This is my story for last week’s Muse on Monday prompt. You can find the one for this week here.

Ultimate Hide & Seek

The games never changed, just the scope and effort that went into them. Dodgeball in elementary school had evolved in high school into a similar game played on unicycles with baseballs, then in their 20s into something with pickup trucks and beanbag guns played on the salt flats of Utah.

They had only played jump rope a few times before it began to slowly be expanded and upgraded. This culminated in an epic jump rope showdown at the age of 18 using a 100-foot electrified cable powered by the motor from a 1995 Chevy C1500.

Then there was hide-and-seek.

*         *         *

Sam’s paraglider skimmed over the rocky ridge and down into the valley below. Ryan’s signal was getting closer. They both had tracking devices on the other, which meant that while he could see he was getting closer, Ryan could also tell he was approaching. But Sam hoped he would be trapped in this valley and not able to get away.

He looked at the tracker strapped to his wrist. The signal was coming from just below him. As he descended, he saw a small cave in the side of the cliff. That had to be the location. He could not turn in time and soon he was descending in wide circles to the valley floor.

Ten minutes later he was on solid ground. The tracker hadn’t moved. It was like Ryan wasn’t even trying to get away. Sam sensed a trick, but he started climbing the slope, back up to the cave. It was steeper than it looked, but he pressed on.

An hour later, tired and bruised from the loose rocks, he reached the cave. The tracker was still in the same position. Taking out a flashlight, he stepped into the cave. He could tell that someone had been living there for a while.

Then he saw the figure slumped at the back of the cave. Sam spotted Ryan’s lucky hat pulled down over the figure’s face. It never moved.

Oh no, thought Sam. He approached slowly, his heart pounding with dread. He touched the figure on the shoulder, terrified he would feel cold skin under his fingers.

The head fell off. He saw that it was a ball of sticks and grass. The body was made of the same material.

“Ryan, you jerk!” he shouted. That was against the rules. You weren’t supposed to take your tracker off. Without that, he could be anywhere in the world.

In the silence that followed, Sam heard a low snort. It was coming from the back of the cave. He shined the light back and saw a pile of empty bags, shaking with silent laughter.

“Busted,” Sam said. Ryan sat up.

“I almost got you,” Ryan said with a grin.

“You did get me, for a minute,” Sam said. The two friends hugged. “22 days, 12 hours, 5 minutes. Not bad.”

“Still nowhere near my record of 8 days,” Ryan said. “The London Metro? Really? I still can’t believe you thought that was a good spot.”

“Anyway,” Sam said. “Let’s find a way out of Nepal and get home. Give me four months and it’ll be my turn to hide.”