“Remember, ladies,” Vivian said, standing off to the side, looking fresh as a daisy. “The rules are simple. Keep the plank level, stay on the beam, and don’t let the buckets spill too much water. If you drop or step off, you’re out.”
Allie gritted her teeth and adjusted her grip just slightly, just enough to get a few seconds of relief in her palms before a new ache popped up somewhere else. So many aches in so many places.
“And just a reminder, the pair that wins this challenge won’t just be safe tonight; they’ll earn their place in the final Sending.”Vivian let that sit for a second, though it hardly needed the dramatic pause. The moment Vivian had first announced it, Allie had felt her knees buckle. She’d actually needed to sit down. It was one of the biggest changes inOutlast Herhistory. Instead of the final two pairs battling it out in a hair-raising last challenge, the final three were competing for the position in that final Sending.
“As we all know, this season has been bigger than any before it. Bigger twists and higher stakes. So it only makes sense that the end of the game demands even more,” Vivian said, tucking her hands into the back pockets of her jean shorts. They ended just above her knees and showed off her lovely tanned legs.
Allie grumbled. This challenge demanded all of her strength. Strength that was beginning to wane quickly. Her traps weren’t just screaming; they were on the verge of snapping off the bone. Her calves had started trembling ten minutes ago. Then there was the sun directly above them, beating down on the back of her neck, making her hangover feel a gazillion times worse.
“Did you have any dogs growing up?” Barra asked. It was the first time Barra had said anything since they started the challenge fifteen minutes ago, so Allie hadn’t expected it.
“What?” she asked, not sure if she’d just imagined the question.
“Did you have any dogs growing up?” Barra repeated. Her gaze stayed fixed on the waterline in front of them. Their stations had been set up at the shoreline, which Allie found particularly torturous of the production team. She was fairly certain that the tide was creeping in. Every few minutes the waves edged closer and licked the sand beneath the wooden beams. It wouldn’t be long before seawater crashed against their ankles.
“What are you talking about?” Allie asked, frowning. But frowning hurt just as much as talking, and she didn’t want to do either.
“I’m distracting you,” Barra said. “So what dog did you have growing up?”
“I didn’t have a dog,” Allie answered. A bead of sweat slid down her temple. It itched, and Allie had to resist the overwhelming urge to drop the buckets and scratch it. “I didn’t have any pets. We lived in a townhouse off Park Avenue. Our backyard was really more of a courtyard. There was no grass, just pale limestone tiles, a lemon tree in a giant stone planter, and a row of white hydrangeas that the gardener could easily handle. We didn’t have any outside space for a dog. Or any kind of pet.”
“Not even a goldfish?”
“Nothing.” Allie adjusted her grip on the plank and winced as a bead of sweat rolled down her cheek. Ugh! “And you?”
“We had everything,” Barra replied. “A parrot. Three hamsters. A Jack Russell called Beans and a German Shepherd I named Zeus after spending sixth grade obsessed with Olympus. We adopted two cats when I was a senior: Fig and Queen Elizabeth.”
Allie blinked sweat out of her eyes. She’d always wanted a cat and had even written her parents a two-page proposal—including a deeply manipulative paragraph about how, since they were both surgeons and rarely home, a cat would provide her with much-needed emotional support. Sadly, it had been rejected. If she’d gotten her way, she would’ve adopted a black cat and named her Tabitha. The witchiest-sounding name she could think of. “Why on earth would you name your cat after the late Queen of England?”
Barra smiled despite the strain on her face. Allie’s legs weren’t the only ones shaking. “Because when we got her, sherefused to eat anything other than Tiki Cat tuna and crab pouches. And she only drank water out of the crystal dessert bowl my parents kept for dinner parties. My mom said if she was going to be that high-maintenance, she deserved a royal title.”
Allie laughed, then regretted the laugh because suddenly the weight on her shoulders felt a hundred times heavier. She quickly widened her stance by inching her right foot outward. “You’re going to be the reason I drop these buckets,” she muttered under her breath.
Barra snuck a quick glance her way and winked. “I’ll take the blame any—” But her sentence was cut prematurely by Vivian calling out.
“LOOKS LIKE MARGARET IS HAVING SOME TROUBLE!” she shouted.
Margaret and Valerie’s station was to Allie’s left. She turned her head just enough to spot Margaret’s plank tipping dangerously. One bucket was swinging lower than the other as water sloshed over the rim. Margaret made a strangled sound. Valerie hissed at her. Allie literally held her breath. Then, somehow, annoyingly, Margaret fixed her balance.
“Oh, come on!” Toph yelled from the other side of Allie. “I really needed you to fall, Margaret! My arms feel like they’re slowly being unscrewed from my body.”
Allie let out another laugh, but this one felt like it might split her skull open. She winced and fixed her gaze on the sand, locking onto the crooked shadow of her own body stretched across it. The beam, the buckets, and her arms were held out like some tragic human scarecrow.
“Sorry to disappoint you, Toph,” Margaret called back, breathless.
“I think one of you should be a decent person and simply step off,” Toph said, her face scrunched in pain.
“Not happening,” Valerie said, her eyes so fixed to the ground she wasn’t even blinking. “We’re winning this thing.”
Margaret nodded in agreement, but even Allie, who had just turned her head a fraction toward her, could see a couple of cracks in her façade. It would be a wonder if she held out for another ten minutes. Hell, it would be a damn miracle if Allie didn’t collapse before Vivian announced thirty minutes had passed.
“Honestly, if someone offered to massage my shoulders for at least an hour, I’d consider quitting. Or a coffee and some painkillers. This hangover is killing me,” Tilly muttered.
“Don’t you dare,” Toph said, jerking her head just a little too fast at Tilly. The movement seemed to throw her off balance. One bucket dropped lower with a violent slosh of seawater that spilled straight into the sand. Toph’s foot slipped half off the beam, and for one glorious, terrifying second, it looked like she was going down.
But then... for fuck’s sake, Toph held on. She threw her weight back slightly, with her arms shaking, and somehow hauled herself upright again.
“CLOSE CALL FOR TOPH!” Vivian shouted, clapping her hands. “WE ARE NOW AT TWENTY-THREE MINUTES, LADIES, AND THE TIDE IS COMING IN QUICKLY.”