The Luna Trials

Episode 19

"Listen to me," I hissed, my face inches from Leo's. "Pain is temporary. Failure is forever. You want to live? Then you get up and you keep moving. Got it?"

Leo nodded, his face pale but determined. Good. At least the kid had some fight in him.

"Now," I continued, my voice low and urgent, "I'm going to help you up. But after that, you're on your own. This isn't a charity run. Clear?"

Another nod. I gritted my teeth and hauled him to his feet, ignoring the flash of pain across his face. Tough. Pain was part of the game.

As soon as Leo was upright, I turned and started moving again. I'd lost precious time with this little detour, and I could hear the sounds of other contestants gaining ground. Damn it all to hell.

I pushed myself harder, my muscles screaming in protest. The pack seemed to gain ten pounds with every step, but I refused to slow down. I'd come too far, endured too much, to lose now.

The forest began to thin out, revealing the glint of water I'd spotted earlier. A vast lake stretched out before us, its surface deceptively calm. But I knew better. Nothing in this game was ever as simple as it seemed.

As I approached the shore, I saw Fiona already there, adjusting something on her pack. She looked up as I arrived, that insufferable grin still plastered on her face.

"Well, well," she said, her tone infuriatingly chipper despite the obvious exhaustion in her eyes. "Look who decided to join the party. Thought you'd be halfway across by now, what with your 'winning is everything' attitude."

I bristled at her words but bit back a retort. I needed to focus on the task at hand, not waste energy on pointless banter.

The drone's emotionless voice crackled to life, emanating from somewhere unseen. "Contestants, your next challenge awaits. Cross the lake by any means necessary. But be warned - your packs must remain intact and on your person at all times. Failure to comply will result in immediate disqualification."

Great. Because swimming across a lake with a hundred-pound pack wasn't hard enough already.

I scanned the shoreline, looking for anything that might give me an advantage. That's when I spotted it - a small pile of what looked like scrap materials. Bits of wood, some rope, even a few empty plastic containers.

Before I could move, Leo came limping up, his face twisted in a grimace of pain. "Hey," he panted, "thanks for earlier. I don't think I would've-"

"Save it," I cut him off. "I didn't do it for you. I did it because leaving you there would've reflected badly on me. Now, if you're done with the pity party, we've got a lake to cross."

Leo's face fell, but he nodded. "Right. Sorry. I just thought... never mind. What's the plan?"

I raised an eyebrow. "We? There is no we, kid. This is every person for themselves."

But even as I said it, a nagging doubt crept in. The lake was vast, and the packs were heavy. Going it alone would be risky. Not that I'd ever admit that out loud.

Before I could ponder further, Fiona piped up. "Oh, come on, MaryJane. You know as well as I do that we'd stand a better chance working together. At least until we're across."

I turned to snap at her, but the words died in my throat. Because as much as I hated to admit it, she had a point. Damn it.

"Fine," I growled. "But let's get one thing straight. This is a temporary alliance. Once we're across, all bets are off. Got it?"

Fiona's grin widened, if that was even possible. "Crystal clear, captain. Now, what's say we build ourselves a raft?"

And so began one of the most frustrating experiences of my life. Fiona, it turned out, was an eternal optimist. Every setback was just "a learning opportunity." Every failure was "one step closer to success." It took every ounce of self-control I had not to drown her in the lake.

Leo, on the other hand, was a walking disaster. Clumsy and unsure, he seemed to trip over his own feet every other step. But what he lacked in grace, he made up for in enthusiasm. Annoyingly so.

"Hey, guys!" he called out, holding up a piece of driftwood. "I think this could work as a paddle! Or maybe a mast? Oh, or we could use it to-"

"Just bring it here," I snapped, cutting off his rambling. The kid meant well, but his constant chatter was grating on my last nerve.

As we worked, I kept a wary eye on the other contestants. Most were struggling, trying to swim with their packs or cobbling together makeshift rafts. A few had formed groups, much like ours. I made mental notes of who was working with whom. That kind of information could be valuable later.

After what felt like hours but was probably only about forty-five minutes, our raft was complete. It wasn't pretty, but it looked like it might actually float. Maybe.

"All aboard!" Fiona chirped, stepping onto the raft with far more confidence than our rickety creation warranted. "Next stop, the other side!"

I rolled my eyes but followed, helping Leo aboard when he stumbled. As soon as we were all on, I grabbed one of our makeshift paddles and started moving us away from shore.

For the first few minutes, things went surprisingly well. Our raft, while not exactly seaworthy, was at least keeping us above water. Fiona and I paddled while Leo, still nursing his injured ankle, kept watch for any obstacles.

But of course, in this game, periods of calm never lasted long.

We were about a quarter of the way across when I felt it - a subtle shift in the water's movement. I looked up, scanning the lake's surface. There, about fifty yards ahead, the water was churning.

"Heads up," I barked. "We've got trouble."

No sooner had the words left my mouth than the water erupted. A massive tentacle, easily as thick as a tree trunk, rose into the air, water cascading off its slimy surface.

"Holy shi-" Leo's exclamation was cut short as the tentacle crashed down, sending a wave that nearly capsized our raft.

"Paddle!" I yelled, my voice rising above the splash. "Paddle like your lives depend on it!"

Because they did. They absolutely did.

Fiona and I dug our paddles into the water with renewed vigor, while Leo clung to the raft for dear life. The tentacle rose again, this time joined by two more.

"Left!" I shouted as one of the appendages came crashing down just to our right. We veered sharply, nearly losing Leo in the process.

"I don't suppose anyone packed a giant squid repellent?" Fiona quipped, her voice strained but still maintaining that insufferable optimism.

I didn't bother to respond, too focused on keeping us alive and moving. The creature, whatever it was, seemed content to toy with us for now. But I knew that could change in an instant.

We zigzagged across the lake, narrowly avoiding tentacle after tentacle. My arms burned with the effort of paddling, but I didn't dare slow down. Behind us, I could hear the screams of other contestants as they faced their own battles with the lake monster.

"Guys," Leo's voice was high with panic, "I think we might have a problem."

I turned to see what he was pointing at and felt my heart sink. A massive whirlpool was forming directly in our path, the water swirling with terrible speed.

"No kidding," I muttered. "Fiona, we need to go around. If we get caught in that, we're done for."

But Fiona, to my utter disbelief, was shaking her head. "We can't," she said, her voice oddly calm. "Look."

I followed her gaze and saw what she meant. The tentacles had formed a barrier, herding us directly toward the whirlpool. We were trapped.

"So that's it?" Leo cried, his voice cracking. "We're just going to die here?"

I gritted my teeth, my mind racing. There had to be a way out. There was always a way out. I just had to find it.

That's when I noticed it - a pattern in the whirlpool's rotation. It wasn't constant. There were moments, brief but noticeable, where the current slowed.

"Listen up," I said, my voice low and urgent. "We're going to ride the whirlpool."

"We're WHAT?" Leo squeaked.

"You heard me. We can't go around, so we're going through. There's a rhythm to it. When I say 'now,' we all lean left. When I say 'shift,' we lean right. Got it?"

Fiona nodded, her usual grin replaced by a look of grim determination. Leo looked like he might pass out, but he nodded too.

As we approached the edge of the whirlpool, I took a deep breath. This was it. All or nothing.

"Now!" I shouted as we were sucked in. We leaned left, hard, and our raft tilted precariously. For a heart-stopping moment, I thought we might flip. But we held.

"Shift!" We leaned right, narrowly avoiding a collision with a piece of driftwood caught in the current.

Again and again, we leaned left and right, riding the whirlpool's current. My world narrowed to the rhythm of the water and the sound of my own voice calling out commands.

And then, suddenly, we were through. Our raft shot out of the whirlpool like a cork from a bottle, sending us skidding across the lake's surface.

We didn't stop paddling until we'd reached the far shore, half expecting a tentacle to drag us back at any moment. But nothing came. We'd made it.

As we dragged ourselves onto land, our packs waterlogged but intact, I allowed myself a small moment of satisfaction. We'd faced the impossible and come out on top.

But the moment was short-lived. Because as I looked at Fiona and Leo, I realized something that sent a chill down my spine. For the first time since this game began, I'd started thinking of us as a team.

And in this game, teams were dangerous. Teams meant attachment. And attachment? That was a weakness I couldn't afford.

As if reading my thoughts, Fiona spoke up. "So, oh fearless leader, what's our next move?"

I stared at her, then at Leo. They were looking at me expectantly, like they actually trusted me to make the right call. It was unsettling.

"Our next move," I said slowly, choosing my words carefully, "is to remember what this is. A competition. We worked together to cross the lake, and that's done. From here on out, we're on our own. Got it?"

Leo's face fell, but he nodded. Fiona, though, just gave me that knowing smile of hers. "Sure thing, MaryJane. Whatever you say."

I turned away, unable to meet her gaze. Because deep down, in a place I'd rather not acknowledge, I knew the truth.

This game had just gotten a whole lot more complicated.