Paul’s heart skittered. Did he really have ten grand in his possession? His fingers itched to tear open the bag, which seemed like the right weight for a stack of bills. But the bus was nearly full and the woman next to him seemed like the type to snoop, so he waited
He exited a few blocks from his apartment complex and entered a crowded McDonald’s, where he headed straight for the bathroom. In the stall, he yanked out the white sack and ripped open the top. Inside were three stacks of gorgeous green bills. Yes! He’d pulled it off. Nearly dizzy with excitement, Paul shoved the bag to the bottom of his backpack. He would count the cash when he got home. He’d stomached all he could of public bathrooms for one day. He pulled off his wig and mustache and changed back into his wrinkled work clothes, shedding his new alter ego.
Being Paul the frumpy programmer again was simultaneously a relief and a letdown. Still, he left the warm greasy air of the restaurant feeling successful and strode into the wind toward home. On the way, he remembered he still had to arrange to have Janel Roberts fired. A few ideas came to mind, but they all made his stomach churn.
Chapter 8
Mon., May 8, 12:58 p.m.
As Lara entered the arena, the cool air made goose bumps pop up on her arms. She’d changed into a snug-fitting, water-repellent bodysuit that wouldn’t keep her warm unless she was moving. She knew from watching the contest in previous years that the huge indoor space was divided into areas with different configurations and had a hallway around the perimeter. From the front section, all she could see was a portion of the gray twenty-foot walls, constructed of a plastic-metal blend that resembled concrete. The windowless space looked like a giant underground bunker, lit up with metal halide lamps and cameras mounted everywhere.
Kirsten came in behind her and they took their spots on the large red Xs marked on the floor. The first dividing wall, about thirty feet away, had a wide set of metal stairs leading to a platform halfway up. A door in the middle of the wall had no obvious handle she could see. Lara assumed it was electronically operated. Was it controlled by the viewers?
The director hustled into the room, carrying her oversized microphone. Minda Walters wore a black skirt, knee-high boots, and a pastel pullover. Her assistant and co-host, Serena Panjib, was a step behind, followed by two men with shoulder cameras.
Minda stood in front of the contestants and spoke to the audience. “For viewers just tuning in, welcome to the Third Annual Gauntlet, sponsored by AmGo, makers of the Dock and iCom and a host of other technology that connects us to each other. Today we begin the first phase of the competition, the Challenge.”
The director stepped toward Kirsten. “One of our first two contestants in the 2023 Gauntlet is twenty-four-year-old Kirsten Dornberg, a graduate physical education student, competing for the state of Florida. Welcome, Kirsten. What have you been doing to prepare for the competition?”
Kirsten leaned toward the cameras, showing off her cleavage in a low-cut bodysuit. “I’ve been training at a military base, running obstacles courses, and swimming for an hour a day.”
They’d been coached to give short responses at this point, having been interviewed already in the lobby. Lara thought about her own training at the National Guard center in Salem, where they’d enhanced their courses just for her. The state had given her what little support it could afford.
Minda walked toward Lara. “Our second contestant is forty-two-year-old Lara Evans, ex-police officer and paramedic, competing for the state of Oregon. Welcome, Lara.” A wicked smile played on Minda’s lips. “The pundits are betting heavily against you in this first event. How do you plan to overcome the odds?”
Lara had steeled herself for this kind of bullshit. “I hope to be faster, smarter, and more aggressive than my competitor.”
Minda stepped back and spoke to the viewers. “It’s time to cast your first vote. Who do you think will win this round of the Challenge?”
Lara tried not to think about the millions of people watching. Her body hummed with adrenaline, eager to run and sweat and work her muscles. She glanced around the room, looking for something that would open the door. A variety of objects-plastic rings, spiked weapons, and a big red ball-lined the floor, but the ten-foot heavy black pole caught her eye.
Minda made her final pre-start speech. “As the commissioner mentioned, this first phase involves teamwork. To reach the competition area, the contestants must work together to open the door at the top of the stairs. They have only three minutes to do so. If they fail to open the door in time, neither will earn any points for entire Challenge, but the winner will advance anyway.” She looked at Kirsten, then at Lara. “Are you ready?”
They both nodded and Minda walked between them toward the door. “Let the games begin.”
Kirsten charged forward, but Lara yelled, “Wait. We need a key.” It was a guess, but she trusted her instincts. The teamwork probably involved carrying the key up the stairs together, which meant it was something heavy or awkward, like the long pole.
Her competitor turned back. “What key?” Kirsten glanced around, looking skeptical.
“I think it’s the pole.” Lara was already moving toward it. “It’s the only thing that requires two people.”
Kirsten ran to the other end, and Lara was grateful she didn’t argue. They squatted and lifted together, and Lara was surprised by the weight. On the other end, Kirsten grunted with the effort. They started forward, parallel to each other with pole in front, struggling with the awkwardness.
“Up on the right shoulder,” Lara shouted. “Like a construction worker would carry it. I’ll take the lead.” Lara swung her end out front as she called out directions. Kirsten hung back and together they heaved the pole onto their right shoulders, staggering for a moment under its weight. “Let’s go.” Lara charged forward, bearing more of the weight on her shorter body.
As soon as her foot hit the metal stairs, they began to move. Crap! “It’s an escalator,” she called back. “And it’s going in the wrong direction. Don’t run me over.”
But it was too late. Kirsten had charged forward, moving faster on the level floor than Lara was on the stairs. Kirsten’s momentum knocked Lara to her knees, but the pole kept moving forward while her partner came to a stop. Shoulder searing with pain, Lara struggled to stand on the moving stairs. Suddenly, the escalator stopped. The viewers had voted to give them a break, and the behind-the-scene engineers had complied.
Lara heaved to her feet. “Let’s go.” She pounded up the steps, breathing deeply from the pit of her stomach and pulling along her taller, weaker partner. As she hit the landing, Lara swung left, looking for a place to use the pole. Behind her, the escalator started up again and Kirsten nearly lost her footing before taking two giant steps to reach the platform.
“Hooks above the door,” Kirsten called out, breathless.
Lara looked up and spotted the curved metal hooks on both sides of the black seamless door. Christ! They were six feet off the floor. Kirsten moved toward the hook on the right, making Lara lurch forward. They lined up with the hooks, holding the heavy pole in front now at chest level. Lara’s heart pounded from the effort.
“Can you do it?” Kirsten asked.
“Yes.” Lara didn’t know how, but she would. “On the count of three. One, two, three.” She heaved her end of the pole with all her might. It cleared the tip of the hook by a hair and settled into the big curve, a moment behind Kirsten’s end.
A second later, the black door slid open and both women charged for it. Lara edged out Kirsten by half a step and went through first, running toward the next area. She had no time to celebrate her success or catch her breath. Not only did she have to beat Kirsten to advance in the competition, the Challenge was timed. The faster she completed it, the more points she scored.