“Ow.” Zeke jumped as an identical ball caught him in the shoulder, flying at him from the opposite direction.

As David stooped down to pick his up, he realized it was less of a ball and more of a bundle. There was a white shirt and a pair of white pants rolled up tightly together. He unraveled them and furrowed his brow. Both were at least a size too small.

“I’m not sure how much more nonsense I can take this evening,” Zeke grumbled, unravelling his own bundle. “What are we supposed to—”

“Put them on.” Max’s voice suddenly crackled through the forest, amplified by some kind of loudspeaker. “And leave your old clothes in a pile on the ground. You’ll have no more need for them tonight.”

David spun in the direction of the command, disoriented. So, the others were still in the forest. Where? At least two of them couldn’t be far away, to have aimed the clothes with such accuracy. As David squinted, trying to make out their forms lurking among the trees, Max added ominously, “I also suggest that you be quick. The gauntlet will begin in three minutes.”

There was a sound of loud static, and his voice cut out.

“Gauntlet?” Zeke whispered, his voice suddenly tense. “What is that?”

“I don’t know,” David replied, wetting his lips. “But I think we should get these on.”

Clutching the bundles, they separated, each moving behind a tree. David slipped off his trousers, still feeling paranoid about who was standing where, who might be watching. Tugging on the smaller pair over his boxers, he managed to get them up to his waist—though they looked ridiculous, the hems coming up several inches short around his ankles—then tore off his shirt and replaced it with the white one. Thankfully, it was made from slightly stretchy material, though he still felt like the Michelin Man.

Conscious that their allotted three minutes must nearly be up, he ducked out from behind the tree to reunite with Zeke, who had also changed—into clothes that were clearly several sizes too big.

David grimaced. Whoever had thrown the bundles had bollocksed it up.

Before he could suggest switching clothes, something whooshed past his ear and splattered against the tree beside him. He turned to see a dark splotch.

Then a barrage of tiny balls started shooting at them from all directions.

“Oh, no,” Zeke said. “No, no, no—”

David launched forward, grabbing Zeke by the arm and pulling him into motion. Paintball wasn’t something he knew much about by any stretch of the imagination, but he understood enough to know that people wore protective gear for a reason. He didn’t feel like discovering what it felt like to get hit.

“Son of a—” Zeke staggered and swerved off course, coughing and wheezing. One quick glance over his shoulder told David he’d been caught in the ribs. The boy was on his knees, clutching at his sides.

David slipped an arm beneath Zeke’s shoulder and hauled him back up. “We’ve got to keep moving.” He poured on the speed, dragging Zeke across the undergrowth as the boy struggled to recover from the hit.

Then he heard the groan of stitching around his crotch and winced. Maybe tonight was going to be au naturel after all.

Or close to it.

He tried to do a better job of zigging and zagging through the forest, despite his physical constraints, to make them less easy targets as Zeke recovered. But they were outnumbered, and their stark white clothes didn’t help.

Several rapid heartbeats later, pain exploded in his right shoulder as a paintball found its mark, though he didn’t have time to pause and catch his bearings like Zeke had. He could hear footsteps approaching swiftly, and flickers of light started to break through the brush around them. Their attackers were gaining on them, and the closer they got, the harder the hits were going to land.

“Are you okay, David?” Zeke huffed. He was on his own two feet now, darting along a couple yards away and clutching at his pants to keep them up.

David merely grunted, not having the breath to respond, and ducked beneath a thick branch, just as another ball came whizzing past his head. He was hit by a second ball two seconds later, and then by a third. He cursed, realizing his shirt was half soaked already. He was going to be black and blue by the time this was over.

And he was going to have a flaming wedgie.

“How long is this going to go on for?!” Zeke cried out, wincing as another bullet caught him in the leg.

No response came back from the men behind them, other than a round of snickering.

Until we somehow get out of here, David thought.

He tried to stay focused on his breathing, rather than the discomfort radiating from his lower half (though he couldn’t help but think bitterly now that the outfit switch had been intentional). He had no idea how much farther they’d have to run; so he had to remain steady. David squinted, trying to see what was up ahead, whether there was any end in sight, or at least any sign of the trees thinning.

Then his foot hit an unearthed root, and he almost tripped headfirst into a large pit. He caught his balance just in time and was about to continue darting ahead after Zeke when an idea struck him.

“Zeke, stop!” he hissed.

His friend halted and whirled around, and David immediately dropped into the hole, waving at Zeke to do the same. Zeke was quick to catch on and rushed back, leaping into the hole with David and hunkering down.

David pressed a finger to his lips, trying to quiet his own heavy breathing. Their attackers were still a dozen feet or so behind and might not have been able to catch where David and Zeke had suddenly vanished to. If they could just lure a couple, or even one, this way…

“Where did they go?” David heard one of the boys shout as the sound of crackling twigs grew closer.

There was a brief pause before Max replied, “Spread out a bit. They might’ve ducked behind a bush or something.”

David pushed his back harder against the damp soil as two sets of footsteps grew closer to their hole. He exchanged a glance with Zeke in the gloom, and they both nodded wordlessly, forming a silent understanding.

They tucked their legs and feet as close as they could to their chests and waited until the footsteps reached the pit’s edge.

They had the element of surprise, but only a split-second window to take advantage of it.

David nudged Zeke in the arm. They sprang up as one, reaching for the two visible pairs of ankles and yanking them forward. The men and their weapons tumbled to the ground. They yelped and scrambled to sit up, but, leaping out from the pit, David and Zeke lunged for their weapons and managed to snatch them up first, pointing them straight at their former attackers. Dressed in black protective gear and masks with goggles, they weren’t exactly easy to identify, but it didn’t matter at this point. David was ready to make them pay.

“Breathe a word, and we’ll fire,” David whispered tersely, tightening his grip around the gun. He cast a quick glance around to check if the others had noticed them go down, but it sounded like they were still trudging on through the woods, unaware of the boys’ takeover. David and Zeke had the opening they needed.

Keeping the gun poised threateningly, David backed away around the hole, motioning for Zeke to follow, then broke into a run.

The second the guns were turned away, the boys behind them shouted for their cohorts. An explosion of paintballs came hurtling toward them, but now they could fire back. And fire they did.

Before long, the offending projectiles had reduced significantly as the other boys were forced to duck and dart for cover, allowing David and Zeke to better focus on gaining ground.

“Is it just me, or does it look like the trees are getting thinner?” Zeke panted after a long minute, gazing around wildly as he struggled to hike up his pants with one hand.

“I think you’re right,” David breathed back. It was becoming easier to run, with less low-hanging branches and fat trunks to dodge. He realized he could also hear the low zooming of vehicles. “Keep going,” he said with renewed strength in his voice. “We’re almost out.”

A couple minutes and a few more rogue paintballs later, they were out of the trees and standing on the edge of a busy, brightly-lit road. David came to a halt, his chest heaving. He looked back into the forest, concerned the guys were going to follow them out and keep firing. But the trees behind them remained still. Their attackers seemed to have retreated.

“Guess we passed the test,” David said, gingerly running a hand through his sticky hair. He glanced down at his trousers and was surprised to see they had survived the run. Mostly. Now he only hoped he hadn’t permanently injured himself.

“And thank God for that.” Zeke gasped, reaching his side and bending over, hands on his knees.

When he straightened, David finally got a proper look at his friend. Zeke’s short, black beard had turned fluorescent pink, courtesy of a ball that had exploded on his upper chest, and the rest of his face had been splattered a sickly green. His bowl-cut hair had tinges of both colors and was sticking up at all angles.

“You look good,” David said.

Zeke scoffed. “Oh. You are funny, David. For the record, I am sure I look just as good as you.”