Free Invaded by Melissa Landers Page A

the
t’alar
across her shoulders like a handgun holster. “You run course, and I watch from above.”
     He pointed to a small platform built into the trees. “To keep time. When you need
     boost, I
     do this.” Then he clapped his hands loud enough to make her jump.
    At first, Cara didn’t understand. But when a jolt of electricity ricocheted down the
     length of her spine, she yelped and nearly wet herself. The
t’alar
was a torture device?
     Holy crap, he really was the devil! “You’re going to make me run faster by
shocking
me?”
    Satan shrugged. “Eh, we try.” Without giving her a chance to reason with him, he pointed
     at the climbing wall. “Now begin,” and he followed with a
clap
.
    Zzzttt!
    Another sharp current shot through Cara, and she lurched toward the wall like a marionette
     that’d had her strings pulled too hard. “Oh my God,” she whimpered as she grabbed
     the
     first hold. “This is so messed up.” But she didn’t stop. After reaching the top, she
     scaled down the other side and set off at a sprint the instant her feet touched solid
     ground.
    The balance stones came next—two dozen round slabs set one stride apart in zigzag
     fashion, each designed to tilt thirty degrees in all directions. She leaped onto the
     first stone with her
     right foot, crouching low to distribute her weight, then immediately jumped to the
     second and third. With each rapid leap to and fro, she made her thighs do all the
     work and kept her arms extended
     for balance. She didn’t hesitate or second-guess herself like before. She cleared
     her mind and let her body take the wheel. Before she knew it, she’d reached the last
     stone and jogged
     around the bend toward the impact bags.
    Zzzttt!
    Correction: she
sprinted
around the bend toward the impact bags, veering left when the first body-shaped target
     came into view. With a savage war cry, she tensed her shoulder and
     collided with the sack. The force of the blow knocked aside her target, and Cara dodged
     to the right before it had a chance to bounce back. This was her favorite part of
     the course. She pictured
     each target as a sneering professor or a haughty clone, knocking the snot out of each
     one until her anger dissolved. When she reached the last bag, she hit it extra hard
     in honor of Satan. He must
     have known, because he zapped her again.
    She squeaked in pain and felt a sudden burst of energy—just enough to propel her into
     a run and carry her through the mile-long endurance track. After that, she breezed
     over the hurdles
     and approached the final obstacle: the cord maze, also known as the tangler. She barely
     had the strength to lift her head, let alone grip the overhead ropes and maneuver
     her way, monkey-bar-style,
     to the other side. She stood with her boots rooted to the ground, staring at the finish
     line in the distance.
    So close, yet so far away…
    Zzzttt!
    Stifling a sob, Cara jumped up and grabbed the thick cord with both hands. She pumped
     her feet to create momentum, then swung forward to grip the next section of rope.
     Though the material was
     coated for maximum traction, she felt her fingers slipping with fatigue. But each
     time she slowed, a jolt of electricity stirred her adrenaline. She forced herself
     onward, drawing on power she
     didn’t know she possessed, until she reached the other side.
    She wasted no time in barreling toward the finish line, head down, muscles burning,
     heart pounding as she drove her legs harder and faster. When she crossed the threshold,
     she heard Satan yell,
     “Sw
eeeee
ney! You make most excellent time—top twenty in whole Aegis!”
    Cara bent at the waist and gripped her knees, fighting for breath. Her stomach heaved,
     and she lost her breakfast in the bushes. But damn if she didn’t feel like a rock
     star.
    Satan climbed down from the tree and removed her
t’alar
harness, then gave her a hearty smack on the back. “Eat plenty
l’ina
,” he said with