Total pages in book: 154
Estimated words: 153544 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 768(@200wpm)___ 614(@250wpm)___ 512(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 153544 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 768(@200wpm)___ 614(@250wpm)___ 512(@300wpm)
I whip my head to the side, but don’t see anything. When I pull the arrow out, I see that it’s a real one, not the rubber ones Gareth is using for the hunt.
Well, well. Looks like my older brother might be in the mood to kill me.
That is, if he’s the one who shot this, which I doubt—he’s too cowardly for such a daring move.
I break the broadhead off the arrow and slip it in my pocket to investigate it later—that is, if whoever aimed this at me doesn’t come back for a redo.
My steps are measured with the sole purpose of finding the little rabbit. Murder attempts can wait.
Jeremy and I meet as we’re running in different directions and we butcher about six participants combined.
Then I catch a glimpse of Gareth walking with one of the participants, shooting anyone who crosses their path.
He doesn’t even attempt to eliminate that participant. If anything, it’s like he’s…protecting them.
No, escorting them.
Hmm. I wonder who got my brother’s attention to that extent?
I shelf that for later and continue my hunt.
For some reason, I can feel the stray rabbit escaping in the area parallel to me.
So I follow my instincts and go deeper into the forest. It’s a more difficult path, but those who believe longer and safer is better than shorter and dangerous would definitely come in this direction.
I carefully follow the footsteps, my vision getting sharper with every passing second.
My feet come to a slow halt between three trees. The sneakers have made a circle here, but unlike those amateurs from earlier, this one obviously doesn’t know I follow steps, so they didn’t attempt to hide them.
On and on, they went in circles and then…
I stare at the path ahead. The most logical explanation is that they jumped on the rock in front of me and chose the bushes.
I stride to that direction as I smirk, letting them believe I’ve fallen for their trick.
It’s time to skin the rabbit alive.
16
GLYNDON
Ever since the stupid initiation started, I’ve been feeling like Alice in Wonderland.
The amount of fuckery I witnessed in my attempts to keep a low profile is astounding.
I’ve wondered this before, but now, I’m sure.
The members of the Heathens are batshit crazy.
I saw the one in the neon yellow mask single-handedly beat like ten people to a pulp, with no weapon, then he laughed derangedly if anyone attempted to hit him.
Then, someone dressed all in black, including his mask, tilted his head at me and waved slowly, manically, and I swear I’ve never run faster in my life.
I thought that was the highest level of crazy, but I was proven wrong. As I hid behind a rock, I witnessed the white-masked one strap three people with a chain as they begged and wailed.
And then the most disturbed of the lot finished five with a baseball bat and I made the mistake of thinking running at that moment was better than staying in place to keep him from finding me.
When he threw the bat in my direction with the lethality of a sniper, I have no damn clue how I thought fast enough to use one of the unconscious students as a shield, then continue my run.
I definitely work best under pressure, dammit. Because I didn’t even focus on the burning of my muscles as I sprinted and jumped and used the amount of energy that could last me for months.
Despite my art student status, I’m actually a good runner and I love to jog, so I can at least trust myself to keep going whenever it gets to be too much.
Just how the hell did the dainty Devlin make it in this jungle? Though it probably wasn't a full-on hunting session back during the initiation he participated in.
And the worst part in all of this? No, it’s not the screams, the wails, or the muffled sounds—although those still make me flinch every time. It’s not the sound of impersonalized speakers announcing the elimination of numbers.
It’s, in fact, feeling like a prey to that red fucking mask who keeps trailing my every move like a professional hunter. I made beelines, circles, and even went in chaotic lines, but he stayed hot on my trail every time.
My last resort was choosing a deserted rocky road that’s filled with tall trees. I could feel him close behind, so I found my current hiding place.
The tree.
I climbed it, pretending it was the treehouse back home that Landon taught me how to climb up for sport.
This pine tree is gigantic, though. It’s so tall that when I stare down, a slight acrophobia grabs hold of me.
But I rationalize that back to the fact that I’m not truly afraid of heights and this is just my anxiety taking center stage.
Inhaling deep, I wait a moment before releasing a long exhale. Red Mask follows the rocky path, probably thinking I continued on my way to the finish line.