Page 59 of Taunting Tarran
‘Fucking cannibals by the looks of it.’
‘It would seem that way. Before we started the game, all players were told thatonce a player had claimed their prize…’
‘When their prize is dead, you mean?’
‘Yes…then the players are given instructions to descend. Without Sal’s help, we’re sitting ducks.’
‘Unless I die.’
‘Hey, that’s not going to happen, little lamb.’
We strain our ears, every sound amplified as we creep down the mountainside. Then we see him – a man crouching over his kill, his movements almost ritualistic as he pulls an arrow from her lifeless body. The silence shatters with a groan, low and mechanical as the speakers spring to life.
‘RED LIGHT.’
‘Fuck, don’t move.’
‘I can get to him,’ Tarran mumbles, her eyes gesturing to her waistband. I open the coat, my hand brushing against the knife she’d pilfered from The Trinity.
‘EMILIA HAS BEEN ELIMINATED FROM THE GAME. WILL BUYER 041 PLEASE RETURN TO BASE.’
The glint in her eyes is as sharp as the blade itself but I can’t risk her moving.
‘Not during Red Light. Either he or snipers will take you out first,’ I steady my breath, each inhale and exhale a quiet rhythm to anchor Tarran. I can see she’s a storm, adrenaline coursing through her veins, it’s barely contained, and I know the moment she gets green light, there will be no holding her back. Truthfully, I don’t want to. There’s a dark, unspoken part of me that craves the moment – the moment this man realizes what’shappening. That fleeting flash of fear in his eyes as she claims his life.
‘GREEN LIGHT.’
Tarran shoots off, swift and silent, vanishing into the underbrush like a shadow. I step forward, closing the gap between me and the other player.
‘Nice,’ I say, nodding towards his handiwork.
He jumps, spinning around, ‘Holy shit, you scared the eebie jeebies out of me,’ he replies, his voice a half-laugh, half-growl. And the tap on my shoulder feels like a silent boast of his kill. ‘You still looking for yours?’ he asks, casually.
‘Yeah,’ I reply, ‘took my weapon, the cunt.’ The words taste bitter, but they serve a purpose and keep him at ease.
And then like a lioness stalking her prey, Tarran emerges from the shadows. Her finger presses to her lips in a shush gesture, her eyes locked on him. In a fluid motion, her arms snake around his neck, tightening into a chokehold, the moment stretched taut as he struggles, jerking, gasping for air.
‘H-help me,’ he splutters.
I step closer, my gaze locked onto his as he begs for his life. There it is, the unmistakable flicker of fear. It’s so intoxicating, it’s almost poetic. He’s realised it’s too late, that he’s become prey. I chuckle, fear never lies, never disappoints.
Tarran’s voice cuts through the moment like a scalpel. ‘A little help here?’
Her eyes bore into mine pulling me back to the present. ‘Gabriel, snap outof it,’ she barks.
I blink, shaking off the moment. She’s right – there’s no room for indulgence, not now.
I step back, yielding to her as her hand rises. And then, without hesitation, her blade glides across his neck. No mercy. His skin parts like a crimson floodgate, the blood surging forth in violent waves as his heart pumps. It’s relentless, pooling, spreading and spluttering at my face. He’s gasping, each breath a desperate, ragged plea for life. I stand frozen, watching the blood pool beneath him, my mind caught up in the moment.
‘For fuck’s sake, Gabriel!’ Tarran’s voice slices through. ‘Where are you? Grab his headset, bow and arrows, and let’s get the fuck out of here.’
CHAPTER 29
THE PUNISHER
We leave the senator’s body slumped against a tree as we descend the mountain, the hunter’s headset echoing and repeating its cold, metallic mantra.
‘Proceed to base,’ followed by instructions.
