HEAT WAVE!

Freidman was not known for being the fastest man in his school, in his neighborhood, even in his own home his cat could outrun him on a lazy day. Knowing though that money was just beyond the finish line roughly a soccer field in front of him made him feel a surge of confidence behind him. 

Sweat drips down the back of his neck as he bends down to prepare himself to run, jump, and climb over whatever obstacle is in his way. The jumpsuit given to all competitors has fabric that was sewn to cling tighter to specific parts of his body, most likely to show off certain assets to the Watcher’s at home. Friedman, however, was lacking such assets. Unlike his competitors to his left and right. 

Feeling sweat begin to collect at the top of his forehead, he anxiously peeks around toward those competitors as he adjusted his taped glasses further up the bridge of his nose. A woman with an athletic body to his left, her eyes can be seen pruning the unlit field of obstacles ahead for an optimal path across the finish line which one can only assume is at the top of a hill in the distance. Her jumpsuit fit snugly against her chest and her rear, she seemed not to care or was doing a rather good job of trying to ignore it. Friedman gulps a light amount of saliva and looks to his right. A slim but toned man was seen stretching his lengthy legs. 

“He must have been a track runner or swimmer outside of this.” Friedman thought to himself. 

Looking at him closer after he was done stretching, he looked up his competitor’s legs and saw another asset the jumpsuits intended to glorify. The competitor catches him looking and shoots him a second of a concerned look. Freidman looks away in embarrassment and begins to rub his fingers against his wet palm. 

“A warning glare? A look of shame as he knows a particular appendage is on display? I don’t want to ask.” Friedman thinks once again to himself. 

“One minute warning!” a polite voice over a loudspeaker blares over the obstacle course in front of him. 

“The obstacle course.” Friedman realizes he hasn’t even truly looked at the course in all of its glory. But how could he? In front of him was a field of fine sand to most likely weed out any slow or untrained people from the get go. After that, he couldn’t see much. The only thing he could see in the distance was a hill or wall that was backlit for what he could only assume was suspense… But over that wall? It was anyone’s guess at this moment. The heat at the back of his neck began to feel warmer.

“Thirty seconds. Please prepare to begin your run.” The polite voice once again says over the loudspeaker. All fifteen contestants lined up against a red line that Freidman was tipping his toes closer to. The heat behind himself was beginning to become unbearable. Other contestants were wiping their faces with their sleeves or fanning themselves. Some had faces that looked cut from stone and were simply misted with water: cool, calm, collected. It’s as if they were training for this their whole life. 

Others matched Freidman: ghastly pale, eyebrows turned upward in worry and wondering if there was ever really an out once they signed the contract. Forward feels the only way to go now, however. Forward through the obstacle course, no going back to the heat they once knew before this opportunity, before this chance, before a flyer came cascading down a wind gust and arrived at doorsteps. A piece of meat for those who need it and to try and have them bite down on it. Not poisoned meat either, but invisible lines were attached that lead anyone who wants a bite of a savory life toward this moment. Toward this obstacle course. 

“Attention contestants! The show will now begin!” The polite voice comes back. Metal shutters that were on both sides of the obstacle course lower to reveal a crowd cheering as if they were about to witness and experience rapture. 

Shouts that resemble howling baboons can be heard and hurt Freidman’s ear for a moment. He turns his head and winces for a moment as a high pitch rings in his right ear. Looking away he sees the woman to his left. She is sweating more than before and is seen looking more stressed, her eyes darting from the obstacle course to the crowds on both sides, she bites her lip and shakes her hand to try and shake away the anxiety. 

Looking to his right Freidman sees the well-endowed track runner in his starting position. His own lips tight but his fingers that touched the ground in preparation quivered heavily with every heartbeat. 

“Does anyone think they’re going to make it?” Friedman ponders for a moment and only a moment as the polite voice begins to speak again toward all those inside the building and those this is being broadcast to. 

“Hello and good evening to our lovely crowd and all those lovely viewers at home who are enjoying tonight’s competition!” The voice says as spotlights of various colors begin to turn on and perform a light show for the crowd. From the competitor’s view, all it did was blind them when it would eventually pass over them at the starting line. 

“Before we begin, we would like to thank our lovely sponsor for tonight: Squeaky Clean Queen! ‘You can’t be royal with stains around your bow-els!’ What a lovely jingle!” The voice laughs as members of the crowd join in. 

“Alright! As always, the rules are as follows: the first person across the finish line automatically gets placed into the next round of our competition!”

“Next round?” Freidman questions himself. Looking around, others also have a questioning look on their face. 

“While the crowd themself cannot interfere with the competition,” the crowd ‘boos,’ and ‘awws’ in disagreement, “We do encourage other contestants to sabotage each other during the game!” The crowd cheers. 

“Rip someone’s ear off like last season!” A crowd member shouts from their distant seats. Looking toward the area, Freidman couldn’t see anything in the shadows of the crowd as lights that shined down on the obstacle course turned on, iIlluminating the obstacle course in front of him.

Sniffling and some comments of disagreement could be heard from further down the line of contestants. 

“Finally, if anything gets thrown to the crowd including fingers, body parts, frays of a jumpsuit, and otherwise; any and all can be kept as a souvenir!” 

“You’ve got to be kidding me!” A fiery contestant was heard yelling toward a loudspeaker that would never respond. 

“Good luck, have fun, and as always,” The crowd joins in with the loudspeaker, “HERE. COMES. THAT. HEAT WAVE!” 

A large metal shutter that’s been behind the contestants collapses amongst itself to reveal a large plate of metal that was glowing ever more orange. Freidman turned in response to the sound and felt regret as the entire left side of his face felt such an immense heat that he could have sworn he smelt some of his facial hair be singed off. 

A scream could be heard as a woman with large bushy hair walks further forward across the red line in response to her hair beginning to smoke. Smoke trails linger behind her as she shakes her head, screaming once more as her hair catches fire. She falls into the sand face first and screeches. Freidman and other competitors look on in horror as the crowd begins to “oooOOoo” in response. The woman pulls herself face first off of the sand and has her scream erupt into the hot air of the obstacle course. Her face now covered in glistening sand that others including Freidman have now realized is not only sand but also larger fiberglass fragments that imbed themselves into soft fabric, material, and of course: skin. She tries to wipe her face with her sleeves which unfortunately lead to more fragments being not only applied but also abraded against her face skin Small lines of blood where lacerations happened trail down her face. 

A moment of silence from all.

“With that glamorous first impression! Let us begin!” The voice says as the crowd roars in excitement. Before turning off the loudspeaker, a loud horn sound was pushed through the loudspeaker, signaling the start of the competition. 

A large mechanical cranking noise was heard as the heat at the back of every competitor’s body began to increase. The HEAT WAVE was being pushed forward and now so were the contestants. 

Freidman runs past the red starting line, definitely not first but definitely not last to leave. As people enter the fiberglass sand pit before them, they wince as the sand being kicked up by their movements find their new home in the fabric of the jumpsuit or skin around the contestant’s ankles. Freidman’s first notice of the pain around his ankles made him quiver slightly as he ran. His right leg wanting to give out from under him. 

Others pass the screaming woman whose hair was still smoking, more vehemently now that the HEAT WAVE was gaining traction across the obstacle course. More screams came about as contestants would slip in the fine sand and have to dig themselves out. Others who felt an urge of bloodlust bore the pain to grab a handful of the terrain to throw in the faces of other contestants. Freidman notices the thought-to-be jogger to his right becoming one of the unfortunate victims to get a faceful of sand. He shouts and pushes the contestant who did so down into the sand before trying to continue running, shaking his face and blinking constantly as he went. Freidman now in front of him, he looks forward to the contestants who made it out of the sand pit now standing on the edge of darkness. 

Catching up, Freidman sees what is causing such hesitation. A pit greeted them with an open maw. Platforms that shot out from the darkness provided the competitors with their only idea of what to do. Jump across the pit, or die. These were the only options Freidman could see and think of.

A competitor that was hopeful that being the first to try out the obstacle course, he would be granted a kind of beginner’s luck by the gods, was unfortunately mistaken. As soon as he landed on a platform, his feet swept out from beneath him as his back hit the slick platform floor. His head followed shortly after, the last motion Freidman saw the man do as he now lay motionless. 

Turning around, Freidman spots those who were left behind in the sand pit were now beginning to feel the effects of the HEAT WAVE. Their jumpsuit’s fringes began to curl in response to the immense heat. Their body hair on their limbs began to singe and come closer to the skin it came out of. The soles of their shoes began to melt as the vivid waves of heat envelop the body and slowly set them all alight. Beginning the burning process that would soon befall everyone if nobody moved. 

Freidman clenched his fist and felt the sweat in his hands. He wants to move but no one else has yet either. Only when another male contestant jumps onto the platform the previous contestant tried to land on, does he think of a method to save himself. The male contestant lands close to the body of the motionless contestant astounded that he made it across the gap. Smiling to himself he laughs and sniffs around. “It’s gasoline?!” The contestant yells to the others. A dark shadow goes over the contestant’s face as he looks toward the motionless body before him. Shoving it off the platform for more space, the body falls below into the dark pit making a metallic clang as he hits the bottom. A clicking noise like that of a gas stove was heard *click click click FWOOSH!* Gas burners below ignite as the pressure of a body activates the fire below. Now a hellscape of fire laid below him warming the front of his body.

A wave of heat rises from the bottom of the pit, almost worse than what Freidman was feeling at the starting area. He couldn’t wait forever for the opportunity to be ready, if he did he wouldn’t have been able to move at all in life. He took a few breaths and a step back from the edge. He jumps across the gap and lands on all fours on a platform in front of him. His plan? To grab the edge with either his feet and/or his hands if he could. 

“It worked.” Freidman thinks to himself as his left foot grabs the ledge behind him.

Not allowing his efforts to be for nothing, he continues to jump across the platforms as his stringy hair begins to become drenched in his sweat. Only as he reached the end of this area did he realize how closely he was being followed by other contestants. The woman that was to his left at the starting line was close to him and eyed up the next obstacle: the rope swing. She looks around toward the audience, back to the rope in front of her, then to Freidman, looking away back at the rope again. She didn’t say it at the moment, but he was confident that in that one second she was telling him how scared she was for these next few seconds. 

She takes a deep breath in and out. Jumping as her foot is right on the edge of the platform, she reaches out and grabs the rope with her hands. Screaming as she grasps it tightly. The material the rope was made of poked out in spike-like sections, causing cactus-like pain to any holder. In response to the sudden mixture of emotions, her muscles unclenched in the moment: letting go. As if in slow motion, Freidman watched her fall into the glowing pit below. Not screaming as she realizes what she’s done, but instead in silent shock and disappointment. There was no safety net for falling from heaven; it’s part of the reason she joined the competition. 

Freidman looks on as others try to attempt the same action. Swing across the pit, make it to the ‘end.’ He feels his hands wet with gasoline and proceeds to prepare himself for this next challenge. Feeling the ground leave his feet, he pushes himself forward to reach out with both hands. Clenching the harsh material of the rope, he understands why the woman from before let go: the pain was excruciating. Clenching his teeth as hard as he clenched the rope, he brings his legs up and around the rope to allow for more control. Looking forward, Freidman sees the near-diagonal hill before him. If he is able to just swing across and land on it, it’s just a simple climb toward some kind of victory.

“One,” Freidman thought to himself as he began to swing, “Two,” he says outloud to focus as others screamed in the distance and nearby. 

“Three!” He says and lets go of the rope as he tries to position his body to land comfortably on the uphill terrain. With a thud and his body releasing some of the air he held in while jumping, he waits a second to be glad he’s alive. Looking up as he feels a sense of warmth begin to trail up his legs, he turns around to see the HEAT WAVE growing closer and closer, he pushes his tired limbs to crawl up the hill.

One hand after the other. One knee bringing itself up after using the other to try and wearily propel himself forward. He could see the finish line almost. As if to taunt him, a small pole with a black and white checkered flag shot itself up out of the ground to signal the end point. 

A raspy breath could be heard from behind him. Freidman didn’t dare to turn around and look his competition in the eye. He heard the rules and he knows the first one across the line is safe to some degree. 

Clawing at the hill, he pushes himself off of the hill and begins to try and run up the terrain. Almost falling backward, he pushes his body forward and continues until the flag is right. In. Front. Of. Him.

“CONGRATULATIONS!” The loudspeaker blares. “We have our first winner of the preliminaries!”

“Preliminaries?” Freidman says to himself as two panting contestants make it up the hill and join him at the peak. The HEAT WAVE powers itself off in certain sections, allowing the metal sheet to cool and get close to the contestants once again. Certain bars of metal stayed powered with heat and glowed the familiar unwelcome orange. The bars spelled out what Freidman now knows the name of the hell he has brought himself into. 

“Join us next Friday night at 8:00pm for another attempt at all those who passed the preliminaries to move on to the next round of the season! But keep in mind contestants that within a week… HERE! COMES! THAT! HEAT! WAVE!” The announcement ends.