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I peek out from the side fully expecting to be caught. It didn’t take him long to hunt me down last time, and it’s no secret I am at a massive disadvantage.
Jackson knows this place like the back of his hand. Knows every nook and every cranny.
The only way I have a shot at beating him is to outsmart him, and that won’t be easy.
Think, Blair. Fucking think!
Returning to the fun house would be too obvious, and heading toward the trailers would be too risky. There is no way I could avoid being caught by one of the carnies.
I need to find somewhere unexpected, somewhere he would never think to look for me.
I run over the layout of the carnival in my mind, trying to think of everything I saw from the moment I arrived to the moment I met Jackson.
I leave the safety of the metal bears and slink into the shadows, keeping close to each of the attractions as I map out potential hiding places.
Something cold and wet jars me from my thoughts and I look down.
The remnants of what I can only hope are spilled soda lay in a puddle at my feet.
My fucking shoes! I left my fucking shoes at the stable.
I scan my surroundings and my eyes narrow in on what seems to be my best bet at losing Jackson.
The game has turned me into someone I don’t recognize.
I sprint toward the giant metal fixture that sits at the center of the grounds, gaze locked on the frame. That could easily be climbed.
Well, it may have been easier without the whole wet and bare feet issue.
When I reach the Ferris wheel I immediately start my ascent.
I get a few rungs off the ground when my foot slips against the cool metal rod, but my grip on the ones above my head save me.
I keep climbing until I am far enough up that I can see most of the attractions below me, even the dimly lit stable off in the distance.
I steady myself against the frame, sliding my feet to the left a few inches at a time.
Don’t look down, don’t look down.
A loud bang coming from somewhere behind me makes me freeze in place. I can’t breathe and I can’t think.
You can do this.
I begin sliding my feet across the metal rod again, getting closer and closer to one of the large covered baskets.
It’s bright purple and covered in glitter, the moonlight making it glisten as it reflects off the paint.
I reach out, grabbing for the railing. My hand connects, and I wrap my fingers around it. I pull my weight over the rail and collapse into the basket, hip slamming into the hard bottom.
I lay there curled in a ball, terrified that the slightest movement will make the basket begin to sway again.
If he sees it, I’ll be caught.
I squeeze my eyes shut and listen for any noise coming from below me, but all I hear is silence.
Terrifying silence.
I have no clue how much time has passed, but the laughter coming from the area where the trailers are parked has subsided. There hasn’t been a single noise, other than the sounds of my own breathing.
