Page 7 of Trapped

The horse appears at alarming speed, its hooves crushing fallen leaves and churning patches of grass. The rider swings his ropes smoothly around his shoulder, as if it’s the most normal thing to do in the middle of the fucking night in the woods. The horn is blown one more time, it’s sound full and velvety, though equally menacing. If it’s not the rider playing the instrument, then who is? And where does it come from?

It makes my ears buzz.

It’s in your mind.

And then, suddenly, the horse halts, the reins pulled tight. Waiting.

Fuck me, I hope he hasn’t seen me. I turn my face slightly to catch a glance of the animal and its bronze rider. They keep in the shades, silently. The silence is deathly, and a sudden snapping sound close to me makes me jump out of my skin and my blood runs cold.

There’s someone else out there. I can feel it from the way the leaves bristle. From the way the air tenses. But mostly, from the way my skin crawls.

Then, a cry, further down the trail. Its raw sound rattles my ribcage. Shifting my aching backside and head as carefully as possible toward the sound, I can’t help but shiver when I see him. The participant from before. The one who was afraid.

I don’t know why, but it feels like everything’s being put in perspective as I gaze up at him. From my position lurking in the shadows, he can’t see me. Although I wonder if he would look at me in the first place. He’s too busy freaking out. He’s mumbling to himself, hugging his school jacket close to his slender frame, head bent as if he’s counting his own toes. Then suddenly his head shoots back up, and he stares toward me. His dark mask has slid off ever so slightly, and even those loose, blonde curls that frame his cheeks and forehead like a bouquet of flowers, can’t conceal his identity.

My heart starts hammering. I know that guy. Flicking through my mind, I try to remember where I met him before. It’s not like I socialize a lot with these stuck-up kids, but there was that one guy…

My eyes widen. Yeah, that’s him. Orlane, or Olivier, or something like that. Has a job in the library.

He’s one of the nice ones.

What on earth is a guy like him doing here? He’s a geek, always his nose in his books. He shouldn’t be out here at midnight, running from some asshole on a horse. Yet here he is. He—we all are.

Because…why? Because we believed this promise to change our lives? What does a guy like him need to change? He’s from a powerful family, if the rumours are true.

On the trail, Olivier starts running. His loose jacket flutters around his frail shoulders like a cape. But instead of running away, he's…

“Mais putain, qu'est-ce que tu fais?” I hiss under my breath. He's coming my way.

Ignoring my itching flesh and whoever is too close for comfort, I flick my gaze toward the road instead. Has he not perceived the danger that's heading his way?

“Come on then, just do it!” I hear him cry out, his limbs becoming more unhinged with each step he approaches as if he’s a wooden doll steered by his master.

The horse whinnies as it stamps its hooves. And then the rider clacks his tongue, the sound sharp like a razor in the thick air of the forest.

“Allez, allez!” Bronze Mask lets out a high hoot, and then they start moving forward in one smooth motion, heading toward the sand trail.

Heading my way.

Something flashes inside me, sharp like an electric wire. My skin prickles with awareness, limbs and nervous system compensating for my faltering mind that shakes and shatters.

I shouldn’t do this. The words echo through my mind, but my body doesn’t catch up. Instead I scramble up, using the tree truck for leverage as I get back onto both feet. Once I’m standing up right, I notice the buzzing in my ears has increased. Ignoring that for now, I eye the approaching horse, then push myself from the tree and get ready to run.

“Don’t!” An arm pulls me by my shoulder and roughly pulls me back onto the ground. “Don’t interrupt his little mindfuckery.” My head spins when my knees hit the rough forest ground of grass, sand and the occasional stone. My arms reach out to protect the rest of my body, but they’re too slow, feeling like two uncoordinated antennas.

“Ouch. Watch it, man!” I snap, breathing heavily as I pant the stinging pain away. Someone reaches for my hand, yanking me back up. Before I know what’s happening, he’s got me pulled behind the tree.

“Yeah yeah, you can thank me later. I’m B, by the way.”

“You were at the other side of the tree trunk all along?” I ask, finally taking him in. No wonder I’d felt him so close.

B nods. He’s a participant like me, and the sight of his school uniform makes me feel relieved. Puts things back into perspective. Right now, that’s all we are. Ordinary students of Saint-Laurent.

“The other guy will be eliminated. Don’t save him. It’s the game,” he says. His voice rings in my mind, and it takes me an awfully long time to respond.

“But that guy on his horse…” I whisper urgently.

“I know. Just be happy that you’re not competing against him.” He hesitates a beat, then, “Who are you competing against?”

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