Page 68 of The Hunt

“Shut up,” someone else snapped. “We need to hear this!”

The deep voice on the audio device crackled to life again, smooth and composed.

“Firstly, please allow me to apologize for the unconventional manner in which you were brought here,” it began. “Let me assure you, it was necessary, for your safety and ours. You see, ensuring you never return and pinpoint this location is of utmost importance. But please, rest easy. At no point were any of you in actual danger.”

A murmur rippled through the group as the voice paused to let the words sink in. After a moment, it continued.

“The yacht was never in trouble. What you heard—the booms, the creaks, the storm—it was all simulated. Cleverly crafted sound effects, flashing lights, sprinkler systems for the fake rain. As for the strange quality of the air below deck that some of you may have noticed—it wasn’t smoke or a chemical spill. Just a harmless sedative, delivered in gas form. Completely safe for humans. It simply ensured you drifted off to sleep.”

Someone gasped, and the voice sounded as if it were gloating as it went on. “While you slept, you were carefully loaded onto boats and brought to this beach. When you awoke, the scene was set, just like in your favorite movies. Washed ashore. Confused but unharmed.”

A nervous laugh escaped from someone in the group, and within moments, more chuckles followed. Relief spread, loosening the tension as people exchanged wide-eyed glances, some shaking their heads at the absurdity.

“This is so fucking cool!” one guy said. “They really got me!”

I rolled my eyes, lips thinning. It wasn’t cool. It wascruel—making us all think we might die in a yacht sinking before stranding us in a random place. It was also needlessly elaborate, considering the whole point was just to scare us. It made it seem like the organizers reveled in their cruelty and the fear they instilled in the contestants. That didn’t bode well with the feeling I already had that something was wrong here.

Also, my first question still remained. Who the hell signed me up for this and brought me here? My first suspect for fucked-up shenanigans would usually be Jake, but he hated me, so why would he sign me up to potentially win millions of dollars?

An image of Rhett’s face, along with his tattooed, scarred chest and arms, suddenly flashed in my mind.No,I told myself.He wouldn’t bring you here either. Why would he?

The voice on the device continued, smooth and dispassionate. "The wristbands you were given at the marina weren’t assigned to prove your guest status. They’re actually GPS trackers. Don’t worry, the hunters won’t have access to the location data. They’re solely for our tech team’s use, allowing them to monitor your movements and ensure no one gets lost in the wilderness. Your safety is our priority, after all."

There was a brief pause, the silence hanging heavy before the voice resumed.

"Each of you will be assigned a survival kit. Inside, you'll find a map, basic clothing and shoes, essential tools, and rations. The bags also contain a radio that will communicate valuable information to each player through a small earbud that fits in your right ear. If you lose it, don’t worry. There are five spares in the bag,” it said. “How you use your tools and rations is up to you, but remember, these items are all you have; at least for the time being. You must rely on yourself—or on others, if you choose to form alliances. However, you must remember: there can only be one winner, so trust is a luxury, not a necessity."

The voice grew colder, more detached, as if relishing the weight of what was to come.

"In a game like this, out in the real wilderness, injuries are inevitable. Minor cuts or bruises? The first aid kit will take care of that. But should something more serious happen, don’t worry. You’ll be airlifted out and taken to a hospital immediately. Unfortunately, if that happens, you’ll be out of the game and therefore out of the running to win the prize.”

The tension in the air thickened, and I could almost feel the cold smile in the voice's words as it continued. “To make the game more interesting, there are safe zones all over the island."

“Wait, this is anisland?” Nathan said, eyes wide with disbelief.

“Seriously?” The tall blonde woman next to him rolled her eyes. “You didn’t figure that out already from the lack of phone signal?”

The voice went on. "In these zones, you’ll find more rations and necessities, and you’ll be safe from the hunters. Even if they’re right next to the safe zone, they are not allowed to touch you,” it said. “The safe zones are available for limited times only, and the locations and times will be announced over your earpiece. You’ll need to keep moving, because after a few hours,the zones will shift. Once a safe zone closes, anyone still inside must leave immediately, or they will become vulnerable."

“Great,” Nathan muttered. “That means we can’t just find a safe zone and hole up there for the whole game.”

“Did you really think they’d make it that easy?” Chris asked, upper lip curling with derision.

I hushed them so I could hear as the voice droned on. "Some safe zones are hidden and marked only by certain symbols. These zones willnotbe announced over your earbud, and the information about their opening and closing times will only be available at the zone itself. You’ll need to be observant and resourceful to find these places. Not everyone will be able to locate them, but those who do will gain an advantage,” it said. “Next, there willoccasionally be supply drops delivered to random locations within the safe zones. The contents of these drops are limited—first come, first served. Lastly, beware of false safe zones. Not all areas that seem safe truly are. Some places may appear to offer protection but come with unforeseen risks."

The voice paused for a moment to let all the information sink in. Then it went on, chillingly smooth as ever.

"Scattered across the island are hidden caches containing weapons, tools, and other items to aid you in your survival. However, not all caches are created equal. Some may hold items that could be your downfall if used unwisely,” it said. “Also, throughout the Hunt, some contestants will be randomly marked as 'bounties.' Hunters who capture and tag a bounty will receive extra points. For the bounty, survival becomes even more crucial. Be prepared—anyone could be next."

“It better not bemewho has to be the bounty first,” a young woman said in a scathing tone. She was the one who’d complained about getting sand under her nails earlier.

I twisted my lips, wondering why she’d willingly signed up for a survival game when she so clearly hated the wilderness.I could only guess that the offer of five million dollars was too enticing for her to ignore.

"The game begins at five p.m. today,” the voice went on. “Until then, you have the rest of the day to prepare yourself, get to know your fellow contestants, or do whatever you want."

The crowd of contestants split off into smaller groups to chat amongst themselves as Nathan, Peter, and Chris began to unload the backpacks from the cache. I grabbed my bag when it was handed to me and carried it over to a shady spot beneath a tree, settling down to sift through its contents.

Inside was a survival kit, just like the voice promised: a map, a compass, a small pocket watch, a flashlight, water, a few packets of rations, a small roll of toilet paper, and a first aid kit.

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