Page 67 of The Hunt

Cheryl waved the driftwood in the air. “We’ll call this the talking stick. Whoever has it can speak. Everyone else zips it,” she said, arching an eyebrow. “Now, first things first. Has anyone seenanythingthat might help us figure out where we are? Raise your hand if you have.”

She glanced around the crowd, waiting expectantly. No one stuck their hand up.

I nudged Nikki. “Why don’t you mention the ribbon?” I whispered.

She shook her head. “I was thinking about it, but… it’s just a ribbon around a tree,” she whispered back hesitantly. “It could’ve been there forever. So it’s probably nothing useful, and everyone will think I’m an idiot for bringing it up.”

“No, it really could be something,” I said insistently. “And no one else has seen anything at all. So you might as well say something, right?”

She bit her bottom lip. Then she swallowed hard and put her hand up. Cheryl handed the driftwood over. “What did you see?”

Nikki coughed to clear her throat, looking down at the sand. She was clearly worried that everyone would think the same as her—that the ribbon was just some meaningless thing left there years ago.

I gave her an encouraging smile and nodded.

“I saw a black piece of ribbon tied around a tree on the edge of the forest,” she finally said. “I was thinking… maybe it could be a marker for forestry workers? Like, a sign that the tree is sickor something. And if forestry workers come out here, then that could mean there’s a road somewhere nearby.”

An excited murmur went through the group, and multiple heads nodded. Cheryl gestured for Nikki to return the talking stick, and then she spoke up again. “I think we should go and check out this tree,” she said. “Does everyone agree with that? Put your hand up if youdon’t.”

Not a single hand shot up. Cheryl nodded at Nikki, eyes glimmering with satisfaction. “Okay. Lead the way, please.”

We all turned and trudged down the beach, following Nikki. She stopped around five minutes later and pointed. “There,” she said. “That’s it.”

Several of the group members sprinted toward the tree, abandoning all thoughts of order. “There’s something here!” one of them called back to the rest of us.

We all hurried forward.

“It’s an arrow!” someone else said. “Carved on the tree below the ribbon.”

“It’s pointing downward,” Nathan said, frowning as he craned his neck to peer at the thick trunk. “Do you think that means there’s something in the ground here?”

“Yeah, maybe. Should we dig and see?” a petite auburn-haired woman asked, voice tinged with anxiety.

“Fuckingduh,” another woman shot back. “Of course we should. But not me. I hate sand getting under my nails.”

Nathan rolled his eyes and stepped forward. I stepped forward too, followed by Nikki, Cheryl, Chris, and a few other survivors whose names I didn’t know.

We arranged ourselves in rough lines, crouched down, and started digging into the cold, grainy mix of sand and dirt at the base of the tree. The wind picked up, howling in the distance, but it didn’t distract us as we worked, unearthed debris tumblingfrom our hands until—clink—one of us finally hit something solid.

Nathan’s fingers worked quickly to clear away the remaining sand, exposing the surface of a heavy metal hatch with a rusted latch.

"Help me open it," he ordered, his voice tight.

I reached forward, and so did Chris and Cheryl, our fingers scrambling for purchase on the enormous latch. It took everything we had for the four of us to pull it free, the metal groaning in protest as it creaked open to reveal what lay beneath.

It was an enormous cache, its contents piled neatly beneath the surface. My eyes widened as I saw an array of khaki backpacks, each one labeled with a number.

“What the hell?” Nikki muttered.

As if on cue, an audio device hidden in the cache crackled to life, its voice sending chills up my spine.

"Ladies and gentlemen... welcome to the Hunt."

15

Everly

A man crowed victoriouslyfrom the back of the crowd. “I fuckingknewit!” he said. “I knew this was all part of the game!”

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