“Lass, watch where you’re swinging that ass of yours.”
“Aven, I think she’s dead,” Quinn says.
She shifts in front of me, and I see that the woman has slumped back against her. The freshet has stopped burbling from her neck as well.
“Do we just dump her out of the boat?” she asks, panicked. “I haven’t ridden this in a long time, and I don’t remember where the big drop is.”
“Trying not to think of that part myself,” I say as the boat starts moving again.
And it’s picking up speed.
The nose dips into a rougher section that twists and turns through another scene. It’s more like rapids here than a gentle log flume. We’re bumped and tossed through a forest, where animatronic demons dive from above and screech overhead. Large jets intermittently blast pillars of fire and sweat-inducing heat.
I glance around, looking for any other bodies, but it’s hard to see anything with how fast we’re moving. A small world this ain’t.
“Aven, she’s too heavy,” Quinn says with a grunt. “We’ll have to switch places so you can dump her out.”
“Aye, but let’s wait for a quieter section,” I say.
The boat begins to slow as we turn into another dark stretch, but then I hear the click of the ride’s internal mechanism engaging with a chain lift. A breath later, we’re going up a hill.
“Is this the big hill?” I ask.
Quinn shakes her head and struggles to get away from the dead woman, who’s fully reclined against her at this angle. “There’s a smaller hill, then more rapids. I think. It’s been so long that I can’t remember.”
“Could we use this hill in our favor to hoist her out?”
But we’re out of time. The clicking stops, and down we go. My stomach climbs into my throat, despite the drop being far less frightening than the measly drop tower. Quinn doesn’t even bother raising her hands and enjoying it. She’s too busy trying to get away from the dead body.
The boat eases to a stop again, and we’re greeted by the Grim Reaper once more. This animatronic stands beside a large glowing tree. Lanterns hang from the naked branches, providing an eerie yellow haze to the scene.
“You’re nearing the point of no return,” Jim Reaper says in his booming voice. “Death lies just beyond those gates.”
The boat turns on a track and points us toward a large set of looming metal gates. As they begin to slide open, I tap Quinn’s shoulder. “It’s now or never, lass. Let’s switch places.”
“I don’t know if I can,” she whimpers. “It’s so unsteady. What if I fall out?”
The boat eases forward.
“Turn in your seat. You don’t even have to stand. You go under me, and I’ll go over top of you. That way, you’re always safely in the death machine.”
“Oh fuck, don’t call it that,” she whimpers as she wobbles to turn in her seat.
The boat jerks forward again and practically launches us through the gate and into the next set of rapids. These are much more violent than the first set, and the girl is getting tossed around like a rag doll in front of me. Her tiny hands grip the sides of the boat as she tries to steady herself, and the deadbody, now pressing against her back rather than her front, isn’t helping matters.
“Hold me around the middle, and don’t let go, whatever you do,” I bellow.
Quinn’s arms stretch as far as they can around my waist, and I lean forward to try to work the body free. Swapping places is all but impossible, so we’ll have to make do in this awkward position.
We drop down another small hill and barrel through another set of rapids in a blacklight forest. A massive demon head pops from a tree trunk and sprays mist from its nose with a deafening sound. Quinn screams and buries her face in my lap. This would be more welcome under different circumstances.
Fake lightning flashes overhead, and I spot a pink-clad body draped over the iron fencing lining an upcoming section. The man’s head has nearly been sawn off.
“Bennett has definitely been here,” I say as I try my best to hoist the tiny dead woman from our boat. It would be a lot easier without the terrified lass screaming bloody murder against my ball bag, but no matter.
With a final grunt, I manage to get the woman out of the boat. She lands in the water, and I worry her body will fuck up the ride mechanisms, but Jim has already thought ahead. A staff member rushes from some unseen hiding place as we pass by, and he fishes her out of the water.
“Think you can turn the right way round again?” I ask Quinn. “I’m not sure how safe it is to?—”