I clip the GPS band around my wrist. I can feel the frantic beat of my pulse beneath the smooth plastic. I want to take it off but Miss Frost would kill me.

The band reads 9.00. There are three hours until noon.

I join my classmates at the start line. When the signal sounds, we’ll have ten minutes to escape into the bush. Then we’ll be tracked down like wild animals. It’s terrifying, but it’s our only chance to save Scarlett.

Poor Scarlett. Punishments shouldn’t be decided by cruel games. The worst part is that Miss Frost seems to be taking some kind of sick pleasure out of the situation.

She stalks back and forth behind the line. Her last whisper puts goosebumps on the back of my neck. ‘When I find you – and I will find you – you must return immediately to the main camp site.’

Mr Bambuckle applauds from his seat under the twisted gum. ‘What fun!’

Miss Frost walks around in front of us. She has swapped her teaching outfit for an equally stylish white tracksuit. Her muscles are surprisingly toned. She looks like one of the senior athletes Coach Wyatt is always pointing out to me at training. ‘That could be you if you work hard enough,’ he says.

It certainly seems like Miss Frost has been training hard.

It could just be me, but I notice a dreamy expression on Mr Bambuckle’s face every time he looks at her. It reminds me of the way Damon looks at Victoria.

Miss Frost blows a whistle. That’s our signal.

We take off into the bush, tearing through the undergrowth as fast as we can. Before a minute is up, we’ve separated into different groups.

I can hear Evie sniffing back tears as she tries to keep up with me and Sammy at the front of the pack. I want to go back and help her, but it’s best we split up.

Myra is back to the left. I can hear her crashing over sticks and bushes and making as much noise as Damon’s early morning serenade.

I grit my teeth and up the pace, thoughts of Scarlett driving me on. I pray Miss Frost doesn’t come after me first. Sammy swerves off to the right. Maybe she’ll go for him. Then again, maybe she’ll target me because I’m the fastest.

After a few more minutes I’m on my own. I stop and listen. I can hear distant rustles as my classmates scamper away in different directions. I can’t see anyone, so I sit down and gather my breath.

Something yellow grabs my attention. A flower. It’s sitting on top of a pointy rock a couple of metres away. The odd thing is, it’s not attached to a stem. Someone must have placed it there. I crawl over – being sure to keep low to the ground – and pick it up. It’s fresh.

I spot an identical flower wedged between two thin branches in a small tree. I creep over and pluck it out. Then I slip the flowers around my headband. They’re pretty.

There’s a third yellow flower on the ground just beyond the small tree. I get down again and move over to pick it up.

The chain of yellow is broken by something blue. A feather sparkles at the base of a much larger tree. I shuffle over and examine it, resting my back against the broad trunk of the gum. The blue plume glints and glistens, so I add it to my headband along with the third flower.

‘No!’ A shout cuts through the silence. It’s Myra. Her voice is tight with fear. Worse than that, she’s nearby. Too close for comfort.

I peer out from behind the tree and freeze. Myra is only a bus length away from where I’m sitting and she’s cornered by Miss Frost. The teacher reaches out a hand and tags her on the shoulder.

Myra looks devastated. She takes off her GPS band and hands it to Miss Frost, who slips it into her pocket and points in the direction of camp. Myra’s shoulders slump forward as she trudges away.

Miss Frost stays still. She studies her GPS tracker and surveys the area. She must know I’m close. I pull back behind the tree and hold my breath.

Footsteps.

Slow and steady. Getting closer. So this is what it feels like to be hunted.

I dare not move a muscle. She’s on the other side of the tree. I’ve been caught far too early and I’m furious at myself for stopping to rest. Coach Wyatt would kill me for doing something like this. He’s always telling me to push myself to new limits. ‘Rest comes after exhaustion,’ he says.

The footsteps suddenly take off. I turn to see Miss Frost running swiftly towards the river. She’s spied Victoria and Harold, who are huddled behind a tall rock. They should have split up.

I exhale slowly. But I can’t understand why she didn’t catch me when I was so close. I check to make sure the band is working. Its tiny lights flash across the screen.

Perhaps Miss Frost wanted two for the price of one. In either case, I stand up and dash away before I can be seen.

I slow to a trot, eyes peeled. I’ve been running for a few minutes now and should have put some distance between myself and Miss Frost.

Scarlett deserves better than this. She doesn’t need the stress of this stupid game. Nobody does. Miss Frost was so hard on her back there, pressuring her into admitting what she did. It’s not fair.

I ease to a stop and check out my surroundings. Nothing but trees. I’ve lost sight of the river and haven’t come across any roads. I sit for another quick rest.

Coach Wyatt would be at me for taking a break. He’d be urging me on, telling me to lift my game. Telling me I’ll never make the State Team if I don’t have a mind and body of steel.

The State Team.

My dream.

From the moment I started training with Coach Wyatt I’ve had one goal – to make the State Team. It’s harder than it sounds. Everyone at school expects me to get there, but they haven’t met the other athletes at my club. I’m not sure I’ll ever be good enough. Especially when I suck at hurdles.

Hurdles.

My dream crusher.

Hurdles are literally the barrier blocking me from moving to the next level in my career. That’s what Coach Wyatt calls it – my career. ‘You must train harder if you want to progress your career,’ he says. ‘The hurdles are stopping you from moving forward. It’s all about your front leg. You need to raise it higher.’

Apparently, he can’t do much more with me until he sees improved hurdling. I don’t know if I’ll ever get there to be honest. I just can’t seem to get my front leg high enough.

Coach Wyatt thinks it’s a physical thing, but I know it’s all in my head. I tripped on a hurdle as a young runner. Badly. I chipped a bone in my elbow and spent six weeks with my arm in a sling. It hurt like crazy. The pain is seared into my memory and I wonder if I’ll ever get over my fear of hurdling.

The time on my GPS band reads 9.26. Still over two and a half hours of game time remain.

A flash of colour catches my eye. It’s Damon and he’s running straight towards me. ‘Get out of here!’ he yells. ‘Miss Frost is coming!’

I turn and run, joining Damon in a frantic scramble. We sidestep trees, weaving our way through the bush. I can hear Miss Frost gaining on us. She’s some athlete.

We burst into a clearing, panting for breath, and stop dead in our tracks. The river is straight ahead – it’s wound around and cut us off. There are dozens of large boulders on the right, thick forest on the left.

Having the same idea, we take off to the left, but Damon’s clumsy strides clip my heel. I trip and face plant into the ground.

Damon slips through a gap in the forest and vanishes from sight.

Light footsteps reach the clearing and I look up to see Miss Frost standing about ten metres away. ‘Well, well, well,’ she says quietly. She’s not even puffed. ‘I wasn’t expecting Damien to lead me to the famous Milly Amsterdam.’

‘Please,’ I beg, thinking of Scarlett. ‘I don’t care that you get our names wrong. Just give me another chance.’

Miss Frost laughs. It’s a surprisingly musical laugh – the type you would expect to hear at a dinner party or in a conversation with friends. Then her voice returns to a murderous whisper. ‘You must have rocks in your head if you think I’d give you a second chance.’

She glances at her GPS tracker and then left at the forest. ‘This is far too easy. I should have given myself less time –’

But I’ve leapt up and ducked behind one of the boulders to the right. I scan the landscape frantically. There’s an opening between two more boulders further back and I squeeze through them. I’m not going down without afight.

Miss Frost’s whisper seeps through the stone. ‘I can see you on my tracker, Mildred …’

I edge back silently, moving further into the labyrinth. My shoulder brushes against something yellow. It’s a flower – loose on the stone – just like the flowers in my headband. I grab it and press further into the maze, flattening my stomach to fit between two more boulders.

The ground starts to slant away. I drop to my haunches and follow the slope, sliding under a gap in the rocks. I almost put my hand down on another yellow flower but see it just in time. I add it to the growing collection in my headband and continue crawling forward.

‘You do make the chase more fun,’ a whisper teases. It floats through the space between the rocks behind me. ‘If only Alfred had put up such a fight. The silly child curled into a pitiful ball when I found him. But you, Misty … you turn the hunt into sport.’

There’s a small cave carved into the base of one of the boulders. A blue feather lies at the entrance. I roll into the crevice, clutching the plume.

‘The signal has dropped out …’ The whisper is frustrated. ‘Where did she go?’

I press myself flat against the cold rock, as far into the hollow as I can.

Miss Frost’s white sneakers suddenly fill the narrow entrance of the cave, blocking the light. She’s so close I can see the pattern in her silver laces. ‘I know you’re around here somewhere,’ she says. I can hear her tapping the tracker. ‘Work, you blasted thing.’

I hold my breath, tensing every muscle in my body. My fingers squeeze the quill of the feather.

The shoes shuffle on the leaf litter. I can read the branding on the side and I pray she doesn’t kick me in the face. ‘She can’t have gotten far.’

I shut my eyes, too terrified to watch. If Miss Frost looks down, she’ll see where I’m hiding. Then all she’d have to do is reach in and tag me. There’s no escape.

‘Perhaps she went through that gap,’ she mutters to herself.

I pray it’s not the gap I’m hiding in.

Please don’t look down, please don’t look down.

The shoes take two slow steps and stop again. I can hear Miss Frost pressing buttons on the tracker.

I dare not exhale.

‘I will find you, Minty,’ she whispers, ‘if it’s the last thing I do.’ With that, her shoes leap onto a rock and she strides away.

I bump into Evie at the edge of the river. She’s cowering behind a shrub, sobbing uncontrollably.

‘Evie,’ I say, ‘are you okay?’

She shakes her head. ‘I’m so scared. I don’t want Miss Frost to find me.’

I squat down and put my arm around her. ‘I’m scared too,’ I say. ‘But you need to keep moving. You’ll be an easy target if you stay in one spot.’

‘She hasn’t found me yet,’ says Evie stubbornly. Fear has made her defiant.

I rub her back. ‘You must keep moving. I know how brave you can be,’ I say. ‘I really do.’

Evie looks at me with uncertain eyes. ‘Truly?’

I squeeze her shoulder. ‘I’ll never forget the story you told us in class. You know, the one about the washing machine. I wish I was that brave.’

Evie smiles and her body relaxes.

‘Do you know if anyone else has been caught?’ I ask. ‘I know Myra, Albert, Harold and Victoria are back at camp.’

Evie’s smile fades. ‘I saw her chase down Ren and Vinnie.’ She pauses and stares into space. ‘And Sammy.’

‘Sammy!?’ I blurt.

Evie nods. ‘I saw it all. She hunted him down like a cheetah chasing its prey. She moves like lightning.’

This is bad news. Sammy is almost as fast as me. I wonder if my fastest sprint will be enough to escape when I need to.

The edge of the river laps the bank. I check the time on my band: 10.12. ‘I need to get going,’ I say. ‘There are some trees further down the river. I’m going to check them out. I really don’t think you should stay here.’

Evie pulls her knees to her chest and shakes her head. ‘I’m not moving.’

‘Your call,’ I say. ‘But I know you have it in you.’ I give Evie another squeeze and stand to leave.

I move under the cover of the steep embankment and follow the river for a while. There is a cluster of tall pine trees ahead – a vantage point.

Pine trees are a cinch to climb. We have one in our backyard. Coach Wyatt tells me to climb it as often as I can for training. He says it’s good for my agility. He says it will build up strength in my legs and improve my hurdling. If only it took away my fear of tripping.

The pine trees at the river are great for climbing. I take hold of the lowest branch and hurl myself up. I secure my footing on the next branch and ascend higher. I already have a much better view of the surrounding area. I climb a few more rungs and survey the landscape in more detail.

There is a dirt road to the north of the embankment. It leads to a bridge in one direction and the main camp site in the other. I can just make out the tiny figures of those who have been caught sitting around the smoky fire. I don’t have much room to play with. The road is a boundary, which – together with the river – forms a corner in the field of play and limits my options. I need to return to the ground and escape from the junction.

‘Miffy!’

There’s a scream from the direction I’ve just come. It’s Evie.

I hold tightly to the branch and watch as Evie – chased by Miss Frost – scurries along the river’s edge towards the pine trees. She’s leading the hunter directly to me. I want to call out for her to stop. I want to tell her to run in a different direction. But yelling would give me away.

My sweaty hands grip the pine and I clamber up about a dozen branches. Then I spot something strangely familiar. There is a yellow flower on the next branch, and two more on the branches beyond. They form a floral trail leading further up the tree.

The trail leads to a blue feather – exactly like the two I found earlier. I scramble to the branch with the feather and take hold of it.

Evie is at the base of the tree. She’s desperately peering up through the branches, trying to find me. ‘Help me!’

Miss Frost leaps out and tags her. ‘Got you!’

I squash myself against the trunk of the tree, hoping it’s enough to hide me from view. Hoping Miss Frost doesn’t look up.

‘Miffy,’ pleads Evie. ‘Help!’

‘What are you talking about?’ says Miss Frost. ‘Skippy is nowhere in the vicinity – look.’ She points to her tracker. ‘See? Now, give me your band.’

Evie trembles as she passes her band to the teacher.

‘You can join Brayman back at camp,’ says Miss Frost. ‘I found him not two minutes ago.’

Brayman?

Brayman …

Damon! Miss Frost must have found Damon.

That leaves only me, Slugger, Carrot and …

‘Scarlett!’ cries Evie. She’s caught sight of her friend’s red ribbon by the river, and in her anxiety, she has given her away.

Miss Frost turns swiftly and rushes towards Scarlett. She’s tagged in the blink of an eye and joins Evie in a despondent walk back to camp.

I try to see where Miss Frost is, but she’s vanished into the surrounding scrub as quickly as she appeared. Once again, she’s taken off without seeing me.

Why? Why can’t she see me on her tracker? Is it something about the yellow flowers and blue feathers? Every time I find them, Miss Frost seems to lose me.

I study the blue feather in my hand. I reach up to my headband and pull the other feathers loose. The way the sunlight makes them shimmer reminds me of something. Suddenly it becomes crystal clear, like clouds dissolving away.

The feathers belong to Dodger.

11.37.

There is under half an hour of time remaining and it’s come down to me, Slugger and Carrot. Three players left to determine Scarlett’s fate.

I climb down the pine tree and head towards the main camp site. I figure it’s the last place Miss Frost would expect me to go. Plus, if I show up on her tracker, there are plenty of options for a getaway.

Using the cover of some prickly bushes, I creep closer. My ears are working in overdrive, listening out for anything that might be Miss Frost.

My classmates are sitting on the logs beneath the twisted gum tree. It looks like they’re writing in books, but at least they seem to be happier now that they’re back with Mr Bambuckle.

Just as I’m about to edge closer, Slugger lumbers into view. He shakes his head as he enters the camp site. I look at his wrist and notice that he’s not wearing a band. He’s been caught!

It’s just me and Carrot. Unless …

I peer out from behind the bushes and scan the camp site for Carrot. There’s no sign of him. I sigh with relief.

Slugger slumps down on a log. It cracks under his weight. I don’t think I’ve ever seen him this dejected.

Mr Bambuckle spots Slugger and walks over to him. He hands him a drink and Slugger musters a smile. He points back to the way he came and acts out a pushing motion. He’s telling the teacher something and it looks important. Mr Bambuckle nods as he listens.

The teacher signals to Evie, who brings a notebook over to Slugger.

The rest of the class are busy writing. Mr Bambuckle has found a distraction to put them at ease. Even Scarlett seems too occupied by her work to be worried. Victoria stands up to stretch and looks in my direction. I duck behind the safety of the bush before I can be seen.

But I have been seen.

Miss Frost is leaning against a tree behind me. She looks like she’s been standing there for a while, relishing the moment. She smiles cruelly and presses a button on her tracking device. ‘There are but two signals left,’ she says. ‘I shall enjoy catching you and Garret.’

In my desperation to get away, my foot slides on loose dirt and I graze my knee. ‘You’ll never catch me!’ I cry.

The commotion draws the attention of my classmates. I can hear them calling as I sprint away.

‘There’s Miffy!’

‘Run!’

‘Go, Miffy!’

‘She’s right behind you!’

‘Watch out for that rock!’

I dare not turn around, putting all my energy into navigating what’s in front of me. I sidestep the rock and tear into clear space. Pure adrenaline pumps through my veins.

Miss Frost is close behind. I can hear her footsteps, light and fast. Carrot will be no match for her, so I have to hold her off for as long as possible.

I leap over low-lying ferns and push towards the thick forest. I may be able to lose her there.

Miss Frost surges to the right and angles me away from the trees. She starts herding me back to the river where it’s more open.

A thin tree looms. I leap towards it and grab the smooth trunk with my hands. I spin sideways and shoot out at ninety degrees to the right. Miss Frost nearly slips over trying to turn with me. I gain precious seconds and beat her to the forest.

I zigzag between the trees at top speed. If I can get far enough into the forest, Miss Frost will lose visual and she’ll have to rely on her tracker.

I remember the yellow flowers and keep my eyes peeled.

I skirt along the edge of a small gully and cut deeper into the trees. The terrain is becoming rough and there are fallen logs everywhere.

The whoosh and crunch of trampled foliage behind me is getting louder. I dare a backward glance and I’m shocked at how close Miss Frost is. She eases into the picture, her grey-blue eyes burning holes in mine.

My glance is costly. I trip on a rock and tumble forward, rolling head over heels and crashing to a complete stop.

Miss Frost slows to a halt. She stands over me and gloats. ‘Is that all you’ve got, Minnie?’

‘No!’ I cry, and I dive between her legs, rolling out the other side. I’m up and sprinting away before she has time to blink.

Miss Frost is gaining again. I lead her further into the forest, desperately trying to lose her among the trees.

There’s no sign of any yellow flowers. No blue feathers. I muster my reserve energy and push for a second wind. Coach Wyatt would be yelling at me to keep going.

Miss Frost is getting closer and closer. I can hear her breathing behind me. An icy wind touches my neck.

A fallen log blocks my path. I have a sudden flashback to my failed hurdles race. I remember Coach Wyatt screaming at me to raise my front leg. I remember the sting of falling. I remember the stab of pain in my elbow.

I grit my teeth and run full steam at the log. I can’t help but think of the wink Mr Bambuckle gave me when Miss Frost was explaining the challenge. Did he know this moment was coming? I launch towards the log and clear it with my leading foot. My back toe brushes the bark, but I’ve made it!

There are more fallen tree trunks ahead and I run at them with renewed confidence. I time my leaps and raise my front leg high enough to clear each one with perfection.

Miss Frost stumbles at the logs and loses ground. It buys me enough time to loop around and start heading back towards the main camp site.

My muscles are beginning to burn but I push on as hard as I can. I think of Scarlett and whatever awful punishment Miss Frost has planned. I can’t let her catch me. I have to hold her off to give Carrot the best chance of winning.

11.51.

I tear between the trees, dodging low branches and bounding over rocks and shrubs. My legs power on their reserve energy, pumping, working, running.

Miss Frost has regained some lost ground and there is a real urgency in her steps. She’s breathing heavily now and I know she means business.

The camp site comes into view and I race towards it. My classmates have spotted me again and voice their support.

‘Keep going, Miffy!’

‘You can do it!’

‘She’s getting closer!’

11.53.

I turn towards the river.

‘Noooooooo!’

The cries from camp tell me I am tagged before I feel Miss Frost’s hand on my shoulder. I collapse to the ground, out of breath, out of hope and out of the game.

Miss Frost is panting. ‘Quick, give me your band.’ She examines the tracking device. ‘Only one signal left.’

It’s 11.54 when I pass my band to Miss Frost. She hastily pockets it and is off in a flash.

I want to sob for Carrot, though there’s no air in my lungs even for that. I am spent both physically and emotionally.

Sammy runs over and helps me up. ‘You did everything you could, Miffy,’ he says. ‘It’s okay … Carrot’s still in the game.’ His words are kind, though I can sense in his voice he knows our classmate will be caught.

He walks me back to camp and I crumple in a heap.

Mr Bambuckle hands me a cup of water. ‘You did a terrific thing, dear Miffy.’

‘But I got caught,’ I say, taking the cup. ‘I lost.’

The teacher’s smile is understanding and optimistic. ‘Far from it … You’d be surprised what an athlete like yourself is capable of.’

‘What do you mean?’ I say.

Mr Bambuckle looks at me intently. ‘Dearest Miffy, I don’t know anyone else who could have bought Carrot the time you did.’

‘But she’s too fast,’ I say. ‘Carrot doesn’t stand a chance.’

‘Quite the opposite! If my calculations are correct – and I had dear Albert double-check this – Miss Frost will be returning with the victorious Carrot just about … now!’

I turn to see my orange-haired classmate step into the camp site, accompanied by Miss Frost. His face is beaming. I haven’t seen him smile like this since the drone race. ‘We won!’ he says. ‘Scarlett is safe from punishment.’ He points to his GPS band which reads 12.03.

Carrot is swamped by my classmates. They lift him onto their shoulders and shout in celebration.

Sammy high-fives Carrot. ‘You of all people. Amazing. How did you do it?’

Carrot’s hair glows. ‘I dunno. Just a bit of luck, I suppose. Though I nearly got caught. Miss Frost was charging at me earlier in the game and Slugger, who happened to be with me, pushed me into the safety of a small ravine. I wasn’t tagged and it was the perfect hiding place, so I stayed there. By the time I was tracked down it was too late.’

Miss Frost sizes up Scarlett with a terrifying stare and marches away to her car.

‘You, dear Miffy,’ says Mr Bambuckle, ‘are an asset to any team, be it club or state level.’ He pats me on the shoulder. ‘I’m most certain Coach Wyatt will be thrilled to receive the footage of your bush hurdling.’

Dodger flutters over and drops a tiny camera into my lap.

‘He filmed the whole thing,’ says Mr Bambuckle. ‘Your coach will be most impressed.’

The blue jay’s plumes remind me of something. I take the feathers out of my headband and pass them to Mr Bambuckle. ‘These are Dodger’s, aren’t they?’ I say.

Mr Bambuckle’s green eyes flash with cheekiness. ‘Ah, yes. I see Peter’s and Dodger’s hard work paid off. I had them leave little trails for you here and there. Dodger used his feathers to map important places around the camp site, and Peter set out the flowers last night.’

‘What were they for?’ I ask. ‘Why did the flowers lead to Dodger’s feathers?’

‘GPS black spots, of course,’ says Mr Bambuckle. ‘Dodger selected this camp site especially for it. He marked out safe havens where you couldn’t be tracked.’

Harold is in awe. ‘The GPS dreadlocks …’

Mr Bambuckle grins. ‘Just between you and me,’ he says, ‘Miss Frost should know all too well that technology can be a curious thing.’