See Part I here
Petra saw the first hints of sunrise as she returned to the lot where the car was parked. All but dead on her feet after the obstacle course, she needed some sleep. She was still wearing the outfit from the challenge since her clothes were gone, which wasn’t optimal. But, she did still have her bag and tablet. Her plan was to curl up in the back seat of her rental car and take care of her exhaustion. She didn’t really have time but was in no condition to be behind the wheel, even in a self-driving car. Unfortunately, when she got back to the lot, the car was gone. In its place sat a box about one-foot square.
“What the hell?” she said, panicking.
She walked over and knelt. The box had a keypad lock on the top. How the hell am I supposed to open this, she thought. I don’t know the goddamned code. Just then, her tablet chimed. She dug it out and placed her thumb on the screen to unlock it. She thought it was weird that, old as it was, the fingerprint was still the most used form of biometric identification. It made sense as it provided the most bang for the buck. Sure, there were newer, more accurate methods—retinal/iris scans, voice recognition, even DNA scans—but they were more expensive and could be bulkier, and people loved their super-slim, super-light devices. The screen opened and there was a message waiting for her.
Code for secure storage cube: 131666
That was it, nothing about where her car had gone, how she was supposed to get from this desolate shithole in the desert, just a damn code for the box. She wondered what could be in it since she’d brought everything she had with her. Only one way to find out, she thought, entering the code. With the last “6” entered, a small green light blinked three times. She tried the lid and lifted easily. Inside was a Kang Tao energy drink (Caffeine, Sugar. What More Do You Need?) and a Protegenix nutrition bar. There was also a fresh change of clothes. That was nice of them she thought and then immediately wondered what that might cost her. As she was going through the cube, Hazelton’s face popped on her tablet’s screen.
“Greetings, Petra,” he said, brightly. “As you can see, we’ve returned your car to the rental agency. We left you a bite to eat and some fresh clothes. Just leave the things you’re wearing in the box after you change. polled the audience (audience polls were an integral part of Relative Race) and while they loved your performance on the obstacle course, they feel like you’ve had it a little too easy. So, we’ve engineered a situation that should provide more of a challenge. Right now, you’re on the southern end of Utah’s Mineral Mountains, a few miles north of Minersville and about 20 miles west of Beaver. You have multiple options, but if you can make it to the Flying J at Eagle’s Landing by 11:45 AM, you’ll find a ticket for the Salt Lake Express bus to a destination of your choosing. Good luck!”
As the media player closed, she looked for some privacy to change clothes. Nothing. Oh well, she thought, it’s not like there’s anyone around to see. She shed the sports bra and yoga shorts, feeling very self-conscious as stood there naked. It didn’t last long, though. She thought may have set a speed record for getting dressed. After she finished, she looked at the drink and the energy bar, but they weren’t appealing at all. Shoving them into her bag, she looked around for somewhere to sit. She had work to do.
She sat on a nearby rock and pulled up the mapping option. After taking a second to see how it worked, she entered “flying j beaver utah”. According to the directions feature, it was an almost seven-hour walk from her current location. Draining the Kang Tao, she checked the time and saw it was 5:37 AM. Unless she got incredibly lucky, she would miss her window. Shit, she thought. Shit, shit, shit. After a minute or two of self-pity, she stood up, slung her bag over her shoulder, and started walking.
She had just made it to Highway 21 when the tablet chimed. She pulled it out and thumbed the access icon. A message popped up as soon as the screen opened.
As a result of your recent victory, you may access your next clue early. Would you like to see it?
“Well, duh,” she said. Then, “Yes.”
Excellent. Here is your clue:
Between the land of the pioneers and the head of the gnawing rodent, near where the roots are bitter, lie the digs of the old docent and the land is as flat as an old corn fritter.
Who writes this shit, she wondered. She shook her head. Don’t have time for that, she thought. Reflecting on her research at the coffee shop, she remembered that the Big Hole National Valley was in a valley between the Pioneer and Beaverhead Mountains. And, the Beaverheads were part of the Bitterroot Mountains. Okay, she knew where she was going. The problem was making it to the bus in time. Just then, the first vehicle she had seen since leaving hers in the parking lot the previous night crested a rise and was heading her way. She was still trying to decide whether hitchhiking was a good idea when it stopped beside her and the window slid down.
“You gonna stand there, gawking, or get in?” the driver said. “We don’t have all day, you know.”
Petra didn’t realize she was staring until that moment. To be fair, however, the driver was striking. Smooth olive skin and short dark hair falling just above the collar of a black leather jacket, eyes hidden by a pair of glacier glasses whose lenses were so dark they might as well have been mirrors, Petra stood there an extra second, taking it all in. She couldn’t look away until the woman pulled the glasses down, and spoke again.
“Hello,” she said, obviously irritated. “Are you with me?”
Petra shook her head and grabbed the door handle, saying, “Oh yeah. Sorry.” As she settled in, she realized the woman’s hair wasn’t really short. It was put up with tendrils hanging down on either side. The whole effect looked mussed but put together at the same time. It was a look she wished she could pull off but had never quite managed. As soon as the door closed, the woman stomped the accelerator.
“Okay,” the woman said, interrupting her reverie, “You made it through the challenge but you’ve got to be more careful about those strikes. You may not get another chance like that.”
“Wait, you know about that?” Petra asked. “How?”
The woman looked over at her. Petra couldn’t see her eyes but suspected that if she could, they wouldn’t be smiling. “Really?” she said. “How did I know?” Taking in Petra’s blank look, she shook her head and sighed. “It was just a lucky guess,” she said, snark dripping from her words. “I mean, it’s not like ‘Relative Race’ isn’t the most popular show on the net or anything. How did I know.” She mumbled that last bit to herself. She stood on the brakes and snapped the wheel, executing a perfect bootleg turn. Then, she was back on the gas and the car sped back in the other direction. “Look, I’m here to help you and we’ve only got about 20 minutes, so quit wasting time with ridiculous questions.”
“Why only 20 minutes?”
“Because that’s how long it takes to get to the Flying J in Beaver.”
“You know about that, too?” Every word out of this woman’s mouth confused Petra more and more. “Who are you?”
She laughed. “Honey, I know everything.” She adjusted her glasses. “And, my name is Grace Pim.”
“Okay, that answers the ‘who’ but what about the ‘how’?”
“I work for Shade and he doesn’t want his investment to go down the fucking drain.”
“Oh, okay,” Petra replied. Shade was a loan shark. She had gone to him to get the money for the show. This is the first thing that’s made sense from the moment I saw this car flying toward me. Then, the full import of what the woman had said landed. “Wait, if you help me, I’ll be eliminated!” She reached for the door handle. “Stop the car! Let me out!”
“Calm down, girlie,” Grace said. “The show turns a blind eye to a certain amount of. . . assistance. As long as it’s kept on the down-low.”
“Really?” Petra said. “But they told us that any help, like any at all, would get us kicked off.”
“That’s only for civilians,” Pim replied. “You know, family and friends? The rules are different for the game boys. And, Shade is one of the biggest.”
“Game boys?” Petra said, confused again. “Like, gambling?”
“Yeah, like gambling.” Petra couldn’t see it because of the side shields on Pim’s glasses but she was sure there was some side eye to go along with that comment.
“I didn’t realize that was a thing,” Petra said. She immediately felt so gullible. “I mean, I know that people bet on stuff but I didn’t know it was. . . sanctioned, I guess?”
“Oh, yeah,” Grace said. “Not only is it sanctioned, the show takes a healthy cut.” She chuckled. “I guess it’s only fair since they’re the house.”
“And, they don’t care if a bettor helps a contestant?”
“Nope. Like I said earlier, as long as it’s not flagrant.”
“What qualifies as ‘flagrant’?” Petra asked.
“I can’t be seen on camera or heard on audio. Basically,” she added, “I have to be invisible.”
Petra panicked at the mention of “audio”. “Oh, shit,” she said, “The tablet.”
“What about it?” Pim said, nonchalantly.
“They’re always listening and I’m pretty sure they’re using the tablet to do it.” She wrung her hands. “Oh fuck, oh fuck. I am so screwed.”
“Will you relax?” Pim said.
“Relax!?” Petra snapped. “I’ll be eliminated! That means, my daughter’s gonna die! How am I supposed to relax???”
“Will you calm the fuck down,” Pim barked. Once Petra had herself under control again, she said, “We know what we’re doing, okay? Trust me.”
Petra thought for a moment. “Okay,” she said. “I guess I don’t have any other choice, do I?”
An hour later, they were in a booth at the Timberline Restaurant and Petra was wolfing down an 8-ounce ribeye steak, eggs, hash browns, and toast while Grace picked at a California omelet.
“Damn, girl. You’re going at that like you haven’t eaten in a week.”
“It feels like at least that long,” Petra said. “I hadn’t even thought about food until you said we should get some breakfast. I’ve just been so focused on winning this thing, I kind of forgot to eat.”
“Yeah, I can tell,” Pim said. “When’s the last time you had anything?”
Petra thought for a minute. “I think it was three Chai lattes, like right after I left the studio.”
“That’s it? No actual food?”
She remembered the cube. “Well, they left me an energy drink and a nutritional supplement bar back at the challenge site but I forgot I had them.” She reached into her bag and set them on the table.
“Oh fuck,” Grace said, picking up the can. “Kung Tao? These things are vile.” She flipped the protein bar over. “And, calling Protegenix “nutritional” is a goddamn stretch. They’re more sugar than anything else.” She pushed them back across the table. “Hang on to them. They’re not great but they’ll do in a pinch.” She looked at Petra. “How do you forget to eat, though?”
Petra shrugged. “Like I said, I’ve been focused on winning.”
“I guess,” Pim said. “Don’t do that shit again, okay? You gotta keep your body fueled if you want to win this thing.”
“Okay, mom,” Petra said, grinning.
“Shut up,” Pim said, stifling her own smile. “Now, what’s your next move?”
Petra sipped her coffee and said, “Getting a ticket to Dillon, Montana.” She tucked back into the steak. “That’s as close as I can get to the Big Hole area on the bus.”
“You’re sure that’s the spot?”
“As sure as I can be,” Petra said, picking up her toast to sop up the remnants of her breakfast. It was amazing and she didn’t want to leave a single drop on the plate. “The second clue included some geographical info that really narrows it down.” She paused for a second, then said, “But, considering the assholes who run this show, it could be a red herring.” She popped the toast into her mouth, “I don’t like thinking that, but I’ve got to be realistic. You know?”
“Yeah, I get it,” Grace answered. “I mean, I’ve never seen them go quite that far, but better safe than sorry.” She picked up the check. “You finished?” Petra nodded. “Okay, let’s get you on that bus.”
3 hours later, she settled into her seat on what the bus company called a “luxury motor coach”. She struggled to see any bus as a luxurious mode of transportation, but her seat was comfortable, the bathroom was clean, and there weren’t many other riders. That meant she had an entire row to herself, which was nice since she would be on here for almost 12 hours. The bus made several stops along the way, meaning her situation could change, but for now, she was going to take advantage of it. She leaned back against the window, tucked the pillow Grace had bought for her in the Flying J store, and immediately fell asleep.