Total pages in book: 162
Estimated words: 158848 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 794(@200wpm)___ 635(@250wpm)___ 529(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 158848 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 794(@200wpm)___ 635(@250wpm)___ 529(@300wpm)
“I’m glad it’s just the four of us.” Kyla wraps her arm around my waist.
I lean my head on her shoulder. “Me too.”
“Don’t let me forget to bring a bag of cotton candy home for Jenn,” Hayden reminds us for the fifteenth time.
“We won’t,” Darcy groans. “Why don’t you just get it now?”
“Nah,” I say. “It’ll be all melty and gross by the time we leave.”
Hayden sucks the rest of her drink down in one long, noisy rush. “All right. Let’s check this place out.”
The carnival is larger than I expected. The Millers let whoever runs the thing use a lot of their acreage. Or maybe it seems huge because it’s dark and overwhelming.
We find our way into a circular area of booths housing dozens of typical carnival games. Except, these aren’t typical. Each one is horror themed. And the prizes range from decks of Tarot cards to cute and creepy-looking stuffed animals.
“Ewww,” Kyla squeals. “Zombie Brain Toss looks revolting.”
“I think that’s the point.” I stop and watch some of the players use a mallet to launch little jiggly “brains” into the open skulls of giant Zombie mannequins. “It looks hard too. There’s no good way to aim that thing.”
“These games are always rigged,” Kyla says.
“Yeah, but we’ve seen people walking around with stuffed animals and goldfish all night.” I nod to a group of younger teenagers carrying a huge stuffed unicorn skeleton.
“I guess,” she sighs.
We pass Frankenstein Operation where you have to put organs back into a giant Frankenstein strapped to a bed. Graveyard ring toss, zombie shooting alley, and finally one that looks like something I might be able to actually do.
Skeleton Ball. The prizes are all stuffed and squishy animals with creepy eyes and little colorful stitches.
“Oh!” Kyla points to a row of black plush bats and kittens. “Look at the bat. He’s so cute.”
The operator of this game is probably a few years older than us. He’s tall and almost thin enough to pose with the row of animated skeletons behind him. His jet-black hair sticks up in shiny spikes. As he approaches us, he bites on a small silver ring through his bottom lip.
“Greetings, ladies.” He holds out a ball shaped like a skull. “Would you like to sink the bone in the hole?”
Ewww.
Behind him, I spot a lone black, cartoonish-looking, stuffed rabbit with long black ears and a red X for one eye. The perfect mix of macabre and adorable. I point at it. “What do I have to do to win the bunny?”
Skeleton-man walks backward and snatches the bunny from its hook. “You’ve got thirty seconds to sink one ball in each basket.” He points to one of three fifteen-foot-tall animated skeletons holding a wide basket in each hand.
I glance at Kyla. “That sounds easy enough.”
“It’s like double basketball with a countdown clock.” She shrugs. “Right?”
The operator grins. “More or less.”
I can’t tell if he’s naturally creepy or if it’s an act for his job. But dammit, I want that bunny.
“Five chances for five dollars.” He holds out his hand.
I pull a five from my purse and set it on the counter.
“You’ve got this, Molly,” Kyla says. “You always crushed it in gym when we played basketball.”
“That’s being generous.”
“Positive vibes, Molly.” She waves her hands over and in front of me like they’re two sage sticks.
The operator lines the skull-shaped balls on the counter in a neat row. I pick one up, testing its weight. It’s almost squishy but kind of hard in the middle.
Now that I’m actually trying to launch a ball into the basket, the opening looks so much smaller. I aim for the basket on the left and throw. It hits the skeleton’s hand, then bounces away.
“Har, har, har, is your batting average legally drunk?” the animated skeleton barks while its lower jaw hinges up and down with more mechanical laughter.
“What the—!?” Kyla presses her hands over her mouth and laughs. “It heckles you too?”
“Twenty seconds,” the operator reminds me.
Oh crap. I forgot about the time limit. I pick up the next ball and quickly throw it at the right basket. It bounces wildly off the rim.
Shoot.
Ignoring the inane insults from the mechanical skeleton, I aim for the left basket again. It hits the rim of the basket, rolls in, then bounces out.
“What the heck was that?” Kyla yells. “That counts, right?”
“Nope. Gotta stay in the basket,” the operator says.
I throw my last two balls at the left basket and miss both times.
Well, that humbled me fast.
The operator holds five more balls in his hands. “Wanna go again?”
“Sure.” I slap another five on the counter.
The third ball actually lands in the left basket and stays there.
“Ah-ha!” I punch my fist in the air. “Right basket, you’re mine now.”
I line up my shot so carefully, trying to remember exactly how I got the one to stay in the left basket. I throw the ball with a perfect arc. It hits the rim, rolls around it, then bounces out onto the floor.