After a few minutes, the sea of legs cleared and I noticed only two people still sat, waiting for the congested crowd to disperse. Me, and Liam. I ignored him, getting to my feet and shrugging back on my heavy backpack.
Brodie returned to my side in a cheery mood. "Isn't this awesome? We're on our way to our first destination!"
"It's pretty exciting." I studied my brother as we got to the back of the line. Tesla had moved to Liam's side and was nudging him with one of her metal-covered boots. "You didn't make an alliance with them, did you?"
"Tesla and I talked about it," Brodie told me. "They're in second place, so it'd be smart."
"Brodie Short," I hissed at him. "Did you or did you not see that guitar-playing asshole knock me to the ground and steal second place from me?"
"I’m sure it was a mistake," Brodie said easily. My brother had zero killer instinct. "And Tesla told me that Liam was pretty remorseful about it."
"So remorseful he didn't even bother to come over and apologize? Oh, I'm sure he's just dripping with regret," I snapped back to him.
"He can hear you," Brodie told me in a low voice.
I glanced over and saw both Tesla and Liam staring in my direction. Tesla seemed to be amused, but Liam was impossible to read. For some reason, that just made me more irritated. "I know they're listening," I said, in an even louder voice. "And in case they didn't catch it all, I said, the guitar-playing asshole knocked me to the ground and stole second place."
I was so loud everyone turned and stared. The look Liam shot my way could have withered foliage. And cameras swung in my direction.
Brodie shushed me again.
I elbowed him. "Why are you taking their side? I'm your partner!"
"You're my sister," Brodie said, and reached out to rub a noogie in my blonde pigtails.
I yelped and backed away from him.
"You're also holding up the line," Tesla called from the back.
I danced away from Brodie's grasp and we pushed forward with our passports and tickets.
The plane was a big one, though because of the rules of the game, we couldn't fly anything but coach. Since we had last-minute bookings, we ended up with whatever seats were available – which meant the ones that no one else wanted. Single seats spread all over the plane, and middle seats.
Brodie and I were split apart. Brodie was somewhere in the back, and I was a middle seat towards the middle of the plane. I stuffed my enormous backpack into one of the overhead compartments and sat in my seat, twitching nervously at the sight of the two empty seats next to me. Maybe neither one would be filled and I could relax on the flight. It was going to be a long one - over ten hours in the air.
An elderly man came and sat in the aisle seat, squashing my hopes of having my small row to myself. I closed my eyes and rested my head on the headrest of my seat while waiting for the plane to take off as people milled around us, pushing bags into overhead bins and getting comfortable.
Just as I started to get comfortable, the man to my left got up to let someone else in. I blinked awake, and looked up in horror at Liam's unsmiling face.
He pointed at the empty window seat next to me. "That's the guitar-playing asshole's seat."
I ground my teeth and said nothing. Instead, I simply got out of the row and gestured for him to enter. He did, and I could immediately tell that it was going to be an issue. For one, Liam was tall. His arms and legs barely fit into the small, squeezed seat, and he practically oozed into my middle seat. Nostrils flaring with irritation, I ignored it. He didn't want to sit next to me, either, after all.
I sat back down in my seat with a thump and buckled in.
Next to me, Liam stretched, and his elbow practically jostled me in the side. To my left, the elderly man slid his shoes off, then proceeded to unbutton his pants. After they were undone, he gave a sigh of pleasure and leaned back, as if to go to sleep.
And the damn plane hadn't even taken off yet.
It was going to be a long, long flight.
~~ * * * ~~
Once we landed in Keflavik Airport, the airport was a mess of running, shoving people. Brightly-colored shirts paired up as soon as they got off the plane and ran through the terminal, heading for the charter flight that would take us to Greenland. Brodie and I had to wait as the Rednecks and the Rockers got on the first flight out, thanks to their footballs.
We were stuck in the back of the pack with Myrna and Fred, the elderly couple who’d had the misfortune to get the other high number. They were nice enough, but conversation was kind of awkward, and Brodie wasn't his normal super-chatty self. I knew why - he didn't see them as someone worth allying with. He didn't think they were strong. And I wasn't the social one on our team, so it was a long wait.
Eventually, our chartered flight arrived, and we took the tiny airplane to Kulusuk in Greenland. As soon as we landed, Brodie shoved my backpack in my hands and we dashed down the stairs, pushing ahead of Myrna and Fred. I tried not to feel bad - it was a race, after all. We'd gotten our coats out while the flight was going, and had zipped up in anticipation of the cold weather.
The airport was ridiculously small, the tarmac covered with snow. The terminal itself seemed about the size of a one-room gymnasium. Directly behind it, steep mountains rose. From the other side, the icy water of the bay rippled.
Standing in front of the terminal was a man in an enormous fur-lined parka, holding a flag emblazoned with The World Races logo and standing on a World Games mat. Camera crews swarmed the area, filming as we tromped down the steps of the airplane and crossed the snowy tarmac. It was bitterly cold, the wintry breeze biting through the layers of clothing that I wore.
"Come on, Katy," Brodie encouraged, racing ahead of me despite the snow and ice on the tarmac. I followed at a slower pace, holding onto my enormous backpack. I wasn’t as big as Brodie, and it was a hefty load for someone of my stature to carry. Not that my brother noticed - he dashed to the race station ahead of me and then shot me impatient looks until I caught up.
As soon as I stepped onto the mat, the man in the coat held out a disk. "Welcome to Kulusuk," he said, his accent thick. He smiled, his weathered face friendly, and I smiled back.
Brodie snatched the disk from him and raced to the side so he could study it, turning away.
I gave the man an embarrassed look, thanked him, and then followed Brodie. We'd have to have a talk about manners after this leg was done. There was playing a game, and then there was just flat-out rude.
Brodie was reading the writing on the back of the disk without me. I peered over his shoulder, but couldn’t see anything, so I poked my brother in the side. “Hello, partner over here?”
He glanced at me, then finished reading the disk and handed it to me reluctantly. The front was the logo of The World Races, a bright grid in the shape of a globe and the name of the show. I flipped it over and read it aloud. "Go to the sled rentals in Kulusuk—“
Brodie jogged in place, clearly ready to get going. “Are you done? Come on. You can read it on the way there.”
I ignored him and kept reading. “—You'll receive a map and a dog team. From there, drive your dog sled out to the marked location on the map. Individual challenges will follow.” I squinted up at the snow-covered mountains nearby. “A dog sled, huh? Should be interesting."
"Should be fun," Brodie said, with a huge grin on his face. "Come on!"
We didn't see a taxi waiting for us, so we hiked into town. It wasn't far from the airport, though the ground was rocky and covered with snow. The village spread out before us like something from a movie, and I was fascinated. This was really damn cool.
"Come on, Katy," Brodie yelled back at me, trotting a good distance ahead. "This is a race!"
I gritted my teeth. Okay. Brodie kind of sucked as a partner. He acted like I was a liability instead of his sister. I knew my brother was competitive, but this was getting annoying. "I'm coming," I yelled back at him.
When we found the dog sled place,
we didn't see any other teams. Oh no. That was a bad sign. There were only two sleds left, which meant Myrna and Fred were the only ones behind us. I tried not to worry as an attendant led us to our dogsled and began to explain how to sit on it and how to drive, and how to control the dogs. He'd be riding with us, he explained, but both Brodie and I would have to drive the sled for a distance.
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.
So I grinned. And popped the first piece of mukluk into my mouth just to fuck with him.
Immediately, I regretted that choice. Mukluk was awful. The taste was something like super fatty, slimy sushi, and it had a texture like gristle. It was cold on my tongue, and it smelled worse than anything. I shivered and forced myself to swallow the piece, then reached for a piece of the cooked mukluk. It wasn't nearly as ba
d, though still pretty foul.
I alternated pieces, gagging between each one. Every few minutes, to my side, Liam would make a quiet heaving noise and then proceed to grab his bucket, which only made my stomach turn a bit more. I began to hum to myself to drown him out, grabbing pieces of mukluk and eating as fast as I could.
There was a lot of damn mukluk in the bowl. Soon, my entire mouth tasted like fish, and all I could smell was the scent of slightly-turned mukluk. I held my nose for a few pieces, and then decided to just suck it up and cram a piece of cooked mukluk in with the raw and chew fast. The taste was still awful, but it helped masked the slimy gristle-texture, and so I kept pairing and swigging with water.
It wasn't a fast process. Even as I ate, I saw one of the girls on the end get up, stagger toward the judge, and was handed her token. Abby. She’d finished the challenge first.
She headed off into the snow, likely to meet up with her partner Dean. That was okay, I told myself. Everyone else was still here. I crammed more mukluk into my mouth, eating as fast as I could. It was pretty awful, but I'd had worse at culinary school when we had to taste our own experimental dishes. I could hear someone else get sick nearby, and it made my stomach roil uncomfortably, but I ignored it and kept eating. I crammed my mouth full of mukluk and glanced down the tables at my competition.
Liam had his head down on his table, clearly trying to compose himself. He hadn't eaten another bite in several minutes. Others picked at their food, gagging at the taste or the texture. I continued to sandwich mine between the less slimy pieces and drank lots of water, glancing at the people that had just sat down. I was doing all right.
I grabbed the last piece at the bottom of my bowl and choked it down, ignoring the fish smell and the way it felt in my mouth. Almost done. I stared up at the clear blue sky overhead as I chewed, willing myself not to barf and ruin this. Gristle and fat squished between my teeth as I chewed.