Page 66 of Beautiful Liar

Slightly different in that the fucking heirs and their goons would choose what to do with us. We had no clue what waited for us in that old manor, but Fox didn’t seem worried about it, so Iwouldn’t be either.

We walked like lambs to the slaughter down the path filled with students looking as if we were being reaped. I wanted to laugh but it wasn’t funny. Charity kept brushing her arm against mine, leaning into me as if she thought I could protect her. I wasn’t sure. She turned her head to me when she did it again. “Sorry.”

I nodded but I wasn’t sure what she was apologizing for. We were all wearing the exact same thing. Black tactical gear and, except for our size, you couldn’t really tell us apart. Even Charity hadn’t highlighted her curves this time. It was hard even for me to tell them apart. Well, except for Micah. He was the shortest of the group. And Fox and River had the same build. I couldn’t tell them apart. Wren was shorter than River, but taller than Micah. I stood taller than everyone but Fox and River, but I was thinner than them and Morgan was jumpy as fuck. Yeah, I think if anyone had half a mind, they could tell us apart. With any luck, once we started running, things wouldn’t be so obvious.

The grounds in front of the belltower were filled with horses.

“What the fuck?” Fox whispered.

There were other groups already lingering about. Some wore tactical gear. Some wore face masks as if this wereThe Purge. As if hiding their faces, they would be absolved of their sins. We all had balaclavas, but it’d been more to hide our faces from the enemy. Not to be the enemy.

Dr. Casera got on the podium. He looked as if he hadn’t slept either.

Wren knocked my arm. “Take inventory of our enemies,” he said.

I perused the crowd. The students, like us, had blunt weapons. Some carried small bats, some regular bats. Some hadsmall clubs. Ashton stood among his crew, scanning the area until his eyes landed on me and he glowered. He wore tactical gear with lots of pockets, a bag on his back. He shook his head slowly.

Traitor,he mouthed.

What the fuck had he expected? The crowd thickened and I lost sight of him.

I’d expected the twenty of us to be lined up at the border of the property, but nope. As Dr. Casera called our names one by one, we were blindfolded and taken by horse to a spot in the woods and dumped like shit onto the forest floor. So much for sticking together.

Chapter Twenty-Six

Tomás

Once my feet touched solid ground, I ripped off the blindfold. The horse and rider took off, kicking a trail behind. I shoved the blindfold into my pocket just in case. Although it was early afternoon and the sun should’ve been bright in the sky, under the canopy of trees time didn’t seem to matter. Some parts of the forest floor were darker than others. As if in the span of a few steps you went from noon to evening. It fucked with my head.

I hated the woods. I hated Arcadia. This fucking bullshit of being cattle to entertain the fuckers who pulled our strings. And I hated being afraid.

I missed the city sounds, the streets filled with people, even if someone wanted to put a bullet in you. I missed the smell of exhaust and the sound of dogs barking. Sometimes a rooster in the morning.

I hated this green silence bullshit, but here I was anyway.

I figured I had to go opposite where the guy had headed off to. I pulled up my sleeve to look at the compass Fox had given us. We were to head north. The castle was carved into the cliff face. I’d seen it from a distance, shrouded in trees. I’d been rounded with half of the chosen for this round. Ashton included. The horses would be back with the others

Fuckers.

The faster I got to the castle, the better, so I started walking. I pulled out my bokken. I felt like an imposter samurai wannabe, but it felt better to have a weapon in my hand than nothing. I used it to swipe at the tall grass. With my luck, I’d fall in a hole or worse.

Stupid. So fucking stupid.

If I wanted to get killed, I shoulda stayed in Chicago.

Fucking Maddox. I hated him.

Spring brought a mixture of rain and snow that had turned the ground into a hard slush. It also made walking slow and exhausting. I should’ve done more exercise than I had in this place. Who fucking knew I had to one day be fit to survive the damn woods. I’d thought the war games were that—a damn game.

I walked for a few hours, listening to birds and small critters move around me. The sun had started to dip and dark clouds slid in its place. The temperature fell with it. I was thankful Fox knew firsthand about survival and had layered us in warm clothing and boots. We also wore a vest with a water bottle, snacks, and a solid first aid kit. Just in case. If we needed a real medic from the school, we were screwed until tomorrow. Our sacks also had a fresh pair of socks, gloves, insect repellant, tinder and a lighter. Everything a grown man needed to stay alive in the fucking jungle.

The whole place seemed deserted until I heard a whistle. I stopped, my senses focused on the sound. I heard another whistle to my left. Then another up ahead. Movement of leaves and brush. A ca-caw. And then a scream.

The scream made the hairs on my body stand on end and I ran. Toward it, not away from it. My bokken tight in my hand. No one ever called me smart, but I couldn’t just ignore that scream. It’d haunt me for the rest of my life.

I broke cover just twenty paces from Zarek, one of Ashton’s goons. He stood over Micah who was writhing on the ground. The fucker had a bat in his hand, laughing. He’d obviously used it to hit the guy. He either was stupid enough to think I was part of his group, or didn’t hear me over his laughter, but he didn’t bother looking up at me when I broke through the trees. Not until I was in his face, swinging my bokken in a two-handed swing to the back of his knees. I couldn’t kill him, but Ineeded to immobilize him. Legs were a solid, no kill, hit.

With a grunt, he fell on both knees, but didn’t hesitate. He lunged forward in a roll and came up on his feet. His face red, laced with pain and a shitload of hatred, the bat still in his hand. “You, fucker, are going to regret that.”

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