Playing Games
Page 7

I sat on the sled first, while Brodie volunteered to drive us out of town.
"How far are we behind the other teams?" Brodie asked immediately.
"Bout a half hour," the man told us. "Some of them had trouble with their dogs."
I tried not to look excited at that. Brodie didn't even try. "Hold on," he called out, getting in the musher's spot on the sled as I clung to the blankets piled onto me. "We're going to try and make up some time." He turned to face the dogs. "MUSH!"
The sled leapt to life and I clung to my seat, praying Brodie wouldn’t get us killed.
 
 
~~ * * * ~~
 
 
We passed two teams on the way to the next location.
One had stopped to look at their map, and the other was struggling with the sled itself. Brodie whooped and hollered at the sight, drawing their attention with his loud cheers. I cringed again at my brother's thoughtlessness. The way he was acting was totally going to bite us in the ass if he wasn't careful.
We switched out drivers at the halfway point, and I clung to the sled as the dogs leapt to action. The other teams were now behind us - following us, Brodie told me - but it didn't matter as long as they were behind. I mushed the hell out of the dogs, leaning in to the sled to give us as much advantage as possible. The cold wind whipped at my face, chapping it underneath the goggles the race had given us, but I didn't care. We were catching up!
In the distance, I spotted a splash of color - The World Races flag. I drove toward it, then began to apply the brakes on my sled, slowing the dogs down. As we approached, I saw an encampment. Ten igloos were set up in a line, and cameramen dotted the area. I saw another flag and mat, and then two areas that had been roped off for challenges.
We were here, and we weren’t in last place. Things were looking up. “This must be where we’re doing the individual challenges,” I shouted into the wind, leaning forward.
"Brake," Brodie called, pumping his arm with excitement. "Brake! I see the flag!"
The sled stopped, and we leapt off, handing control over to our guide. As we struggled to put our backpacks on, we sprinted for the check-in point. Waiting under The World Races flag was an Inuit man dressed in traditional clothing, and he looked a heck of a lot warmer than we were. He held our next World Games disk out for us.
Brodie automatically snatched it and began to read, and I was left to try and peek around my brother’s shoulder once more.
"Two challenges," he read aloud even as I tugged his arm out of my way. "Both are traditional Thule tasks. One team member must show their strength on the water, and the other must demonstrate strength in the belly. Choose your task and good luck."
The Inuit man moved to one side and gestured at the sign he was standing in front of. Two arrows pointed in opposite directions, a crossroads of sorts. One bright green arrow said 'Thule Meal' and the other said 'Thule Craft.'
Brodie peered at the water in the distance. "Thule Craft looks like a kayak of some kind."
I took the disk from him, studying it. "And the other one's clearly a gross food challenge. Which one do you want to do?"
He turned and looked behind us. "I see two more teams on the horizon. Whatever we do, we need to do it sooner rather than later."
"All the others ahead of us must be here," I told him. "So they might still be doing the other challenges. We have a chance to catch up." In the distance, I could see a long wall of snow that had been packed high, preventing anyone from looking around it. A cameraman hovered nearby, obviously filming something.
“We need to decide.” Brodie said impatiently. “Can you eat?”
"I guess so," I told him, steeling myself. "Though if I have to eat fish guts, I'm going to kick your ass when we get home."
He grinned and ruffled my hair. "I'll kayak, then. This thing says to return here once we've completed both tasks and gotten our tokens, so we'll meet back here when we're done. Sound good?"
I nodded, tucking the disk under my arm. "Good luck!"
Brodie dashed off towards the distant shore, his yellow coat bright against the sea of white snow. He followed a marked path and disappeared out of sight a moment later.
Time for me to do my challenge, too. Ugh. I was not looking forward to chowing down on whatever horrors they could come up with. I glanced at the sign, and followed the arrows that said 'Thule Meal.' There was a path dug into the snow, and I raced forward, clutching the disk in hand.
Sure enough, the marked path led behind that thick snow wall I’d seen earlier. I could hear some odd sounds as I approached, my cameraman dogging on my heels as I headed toward the task. When I turned the corner at the wall, the sounds of retching hit my ears just as a horrible, overwhelming fishy smell hit my nose.
Oh…gross.
There was a table marked with a flag, and I headed there. An Inuit woman nodded her head at me and handed me another disk. I flipped it over, reading the instructions. Choose a banquet table. You will be dining on an Inuit delicacy that has been popular for thousands of years, dating back to the days when the Thule lived in Greenland - a dish called mukluk. Mukluk is whale blubber still attached to the skin. Sometimes it is eaten raw, sometimes cooked. You will have a chance to sample both cooked and uncooked versions.
My stomach heaved a little at the thought.
Select your table and begin eating. You must clean both bowls before the judge will hand you your challenge disk. If you need to get sick, a bucket has been provided under your table.
Oh dear. I clutched the disk to my chest, scanning the competition area. Sure enough, ten folding tables had been set up in the snow, covered with a red tablecloth edged with traditional designs. On the center of each table, two bowls had been heaped high with…stuff.
Five of the tables had someone seated in front of them, eating slowly. The sixth table had someone bent over their bucket, clearly puking.
I counted heads. Six people at the challenge. Three teams behind us. That meant…everyone was still here. Holy shit, we'd caught up. It was probably planned that way by the race organizers for additional drama, but I didn't care. We weren’t dead last.
I headed for the closest open table - next to the puker – and sat down at the folding chair there. A napkin had been left on the table and I folded it in my lap. There was a water bottle at my feet, in case I wanted a drink.
I pulled the first bowl close to me and took a look at it.
It was…not good. The mukluk had been carved into chunks, and each chunk was two different colors - dark on top, and white on the bottom. I guessed the white was the fat, since it was shiny and glistened. I swallowed hard. This must have been the raw food, right? I leaned in and sniffed the bowl, while the person next to me got sick again. I glanced over, frowning, just as the puker sat up and leaned back in his chair.
It was Liam, the rocker.
Ha! I tried not to smile at his misery, since I was probably going to be in the same state pretty soon, but it was clear that Liam couldn't hold down his mukluk. Both bowls in front of him were less than halfway gone, and he'd probably gotten there a lot earlier than everyone else. His complexion was tinged an unpleasant green.
He looked over at me, and must have noticed me studying him, because he scowled darkly in my direction.