“Well that was an interesting ride,” Caileigh said shaking her head as she stepped out of the car.
Before them, the island loomed like a silhouette against the evening sky. It had taken them several hours just to plan this trip and locate the island on a map. Damien, the Kharg’s personal butler had driven the two of them to the island only drop them off at the walking bridge leading to the front entrance.
Lance blinked several times as he took in the massive attraction. His tongue flicked across the parched parcels of flesh. He could feel the small cracks on his lips as his tongue grazed across the surface. Caileigh stepped up beside Lance and eyed the walking bridge with a wary expression.
“Well, it’s now or never, Lancelot,” she sighed and reached for his hand.
He said nothing in response but he squeezed at her hand and started forward to cross the waking bridge. The smell of the island was so volatile. A smell only describable as the mix of salt water, fish, and greasy vendor foods wafted to their noses and wreaked havoc to their senses. Caileigh’s nose wrinkled in abject horror as she tried to breathe through her mouth. The cacophony of sounds and the crashing waves of the surf pounded against her ears as she walked closer and closer to the front entrance of the island attraction.
“Wow, I never thought we’d get over that bridge,” Lance muttered.
“Yeah, it was a long walk, wasn’t it?”
She saw him nod from the corners of my eyes as the two of them walked up to the ticket booth. Slowly, Caileigh withdrew her hello kitty wallet from her purse, dug out the money for park admission, and handed it over.
“Two adults,” she said with a faint smile to the man behind the booth.
The man looked out from the glaring clown make-up that literally made his face appear unwelcoming and angry and shoved the money into a tin box.
“Wrists,” he ordered as he reached for the wrist bands and extended them forward to clasp them together around Lance and Caileigh’s wrist.
The two college students quickly obliged the man and extended an arm as the thick paper band was placed around their wrists. The man motioned them through the door watching them like a hawk as he leaned back against his chair in boredom. Caileigh grabbed for Lance’s hand once more and began to drag him through the open gates. She tried to widen the gap between them and the cranky ticket booth vendor.
“Not a talkative one, was he?” Her eyes flickered in the orange glow of the evening sun.
“He was kind of creepy to be honest.”
Caileigh nodded her head in response and walked toward the bottom of a steep set of stairs leading a winding trail up the small mountainside. She blinked several times and looked over at Lance.
“The owners must have a lot of money for this kind of thing,” she commented as she motioned toward the staircase leading up to the eerie castle like structure at the top.
“Yeah, maybe,” Lance replied with a slow shrug.
The two walked silently up the steep slope. Now and then water sprayed out at them from somewhere on the path. Sound effects roared loudly making Caileigh jump in surprise every so often leaving Lance in an uproar of belly aching laughter when she clutched pitifully against him.
“It’s alright, Caileigh, it’s not real. All fake, remember?”
Caileigh nodded her head and swallowed the lump that had developed in her throat making it almost impossible to speak without croaking out like a frog.
“Right, all special effects,” she said weakly. Inside she was faltering, too prideful to admit that she might be just a little afraid. She said nothing, though, and continued walking toward the bottom of the stairs leading up.
“Should we go up to the haunted mansion of death first?” Lance’s words echoed behind her.
“Yeah. Sure. I guess.”
Lance couldn’t help but let out a laugh, though he too felt a little nervous at the precarious ascent they had before them. Too many stairs leading up the side of a mountain wasn’t how he imagined he’d be getting to the haunted house. He just knew that he would regret this the following morning when he couldn’t stand after this workout. Great. I’ll be hurting tomorrow. His inner monologue sneered quietly at him as he followed after Caileigh and the two strode forward to the bottom step to head up.
ns 15.158.61.20da2
