Page 102 of The Games Gods Play
We must all reach the same thinking because we grow silent, other than the huffs and puffs of the people dragging the pallet and the tinks of glass on glass made by the bottles of vodka. A vaguely less dark circle ahead of us—the other doline—is getting closer. And I’m suddenly hopeful that we’ll make it out of here.
“My turn,” Amir says a minute later.
Almost like an omen, the second we set the pallet down to take a breath and swap out, darkness consumes the cave.
Night has fallen.
Something off to my right rustles.
“What was that?” Amir whispers.
“Just a small cave toad or a mouse or something,” I say. And I hope I’m right. In the distance, I see a small glow moving ahead of us. Diego?
He shines it around, but the only thing I can see is a single vine of poison ivy draped across a nearby rock.
I didn’t realize there were any parts of it this close to us.
Amir hands Trinica his phone and takes over from me. I’m taking a single step to move ahead of them when something snags at my foot and I lurch sideways. I try to stop myself, but the ground here is all loose rocks, and I tumble end over end away from the others.
Right into a patch of ivy that feels like it closes over me, clinging like spiderwebs.
Fiery pain immediately explodes all over my body.
And, somewhere ahead of us, someone starts screaming.
52
It’s The Catch That Will Kill Us
I fight to be free like a wild thing, but I can’t get out of the vines. It’s like the more I struggle, the more they cling. The pain is blooming all over, even under my clothes.
Vaguely, I’m aware that whoever is screaming ahead of us cuts off. Now only my cries as I struggle fill the cavern.
It feels like forever. Minutes before someone grabs me by the ankles and drags me away using more haste than care, rocks scraping up my back. The vines still grab at me even as we go, and I think I hear Zai swear. But finally we come to a stop. No more vines. I almost don’t care because I’m too busy going fetal. My throat is closing over, my breath coming in painful wheezes.
Not enough air.
I’m not getting enough air down my throat. Like it’s suddenly ten sizes too small.
Panic sets in, and I look frantically around my team, my gaze landing on Zai and holding.
“Oh my gods,” Trinica mumbles. “It’s killing her.”
I sound like I’m barking with every attempted breath, my head starting to swim.
Meike’s beside me in a flash, dumping vodka over me, and the pain eases…but not enough. I was in the vines too long, I think.
I shake my head, turning frantic.
Zai lunges forward, and I see the glint of a cylinder in his hand. He expertly tugs a tab off one end, and my eyes go wide as my mind catches up. His EpiPen. He rams the tapered, orange end against my leg, then holds it in place for what feels like forever.
But then…it’s like the muscles of my throat start to relax, more air making it to my lungs.
I feel a bit dizzy as the effects take hold, but the longer it goes, the more I can breathe. The pain recedes, too. With a hand behind my head, Zai sits me up, his face in mine, warm brown eyes worried.
“Look at that,” Amir says.
I pull my gaze from Zai to look down and gasp. The blisters are shrinking. Slowly, but the pain is going with them.
