Chapter 21
On the left wall there is a message written in blood.
Churchill Gardens
Hurry or BOOM!
Beneath that, smaller writing says,
Out main entrance. Turn left. Right of road.
Then, as though an afterthought,
I killed your friend lol
A grinning, scarlet monkey is painted next to the message.
"Greg!" Yells Rob in anguish, "Where have you gone?!"
He kneels beneath the gory message, his question answered by the congealing, sangria pool darkening the carpet.
The hovercraft has taken his body by now, but so much blood has been used to write the message, that he can't be more than a pale husk.
I say regretfully – and rather poetically – "The Massacre Machine is no more."
Rob pounds his fist into the wall. The monkey-face jeers at him.
"It was Minx!" He says, "She wants us to know she did it. She wants us to findher!"
"How do you know?" I ask.
I put a comforting hand on his shoulder, while holding the other over my mouth to stop me barfing over Greg's place of death.
Rob explains, "The monkey matches the one outside. And the directions, like she's playing with us. The little shark!"
"What does she mean, 'hurry, or boom?'" I ponder.
Rob says, dejectedly, "I think it might have something to do with that, man."
He points at the door we just came through.
A wire leads from the handle, into a black, padlocked box.
The box is ticking.
Spray-painted on it is the word, 'midnight'.
"How could she?!" I cry, "I had nothing to do with this!"
"Relax, man. I don't think she was trying to frame you. I reckon it means we have until midnight before, y'know… boom."
Suddenly it all makes sense. The oil poured over the entire room. The stink of petrol. She wants to blow up our supplies!
"And I bet Minx has the key to that padlock…" Rob voices, "That's her way of luring us to her in the park."
"Then should we meet her?" I ask.
He sighs, "It's obviously a trap…"
"Right. Of course. Then should we get to moving our stuff, so it doesn't explode?"
I pick up a sack of bread, dripping with petrol.
It slips out of my grip and a mush of oily dough sloughs out onto the carpet.
"I'll tell you what we're gonna do, man." Says Rob, "We're gonna make that blue-haired carp-face regret ever messing with the Bros' Alliance. We're gonna go to Churchill Gardens and kill her."
"Yeah!" I shout, "For our stuff!"
"For Greg!" Rob hollers.
"Him too." I acknowledge.
Five minutes later, Rob asks, "Did the blood writing say left or right of the road?"
"Err… Shall we try left?"
"Never-mind, there's a sign. Sweet!"
We creep to the entrance to the park, in full, petrol-covered battle gear.
I have my custom sword in one hand, and a backup, long-bladed dagger – that Rob insisted I bring – hidden in my pocket. Rob and I have both donned leather chest-plates provided to us by the cornucopia.
Rob is poised with a long, metal trident. Orange light glints on its prongs as the sun disappears in the west.
"Yoohoo! Boys!"
Minx is standing conspicuously, in the middle of the darkened park.
She wears leather armour just like ours, except it's a full set. She must have stolen it from the cornucopia when she dug up the land-mines.
Speaking of, she tosses a small device up and down in one hand, which I can only assume is a homemade grenade.
"I've been waiting long enough." Minx calls.
"We aren't avenging Greg on your terms." Says Rob.
"You're here before midnight, so I'd say you are."
"Hey! I'm right here with him!" I retort.
"Give us the key to the bomb!" Rob orders.
"Oh, you figured out it was a bomb! What smart boys!" Minx laughs, "Ok, sure. I'll give it to you."
"You will?" I say.
"In exchange for a couple of itty-bitty favours…"
She gives us a lopsided grin, clearly impassive to the time-limit she set for us.
She says, "Firstly, I want complete immunity from you, until the final three. And free access to your supplies – whatever and whenever I want."
"Immunity?" Asks Rob, "You expect us to let such a dangerous tribute roam free that long?"
"And steal all our kills?!" I add.
"I'm flattered that you think I'm dangerous." Minx touches her hand to her heart in mock humbleness, "But the truth is, you two are the strongest in this arena, and I'd feel much better knowing I'm safe from you both. So how's it sound? We can help each other out; favour for favour?"
Minx pouts, giving us puppy-dog eyes.
Rob replies sceptically, "And by favour, you mean you'll give us the key to disarm the bomb you planted."
"Well, yeah." Says Minx.
"Could we have a moment to confer?" Rob asks.
"Be my guest."
Minx smirks and twirls her braids.
"We can't let her get away." Rob whispers.
"I know…" I say, "But how will we save our stuff without having to let her take it afterwards? Not to mention keeping a promise not to kill her."
"Momma Seasley did always teach me to keep my promises…" Rob sighs, "But then again, it's not binding if you don't do the Hogfish Handshake."
"I've never heard of that. You'll have to teach me it when we're out of here."
I'm struck by a thought.
"I bet Minx doesn't know the Hogfish Handshake either!" I whisper urgently, "We can get the key, and then ignore our end of the deal!"
"You're a genius, dude!" Rob cries, "Let's do it!"
Side by side, we make our way to stand about ten yards from Minx.
"You drive a hard bargain, man." Says Rob.
He's such a good actor; I decide not to interfere too much.
"My dude and I have thought about it, and we've decided Greg wouldn't have wanted our stuff to go to get exploded. Though, promising to let you take what you want, and not kill you? That's a lot, man. But, I guess…"
Minx raises her eyebrows, expectantly.
"We accept." I say, "The Bros' Alliance will honour your deal, and uphold it 'til death do us part!"
"Alright, we're not getting married." Minx scoffs.
"That's just how serious we are about our chivalry."
I puff out my chest.
"Cool." Says Minx, "I'll give you the key, but before you come any closer, we gotta ditch our weapons. Truce?"
"Truce." I fling my sword to embed it dramatically in a tree. It bounces off and lands a few yards away from me.
"Alright." Says Rob. He lays his trident beside him on the ground, "You too, though."
"Naturally." Says Minx. She lobs her grenade over her shoulder and a park bench explodes several yards behind her.
"Here you go." Minx holds out a key to us.
Rob and I both approach.
"Wait." Says Minx.
She takes a few steps back, looking unsure.
Somehow, her psychotic smile curves even wider.
"I've changed my mind. I think we'll just kill you both."
Before we can react, a net is thrown over both me and Rob. I try to run at Minx, but I'm caught. Rob and I fall to the ground, entangled and unarmed.
Though the holes in the netting are wide enough to get my arm through, it is weighted by rocks tied to the edges.
Rob and I are trapped together… Entangled between each other's limbs.
I try to slap myself, getting my arm more tangled in the process – now is not the time for fantasising!
While we desperately try to free ourselves, I look around for whoever threw the net over us.
Wandering out from the shadows is Tuna Lovecod.
"Nice one, Tuna!" Minx says, "Now could ya move a bit faster?"
Though Tuna is still staring into space, she throws another mine to Minx.
Minx catches it with ease.
Before she can pull the pin, Rob calls, "Tuna, why?!"
I'm surprised to hear his voice crack.
Minx laughs, "Oh, did I forget to tell you I got backup? Who d'ya think helped me kill Mace?"
Tuna mumbles, "His head was full of wrackspurts… but the blast got rid of them."
Rob begs, "Tuna, my dude! I'm your friend! We've fought Voldarod and the Rod-Beaters together! Even if you go back to Four, Haddock and Herringmione will never forgive you."
Minx folds her arms, choosing to let the conversation continue. Rob and I aren't stupid enough to try to wriggle out anymore.
Tuna says, "If I win the Hunger Games, I can set up a shelter for injured erumpent fish. Minx found these nets to give me a fighting edge, so I want to help with her plans, as a friend."
She has another football net slung over one shoulder, also weighted.
"Erumpant fish don't exist, man!" Rob cries exasperatedly, "That horn your crackpot dad has in his living room is from a narwhal."
"It's that kind of ignorance that diminishes my empathy for you, Rob. I'm sorry, but I can't in good conscience save someone who doesn't support the protection of such majestic creatures."
"You tell 'im, Tuna." Minx says, "I believe in the magical erumpent fish."
"Yes. You are a dear friend, Minx. Go ahead with your plan, so we can disarm the bomb and gather their resources before midnight occurs."
"You heard the girl." Minx says, "Time to die!"
She rips out the pin and hurls her grenade at us.
At the same time, Rob grabs the dagger from my pocket and bats the projectile away, like a pro baseball player.
It explodes in the air, not far enough away.
My exposed skin flares with pain. Rob's hair goes up in flames and he rolls on the ground to extinguish them.
Though stunned, Minx is quick to act.
"Tuna! I need mines!"
Though she tricked us into dropping our weapons, it also means she has no bombs on her.
Tuna rummages in a pack, apparently in no rush.
The football net is melted by the heat, searing a cross-hatch pattern onto my arms where it touches them.
"Quick, dude!" Says Rob.
He yanks me to my feet and we duck out of the net.
Tuna finally throws Minx a grenade. She catches it, just as Rob runs her through with my dagger. Minx's eyes open wide and she goes rigid.
Blood pours from her stomach over her hands as Rob pulls the blade out of her.
The determination in her eyes makes it clear that Rob is going down with her.
With blood-caked hands, Minx grabs tightly onto Rob's arm. She pulls the pin of her grenade with her teeth.
Rob roars, "This is for Greg!"
He plunges the dagger straight into Minx's chest.
She holds onto Rob and the grenade, even as she chokes her last breath. Before the blast of the cannon can echo across the arena, Rob pries the grenade from Minx's limp hand and lobs it as hard as he can.
It explodes in mid-air.
"Go Rob!" I yell.
I turn to see Tuna approaching with a net in one hand, Rob's discarded trident in the other.
For the first time, I feel a modicum of fear towards her.
She handles the trident like it weighs no more than a bamboo-cane. Two motions and she'll have us trapped and impaled, like the shrimps on her earrings.
It only takes one glance at Rob to know we can't fight her. We are both injured and unarmed. I can smell my flesh crisping from all the explosions.
The two of us run to the opposite end of the park, with Tuna blocking the way we came in.
"We're gonna die!" I wail.
"We're escaping, dude!" Rob pants, "Don't give up y-"
Our feet plunge through the ground.
We fall right into a trap – a carpet made of sticks and leaves.
The wind is knocked out of me as I land on my front.
Rob screams.
"My ankle!" He whimpers.
I don't need to ask what's wrong with it. I heard the crack of bone above the sound of splintering saplings.
The hole is a good five feet deep. It stuns us long enough for Tuna to reach us.
She looks down at us, considering momentarily.
Tuna pulls out another grenade from her pack.
She says sombrely, "Minx was a good friend. I enjoyed digging this hole with her – I'm glad our efforts proved useful. In honour of Minx, I will use her weapon of choice. She and I will still kill you together."