ICY AIR BARGED IN through the open door. Hyland shoved Kate out into the biting cold. She managed a couple of unsteady steps before promptly collapsing to the ground. Her bra and panties were as useless against the frigid nighttime temperatures as they were against the rocks and branches littering the forest floor.
Hyland frowned. “You’d better get going!”
Kate looked down at her left wrist. A set of zip ties had been fastened to her so tightly the skin had welled up on either side of them. Between them, was a small black device.
Following her gaze, Hyland offered, “You won’t be able to get those off without scissors.” He looked pointedly into the forest. “And you’re not likely to find those out here.”
“Tra … tracking device?” Kate managed through the echoing sting to her nervous system.
He rolled his eyes. “No. Can’t you see the damn lens? It’s a high-resolution, night-vision-enabled camera—courtesy of our security department. It will catalog the entire hunt from start to finish. It was my idea, you know. As Mr. Cruthers said, you’re going to be the pregame show for this evening’s festivities. I decided to make it a literal show, camera and all.”
Kate’s eyes went wide. “You’re going to hunt me?”
He recoiled. “Of course, not. You will be pursued by the most revered member of our security detail. A rematch of sorts—he is more than eager to redeem himself for his failure at the lake.”
Hyland pulled out his phone as Kate struggled to get to her feet. Holding it in front of his face he activated the camera and smiled. He spoke into the device with all the fake exuberance of a reality TV show host.
“Welcome Honored Guests! The hunt will commence now. The prey will have a five-minute head start. From here on, you will be watching live feeds from both the hunter and the prey. Enjoy!”
Tapping the screen, Hyland dropped the device into his pocket. The veil of vivaciousness was discarded as easily as it had been adopted. His eyes met hers for a brief moment before he tore them away. “I advise you to run. As fast as you can.” He scurried into the doorway, pulling the door shut behind him.
She lunged after him, but she was a split second too late. The door slammed firmly in his wake. The echo set off a flurry of activity. Snapping branches and other sounds of frenzied commotion erupted from the underbrush surrounding the clearing. Luckily, all of the sounds seemed to be tracking away from Kate.
Eyes still trying to adjust to the darkness, Kate glanced about, simultaneously trying to process the reality of what was about to happen. Stabbing, shooting … all made sense, but hunting a human for entertainment?
An image flashed. Haryati’s corpse lying in the coroner’s lab. Her skin had been a patchwork of small bruises and lacerations, most of which had been incurred in this very forest. But it was the numerous traumas she had endured after being captured that had made her corpse a terror to behold.
Kate had caused The Stag far greater grief than Haryati had. Who knew what they had instructed the hunter to do to her?
Despite her best efforts, Kate’s breathing grew more and more shallow. With no shoes, no weapon, minimal light, and only a five-minute lead, there was virtually no chance she would ever make it to her car. Assuming her car was still where she had left it.
She had to think, but the last vestiges of the shots from the stun gun were still zinging through her brain. With the additional challenge that over twenty-four hours had passed since she had last had food or water, every thought felt as if it had been fitted with a fifty-pound anchor.
The image stuck in her head and stayed long enough to spark an idea. Ignoring the barrage of fatalistic thoughts peppering her mind, she dropped her head and started to run. Successful or not, it was the only idea she had. And she was running out of time.
*
Martin Cruthers swished the fresh pour of five-hundred-dollar brandy around in his glass. Still in his tracksuit, he reclined in solitude on a sofa in his chalet at Aaru. Like his fellow club members, he had just finished watching Hyland open the hunt.
As recommended by the resort manager, the impromptu pregame show was to be enjoyed individually. The communal elements of the festivities would start soon enough.
Completely unaware of the ridiculously expensive gold leaf frame into which the large, television had been mounted, he glared at the appliance, “Go, you stupid bitch!”
The same way professional football players would never hear the vehement castigations from Monday morning quarterbacks, Kate had no way of hearing Cruthers’ decree. The camera feed was one way, as was the audio.
As if intuiting his will, the camera angle slowly swung from left to right. “Trying to assess the landscape?” He wondered aloud.
He suddenly wished they had outfitted the detective with a heart monitor. It would have been so much more enjoyable to watch her heart rate climb. He took a sip, deciding it would be a good feature to add if they brought back the hunt next year.
The camera suddenly bounced to life. She had finally started running. Smiling, he sank back into the soft cushions.
If only the world knew the woman who had brought the world’s most feared serial killer to justice was now running for her life in the forest. He wondered idly if she could even feel the cold, or if the combination of adrenaline and fear had made her impervious to it.
Tearing his gaze from the pitching landscape, he zeroed in on the clock in the right-hand corner of the screen: four minutes and forty-five seconds.
As he watched, the seconds continued to tick down. Suddenly, the image on the screen split in two. The feed from Kate’s camera moved to the right. A new feed appeared on the left. An AR-15 rifle was in the process of being loaded. The calm, deliberate movements were diametrically opposed to the wild rush on the other side of the screen.
Hyland had told him the hunter would be outfitted with a helmet camera, as opposed to the wrist-mounted one, they had improvised for Kate.
He took another sip of brandy. Relishing the complex flavors in his mouth, as much as his own certainty, he rejoiced in the affirmation life was exactly as he had described to Kate earlier. Power was everything.
*
Bushes, branches, rocks, trees, branches, trees, rocks, branches. Kate’s eyes darted back and forth over the landscape as she ran, cataloging every potential obstacle and making split-second decisions to evade them when necessary.
Her heart pounded out of her chest. An image of it bursting took hold in her mind’s eye. For a split second, she wished it would.
A five-minute head start meant nothing against a trained hunter. Especially when the hunted was suffering the early stages of dehydration and starvation compounded with the added fear of hypothermia.
So far, she had done a decent job of keeping herself upright in the weak moonlight. But it had come at a cost. Caution was slowing her down.
In the next heartbeat, her world changed. Her right foot landed heavily in thick mud. Unable to find purchase, it went out from under her. Tucking her head, she tried to roll into the fall.
She hit the ground hard and slid to a stop. What felt like thousands of small cuts set her skin on fire. Screaming above each of those wounds was a searing pain across her right ankle.
The moonlight filtering through the thick tree canopy was too weak for a proper inspection. Her survival instinct kicked into gear. All that mattered was to keep moving.
Scrambling to her feet, Kate tested her weight on the ankle. Pain erupted along every one of her nerve endings, but the joint held. Bending over, her fingers probed the affected area. A nauseatingly thick roll of skin … beneath it a slippery mess. The contact prompted a whole new bout of pain as well as an added sense of despair.
Even the most inexperienced tracker would be able to follow a trail of blood. Her eyes moved to the camera on her wrist. The recollection of Martin Cruthers’ smug expression when he had bid her goodbye …
The image reached inside her soul and stabbed at her sense of indignation. Knowing the odds for survival were not in her favor, she held onto the image of the CEO. Silencing the clock counting down in her head, she dropped to her knees.
It took no more than a second to find the source of her injury. Two feet behind her, a jagged rock protruded from the mud. Digging her fingers into the terrain, she tugged with all her might. She was rewarded with a foul sucking sound. In the next moment, the rock came free. She turned it until the blunt edge faced outward.
Raising her right wrist to her face, she glared directly into the camera.
“Fuck you, assholes! The show is over.”
Kate laid her left forearm on the ground. Without the slightest hesitation, she raised the rock in her right hand and slammed it into the device. The ensuing crunch was accompanied by shockwaves of pain radiating through her right wrist.
A single ribbon of blood snaked its way around the broken bits of lens. The sight of it brought the hint of a smile to her lips.
Flexing her wrist muscles, Kate rose to her feet. Fueled by a newly found sense of dignity, she set out at a decidedly faster clip.
A few moments later she confronted a massive group of trees. On the other side of the copse, a familiar scent filled her nostrils. It was the same crisp odor she had detected during her hike to the hidden door—except it was much stronger.
A minute later, the sound of crashing waves joined the briny aroma of sea air. After two more minutes, she emerged from the forest onto a high bluff overlooking the Pacific. The full moon hung low over the ocean. Its vivid light bounced off the tumultuous waves, creating a broken kaleidoscope of bright light.
She ventured to the edge of the bluff and peered over the side. The roar of the surf was almost deafening. The success of the world’s largest ocean’s age-old campaign against the continent was evident in the dense number of craggy outcroppings in the eroded cliffs below.
Looking back over her shoulder, Kate studied the tree line. No perceivable movement, but there soon would be. Her gaze followed the trail of bloody footprints she had left. A series of thoughts occurred to her in rapid succession.
The hunter would soon be upon her.
There was nowhere to hide.
She turned back to the water. The upwelling air currents whipped her hair around her face with cruel indifference.
The decision was easier than she had thought it would be. Like destroying the camera, she would rob Cruthers and his twisted cronies of any pleasure in her demise. Most of all, she would rob them of what they most wanted—the illusion of having any power over her.
Pursing her lips, she turned around and dropped to her hands and knees. Muscles straining, she eased her legs backward over the edge.
For a moment, her limbs swung free. In the next second, the persistent updraft in air currents shifted to a downdraft. Feeling as if she were being sucked into a maelstrom, she clung closer to the bluff and began lowering herself inch by inch. Her face disappeared below the edge, as her left foot made contact with a small, slippery outcropping.
She dropped another inch. Her right foot made contact with a similar feature, albeit slightly lower than the first. The next question was whether she had the guts to test if the separate ledges would bear her weight.
The toe of a boot suddenly appeared in the space between her hands.
Time had run out.
“Well, what have we here …?” The voice was almost indiscernible above the ferocious surf.
Heart racing so fast no beat was distinguishable from another, she watched as a camera came into view. It was strapped to the top of a helmet.
There was not even time for a small prayer. In one deft movement, Kate seized hold of the boot with both hands, then dropped as if her entire body was a dead weight.
Heaving with all of her might, she dragged the boot away from the earth. Loose dirt rained down on her from above, stinging her eyes.
A split second later, the second boot appeared. Kate caught sight of an assault rifle just before the man came teetering over the edge.
Releasing her quarry, Kate threw her body flat against the jagged rocks in the cliff wall. A flailing boot connected sharply with her left thigh. The impact bounced her against the wall.
In the same moment, the downdrafts returned. It took every muscle in her core to retain her balance on the improbable perch.
The ensuing splash was almost impossible to pick out from the ongoing cacophony below. Panting, Kate reached for the lip of the cliff and started to climb.
Her head had cleared the edge for a quick glimpse of the tree line when the last of her reserves gave way. Arm muscles trembling, she began to sink slowly back down. If she did not have the strength to climb out, she certainly did not have the strength to cling to the improvised perch.
The darkness pulled at her, whispering it was finally time to let go.
Tears pouring out the sides of her eyes, she thought once more of Martin Cruthers’ smug visage. Hatred for everything the group stood for, and every victim it had claimed, flooded her veins.
“Son of a … fucking … bitch!” The scream tore through her throat with animal rawness. With it came the last bit of adrenalin. It was all she needed. Her head rose above the bluff once more. It was followed by her chest and then her waist.
She kicked her right leg up over the edge, letting momentum carry her forward. Rolling onto her back, she panted for air, grateful for the feel of the small loose rocks biting into her flesh. When her breathing finally slowed, she rolled back to the edge and peered over.
The waters raged below. There was no sign of human life.
There was also no way of knowing how much those watching had seen on the camera feed from the hunter’s helmet. At the very least, they would send someone to check it out.
She was on her feet in the next moment doing exactly what she hoped they would not expect. Rather than running from the steel door, she made a beeline straight back to it.
Approaching the edge of the clearing minutes later, she crouched down and started skirting the perimeter. It was paramount she avoid the mistake she had made during her earlier arrival. Having watched Delford’s video so many times, it was easy enough to follow the route he had taken to stay out of the view of the cameras.
When she reached the hill on the far-right side of the entrance, she clambered up to the top in less than a minute. Not pausing to catch her breath, she began picking her way down over the rocks toward the top of the entrance.
Nearing the bottom, she slipped into a gap between the two boulders which formed a natural lintel over the doorway. Wedged between the stones, she waited for the sound she had most wanted to hear.
The door opened and two men emerged. Clad in Kevlar vests and toting AR-15 rifles, they headed directly toward the sea. Kate waited until they had reached the far end of the clearing before climbing out of her hiding spot.
She had traversed over forty percent of the distance to the ground when her left hand slid at light speed across a thick patch of mud trapped between two smaller rocks. Blood roaring in her ears, she teetered back and forth before regaining her balance. Kate dropped to her rear end to wipe the wet dirt from her skin but stopped herself in mid-movement.
Staring at the slick substance smeared across her hand, Kate reached back and scooped out a handful of the wet dirt. She briskly made her way around to each of the cameras. In less than a minute she had thoroughly obscured the lenses of each device. A minute later, she was back on the ground standing before the entrance.
The odds she had been running in her head ever since taking off from the cliff proved to be in her favor. Expecting the men to return soon, no one had bothered to lock the door.
*
Hyland Fairbourne emerged from the tunnel with the weight of the world on his shoulders. Things were not proceeding the way he had planned.
He closed the door behind him, waiting to hear it lock before continuing. Unlike the entry Kate had stumbled upon, this entrance consisted of a pair of doors set into the forest floor.
The route had been excavated by an international team who had been flown in to construct the ceremonial chamber. It ran underground for a full mile before emerging into the open area which served as a mini-parking lot. Martin Cruthers had spearheaded much of the design. For Hyland, it was nothing but a maintenance nightmare.
He hurried past the row of electric vehicles parked along the perimeter of the path. With the pregame show ending early, the guests had abandoned their plush accommodations at Aaru for the unique venue.
The destruction of the Barnes woman’s camera had created the first wrinkle in the show. Luckily, the remaining feed from the hunter’s camera had more than made up for it. Knowing her pathetic attempt at rebellion was about to be brutally eliminated had made the show more engrossing than expected.
Unfortunately, the hunter’s feed had gone dead right when he discovered Kate’s attempted hiding place. Hyland had been forced to cut into the live stream, broadcasting a lie that would hopefully buy him enough time to figure out what the hell had gone wrong.
He had told his guests the camera signal had been dropped—a minor technical glitch. Hyland had offered his sincerest apologies, promising the hunter would record Kate’s execution in detail, but they would have to wait until he returned and manually uploaded the file from his camera.
This was his second year hosting Oceana Week. He had never inquired into the details of what exactly had transpired last year, and other than fulfilling those logistical requests related to the year’s events, he expected to know as little by tomorrow morning. If they kept to the same schedule as last year, the guests would not be returning to Aaru until the near dawn hours. They would then sleep for the rest of the day, giving him time to dispose of the girls. After Delford’s failure, the grisly duty had fallen to Hyland.
Tomorrow’s responsibilities could wait. Tonight, he had to figure out what the hell had happened in those final moments of Kate Barnes’ life. The need to know had grown in the pit of his stomach ever since the second feed went dead. Whatever had gone wrong, it must have been more than a minor glitch. The hunter had not responded to any of his numerous radio calls.
Hyland’s next call had been to his technology specialist. Known as one of the top technical experts in Europe, Hyland had every reason to trust his word that the radio signals, cell phone jamming, systems and secured Wi-Fi transmission were all operating perfectly. If the hunter was not communicating, there had to be some other reason.
Arriving at his vehicle, he climbed in and started the engine. He was halfway back to Aaru when his cell phone began to ring.
The noise sent his temper soaring. The only sound he had wanted to hear was from his radio. The two security operatives he had dispatched had left the caves over ten minutes ago. Neither had reported in yet.
Glancing at the screen, Hyland felt as if the world were suddenly spinning out of control. The simple text from his IT specialist added a new host of fears to those already rending his abdomen.
Cameras at Entrance 2 have been compromised.
For the first time since accepting his position at Aaru, Hyland’s cocksure opinion of himself began to falter. Snarling into the darkness, he vowed to make as many people pay for the moment of uncertainty as possible.