Crap! Crap! Crap! I looked up. The entire cart was shaking.
He was going to kill her … and it was our fault. Maybe if we had just gone to Grady with our suspicions. Maybe if—
Mrs. Masterson screamed again, but the sound was cut short. I strained to listen. Was that … coughing? No! She was gagging.
Oh God! He was probably strangling her!
My eyes flashed back down to Grady. He was yelling into his walkie-talkie.
Help would never get here in time.
I took another look up, but I knew I was just delaying. It was pretty clear what I had to do.
I gripped the sidewalls of my cart before getting to my feet. I then turned and stepped up onto my seat, reaching up and pressing my hand against the underside of the canopy roof of my pod for balance as the cart dipped down with my weight. I slid my fingers to the edge of the roof, found a grip, and put one foot onto the top of the wall that formed the seats.
“Erica!” I heard Grady shout. “Tell me that is not your foot I’m seeing!”
I grunted and brought my other foot up—my pod swinging wildly beneath my feet. I gripped the roof tightly and waited for the cart to stop swinging, my eyes darting around.
Some strange part of my brain was thinking it was almost fitting that the last thing I would ever see was the town and lake all aglow with the carnival lights. And hey! I was finally living in the moment … and it was terrifying!
“Erica!” Grady’s voice came again. “Get down!”
“She’s in trouble,” I shouted back. “He’s going to kill her.”
Mrs. Masterson screamed again just then as though to prove my point.
“I’m coming up after you!”
“No! Grady! Don’t touch my cart! I’ll fall!”
“Dammit, Erica!”
I stretched one hand farther across the top of the canopy roof, feeling around for anything I could use to pull myself up. Nothing. Crap! I flashed my eyes around at the other carts. It looked like there was a long metal rod that attached each pod to the wheel … but it ran right down the middle of the roof. I couldn’t reach it. I looked around again. Maybe if I could somehow push myself up a little higher …
I reached my foot out to the scaffolding of the ride. If I planted my foot just right on the metal beam of the wheel and pushed off, I might be able to get enough leverage to heave myself up to the bar running across the roof of my cart.
I slowly side-shuffled along the top of the cart, then lifted my one foot off the ledge.
“Erica!” Grady shouted. “Don’t you even think it!”
I planted my foot against a beam and tested my weight.
“Erica!”
I took a breath. Okay, one … two … three!
I pushed hard against the enormous spoke with my foot—hearing Grady shout—launching myself up and over.
Got it!
I scrambled on to the top of the roof.
Oh, thank God.
I lay flat on my belly for a moment with my eyes closed before I peeked up at the cart above me. The screaming had stopped, but the cart was still shaking.
“I’m coming, Mrs. Masterson!” I yelled, pushing myself up to all fours. “Hang on!”
I brought one foot up … then the other until I was resting in a low squat. Oooh, I did not like that feeling at all. Thankfully, because they were above me, they were farther out on the wheel, which meant if I stood up, right in the middle of my pod, where the balance was the best, I should be able to reach the back lip of theirs.
“Please, Erica! Stop!” Grady called out again, pleading in his voice. “Help is on its way! You don’t have to do this!”
“I have to, Grady. I suspected it was him! And I didn’t tell you!”
I pushed slowly up through the heels of my feet … one hand reaching up for balance …
Once I was standing, I looked over to the cart above me. Sully had Mrs. Masterson by the neck, her back pinned against the seat, the edge of their pod tilting toward me.
“I did everything!” he shouted. “Everything was for you!”
“Hey! Sully!” I shouted.
Mr. Sullivan snapped his face to mine, features twisted in manic rage.
“Let her go!”
Mr. Sullivan looked at me as though he couldn’t believe what I was doing. Me! At least I wasn’t killing someone!
“This ends now,” he said. “I can’t take anymore.” He pushed Mrs. Masterson farther over the edge of the cart. Her arms flew back over the wall to the side.
I reached into my pocket and pulled out the Taser. The Taser that Freddie had insisted I bring … when we’d thought I’d be the one in the cart with Mr. Sullivan …
I flicked it on. The little machine hummed to life.
I could do this. Her hand was right there. I’d give it to her then drop back down. That’s all. I could do this …
“Mrs. Masterson!” I screamed, reaching for her hand. “Taser!”
I felt her fingers close around the small weapon as Sully lunged forward—his hand landing on my shoulder—
“Erica! No!”
—pushing me back into nothingness.