Total pages in book: 72
Estimated words: 66334 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 332(@200wpm)___ 265(@250wpm)___ 221(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 66334 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 332(@200wpm)___ 265(@250wpm)___ 221(@300wpm)
So that’s who he’d gone after. She looked more familiar than the old man had. Her name danced on the edge of my memory, but I couldn't quite place it yet. The fact all of us, and some of these people that we kept crossing paths with had a link to one another had to be the Boards doing. There was a noticeable discord between her and Charon. He’d effectively blocked her into the seat like his brother had done to me.
Whatever she was saying, a thick accent was present, and happy was the exact opposite of the vibe I was getting. I quickly diverted my gaze, not wanting to stare.
In addition to her, there were a few others I didn't recognize. A woman with short, silver hair and a hardened expression, reminiscent of someone who had survived countless battles. The man Lana and I helped, was now sporting a nasty knot and bruise on his head. His eyes were closed, and I worried he might’ve gotten a concussion. Two other women looked to be about my age—one with rich, dark skin and the other with delicate features and straight black hair, hinting at an Asian descent, perhaps Korean.
Lastly, an athletic-looking man with long brown hair stood near the back, his eyes scanning the tram warily. No, not the tram, his eyes were shifting around our group with clear distrust.
I couldn’t fault him for it. We were sitting with the same kinds of masked madmen that were all over the Devil’s Playground, the difference being these ones didn’t care about him or his existence enough to snuff it out.
There was an audible click, and then the tram was moving forward. My hand found Ky’s arm and tightened reflexively. We swiftly moved away from the danger here, and without a doubt were heading right into more. The show was back on now and there was no telling what else we’d have to endure. The overhead lights dimmed, and the radio clicked on, an upbeat tune beginning to play.
“Cambodia”, Dion commented almost wistfully. "My pops’ loves this song."
I started to smile at him, when an almost inaudible grunt and Ky shifting, stopped me. I gave him a reprimanding look, then smiled at my friend.
"Maybe it’s his way of telling you he’s here with you."
“That is grossly sentimental,” Ciaran remarked amusedly.
“Don’t be a dick,” Lana chastised, then in a softer tone to Dion. “They’ve already confirmed he’s watching and doing what he can.”
“I know he is,” Dion said, looking out the window.
I watched him, my mind drifting. I remembered Dion a little easier than anything else. He was carefree and lighthearted. That spark was gone now, replaced by a somber heaviness he tried not to show. I hated seeing that. Not just for him, but for all of us. How would we go back to the world beyond this nightmarish playground after all was said and done? It wasn’t just about surviving the immediate danger; it was about finding a way to reclaim the fragments of us that this place had taken.
And at what cost?
How did the guys manage it? Their level of compartmentalization was on the next level and terrifying to me, but I realized I’d been doing it too, hadn’t I? Taking all this bullshit and rolling with the punches day after day.
As the tram glided smoothly along its track, I turned my head and looked out the window. Ky was silent and still beside me, his masked gaze fixed straight ahead. We entered the woods and that became my only view until we proceeded through a brick tunnel. Unlike the last time, this one had lights, and we weren’t riding an out-of-control bus.
“So what side are you lot on?” the athletic man suddenly asked.
“Ours,” Charon replied before anyone else could.
“And what’s that supposed to mean?”
The woman with short, silver hair and a hardened expression spoke up, her voice firm and unwavering. “Survival,” she stated. “They’re on the side of survival. In other words, winning.”
Ciaran leaned forward so he could see around Lana. “Look how quick she understood without needing to ask questions.” He tilted his head, and I could tell he was looking at the woman who’d spoken. “Carol Blackwood, right?”
Her expression changed subtly, not surprised but solemn. “That’s right.”
Blackwood? How did I know that name?
“Blackwood?” Lana used her arm to push Ciaran back. “Are you related to Thomas Blackwood?”
“As in Blackwood Architecture?” Mel chimed in.
There it was.
They were both right.
Blackwood Architecture had been contracted by our parents and countless others for various construction designs, everything from office buildings to houses. At least, that’s how we’d always understood it. Now, I wasn’t so sure.
Carol’s mouth drew tight. “Thomas is my brother.”
“And your brother pissed off the big guys on top,” Maverick stated matter-of-factly.
Carol nodded her head once. “That’s right. He didn’t fall in line with their demands for Project Paradise after he found out what they planned to do with the Spencer Estate.”