Page 51 of Half Truths (Secret Society 1)
Three of the five in front of Nolan walked in another direction, not bothering to turn around to say goodbye. Nolan glanced at me over his shoulder.
“You’ll meet everyone when the time comes. For now, onto the first challenge. It’ll be easy.”
He led me through an archway between buildings that led to a park I hadn’t seen, not that I’d ventured out much. There were two more people dressed in black. Logan. My pulse spiked when our eyes met. I wanted to punch him for telling me to stay away from the cloaks and not admitting he knew what the calling card was when he saw it that night. For all I knew, he was the one putting them on my doorstep. I glared.
They led me to a spot in the grass that had cones all around it and a big bright light—like the ones you see in outdoor arenas—shining over it. I almost laughed. Were they going to make me do drills? I wasn’t sure I could do any drills right now.
“If you look closely, you’ll see that the grass is covered with blades,” a guy I didn’t know or recognize said.
He waved me to walk forward. I moved forward and saw some sort of iron square laid out with what looked like pieces of shards glittering through, each of them placed like stakes coming out of the ground. They were placed on the iron in a way that made it impossible to do a drill around them, not a fast one anyway. You would have to meticulously step in order not to drive one of them into your foot.
“What is it that you’re asking me to do?” I looked between Nolan, the guy, and Logan.
“It’s a trust drill. We expect you to go from point A to point B by following your guide’s instructions,” Nolan explained.
I balked. “Without looking down?”
“Yep.”
“Yeah, right.” I started to laugh nervously, but stopped when I realized they were serious. “Is that even physically possible? At one point I’ll look down. It’s human nature.”
“You won’t be able to look down,” Nolan said. “You won’t be able to see anything at all.”
“What?” My jaw dropped. “You’re going to blindfold me?”
Nolan nodded once.
“How am I . . . who’s going to . . . I don’t think I can . . . “
“I’ll lead you to the other side,” Logan said, his voice ringing clear in the silence.
“You expect me to believe that you’re going to get me to the other side unscathed? While I’m blindfolded?”
“I do.”
“And why would I believe that?”
“Because I’m telling you I will.”
“What if I asked you to take my place in this drill? Would you trust me to lead you while you’re blindfolded?”
“Yes.” He didn’t hesitate, but he had to be bluffing.
“Have you done this?” I asked, and he nodded. A part of me—a really stupid part of me—didn’t want to ask who he trusted enough to lead him to the other side, but I had to ask anyway. “Who got you through your drill?”
“Your brother.”
I took a step back. I had not been expecting that.
“Are you doing it or not?” That came from one of the other guys.
They all looked so damn sure that I’d hightail out of there. It was probably the only reason I stepped forward with a nod. I was doing it. I looked at Logan. He didn’t look any more impressed by my confirmation than anyone else did. He looked bored. As he walked over to me with the blindfold in his hand, his expression was all business. He put it over my head and placed it on my forehead, his eyes on mine.
“You’re going to get the urge to reach up and snatch it off. Don’t.”
“I don’t know if I can do this.”
“You can. I’ll be on the other side guiding you.”
I looked behind him, at the trap on the ground that looked like a serial killer’s idea of a good time. When my gaze met his again, I saw concern in his. I thought he was going to talk me off the ledge, or reassure me that I would be great at this. Instead, he tapped my head and started walking away.
“She’s ready.”
I opened my mouth to say I wasn’t, but closed it again. They explained the object of the game again: get to the other side with my partner’s help. Rely solely on him, without giving in to the urge to yank the blindfold off. The area was quite small and without the blades, I could get there in four or five steps. With the blades there, it wasn’t simple at all. Without relying on my own sight, it seemed impossible.
“We’re going to do this in counts. Like this—” He picked up his right leg and moved it slightly without setting it down. “This is one count.” He moved the same leg a little further out. “This is two counts. We’ll do it like that—one count, two counts, two counts, one count,” he said as he demonstrated. “You understand?”
