Page 64 of The Hunt

“Yeah, it’s sort of like Tag, but on a much bigger scale,” another man added. “I think they use paintballs to mark us.”

My shoulders sagged with relief. “Oh. Right.”

“Anyway, there can only be one winner at the end, and that person wins five million dollars.”

“Five million?” My eyes widened. “That’s…wow.”

He grinned. “No shit. It’s amazing. Why do you think I signed up?”

It did sound amazing in theory, but something about all of this felt wrong anyway. After all, I still had no idea how I endedup on that yacht last night. Also, why did I have a wristband? I didn’t sign up for anything.

“I was told it can take longer than a week sometimes,” another man chimed in. “Sometimes the contestants are justthatgood at hiding, so the hunters take ages to tag everyone and get it down to the last man standing.”

“Or last woman,” a short brunette said in a crisp tone, folding her arms.

“I took two weeks off work just in case,” Chris said. “I was told it’s never lasted longer than that.”

“How did you all find out about this game?” I asked.

The awkward silence that followed was thick and heavy, like everyone was holding their breath. No one spoke. No one met my eyes. A few shifted uncomfortably, eyes darting to the ground or the sky, anywhere but at each other. It was like the question had broken something open, exposing the cracks they were all desperately trying to ignore.

Finally, the man who’d accused me of lying about the game spoke up.

“Okay, I guess I’ll tell you my big sob story first,” he said. “I was approached by the recruiters at the hospital, of all places. You see, I’ve got pancreatic cancer.”

“Oh my god, I’m so sorry,” someone cut in. “That’s so awf—”

The man lifted his hand, signaling for her to let him finish. “I’m fine. Eight to ten months from now, I’ll be fucked. But for now, I’m fit as a fiddle. Can still run ten miles a day and deadlift twice my bodyweight. Hell, you wouldn’t even know anything’s wrong if I didn’t tell you. But that’s the kicker, isn’t it? It all comes crashing down when you least expect it,” he said. “Anyway, when the recruiters told me about the Hunt, I figured—hey, this’ll be a once in a lifetime experience. It’ll be like living in one of those reality shows. Like Survivor, right?”

“Right,” a few people murmured in unison.

“Even if I get caught and lose, it doesn’t matter,” the man said, shrugging. “I’ll still have had a lot of fun playing. And if I win, my family will have five million to help them out after I’m gone. It won’t take away their grief, but it’ll make their lives easier.”

“True,” Chris said softly, face etched with sympathy.

“But first things first,” the man went on, eyes twinkling as a slow smile spread over his face. “If I win, you can bet your ass I’ll be buying myself a McLaren before I kick the bucket.”

Everyone smiled and laughed, though the awkward mix of tension and sympathy for the man’s illness was palpable.

A tall blonde woman spoke up. Her face was flushed. “I’m not sick,” she said, rubbing the back of her neck as she looked down at the sand. “I was approached by the organization at my bank. I’ve been having, um… a little trouble with my mortgage.”

“You don’t need to be embarrassed by that,” Chris said. “A lot of people are having trouble with debt these days.”

“Yeah, I was approached the same way,” another man chimed in. “Not about a mortgage debt, but a similar situation.”

“Hold on.” I lifted a palm, my mind racing. “Do these recruiters happen to be from a secret society called The Wild Hunt?”

Several pairs of suspicious eyes swiveled toward me. “I thought you said you didn’t know about any of this stuff,” someone called out from the back of the group.

“I don’t. But I go to college in Havenport with a bunch of guys from The Wild Hunt, and all of this game stuff… it seems related,” I said, pulse racing. “I mean, the name and concept of the game, the location of the yacht party, the huge offer of money—it all seems linked. Am I right?”

A woman near the front nodded. “Yeah, you are. The recruiters said they were working on behalf of The Wild Hunt when they approached me.”

Someone else nodded too. “I’m from the area, and I heard they recruit out of Hollingsworth,” he said. He looked back at me. “That’s your college?”

“Yup.”

Chris cleared his throat. “I should be honest with you all,” he said. “I’m not sick like, er…”

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