Page 66 of Hunter

Meanwhile, Isabella and Beto are in a small enclosure, trying to wrangle the six overexcited dogs they met this morning into harnesses. They’re working together to hold one dog in place, but the other five are barking like crazy, which makes the one they’re trying to harness all the more upset and excited.

As the other two teams disappear from sight, Juliet Garrison rushes over to Beto and Isabella, shooting a quick look at the cameraman.

“Can I get in there and help them?” she asks.

“Not a good idea. Could get them eliminated,” he says. “Best stay out there.”

Juliet squats down between two split rails outside of the enclosure, just a few inches away from her writhing, wiggling dog.

“Cheyenne,” she says, her voice soft and sweet, “come on, baby. Let Bella hold you while Beto gets you harnessed.”

Still whining pitifully, Cheyenne calms down enough to be harnessed. Once she’s securely in her harness, Beto grabs the collar of another dog and walks it over to Isabella, then grabs another harness from a shed peg.

“Hey, Augusta,” coos Juliet. “Mama’s here. Be still, sweet girl. Let Bella hold you while Beto gets you harnessed. There you go. Good girl. Good girl.”

One by one, dog by dog, with Juliet cajoling her pack, but never lifting a hand, all six dogs are finally buckled into harnesses and clipped to their mushing leads.

With fat tears of defeat in her eyes, Isabella looks over at me before clipping the final lead into place and taking her seat in the front of the golf cart. In the distance, we can already hear the other two teams returning in victory.

The Astonishing Race: Alaskais lost for Team Primos. There’s no way they can win now.

As dependable as the Grim-fucking-Reaper, Nat Keegan appears out of nowhere to share the bad news that Team Primos has been eliminated from the race…but just as he’s about to deliver the death blow, Isabella lifts her chin and cries, “Hike!” at the top of her lungs.

And the dogs, who have been waiting for that word, take off running.

Team Primos won’t win, of course.

But they won’t quit, either.

The same can’t be said for me.

As we watch them race away, I turn to Nat.

“You’re a real piece of shit. You know that?”

“Sticks and stones, my boy. Make yourself useful. Why don’t you go get the pit stop mat? We’ll set it up…just over there. Near the barn. The other teams should be here any minute.”

“Why don’tyougo get the mat?” I suggest. “I fucking quit.”

***

Isabella weeps softly on my shoulder as we ride back to the hotel. Beto, sitting behind us, says nothing, but he can barely contain his fury. No matter what Isabella says to him, he ignores her, his jaw set in stone, his eyes cold.

He’s young and angry and disappointed. I get it. I’d be pissed, too.

“B-Beto,” sobs Isabella, who is beyond exhausted. “Lo siento, primo.Lo siento m-muchisimo.”

He stares out the window like he doesn’t hear her, then turns around and leans forward.

“Hey, Carlos,” he says to the driver, “when we get back to the hotel, can you give me ten minutes to get my shit and then take me to the airport?”

“Sure,hombre.”

“Where are you g-going?” she asks.

“Home,” he says. One word. The first he’s uttered to her since we left the Garrison’s place.

“But you’ll f-forfeit the t-ten thousand.”

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