Driven by an urgent need to reach safety, she ran without a plan. No idea where she was or what lay ahead.
Her heel caught again, and the world tilted. Gravel rushed toward her, and she thrust her hands out to protect her face. The shock of impact traveled up her wrists, into her shoulders as the wind knocked out of her lungs. The adrenaline pounding through her veins was a sharp anesthetic to the impact of pain.
Her palms, scraped from the wet stone, pushed her back up. Scrambling to her feet, tasting copper, she ran as fast as her legs could manage toward the trees.
Pain. The warm trickle of blood mixing with saliva. The fire in her lungs. None of it mattered. Her arms pumped harder. Relentless. Every breath plunging a white-hot poker down her throat.
Escape was her only thought.
The night flushed into a kaleidoscope of chaos. Masks glinted in torchlight. A constellation of predatory stars crashed like waves into the earth, taking down tributes like lions tackling prey.
Screams and grunts. The collision of soft bodies plowing into hard ground.
Wide eyes gleamed in terror as tributes dispersed into the night like spilled marbles, scattering, tumbling, smashing into objects, and falling into cracks.
A tribute in seafoam chiffon darted past Daisy and collided with a stone urn. That was all it took for a hunter to lunge.
The bell thundered again—a single gong—marking the first conquer. It was actually happening. The vapor of a surreal dream shifted into solid mass, and it was going to crush them all.
“Fuck!” A grunt of pain was swallowed by the fog.
Another tribute rushed by in a flash of crimson, Trisha, maybe. It was impossible to tell. She already vanished into the hedgerow.
How were they moving so fast?
The shoes.
Daisy looked back, but there wasn’t time. The hunters were everywhere. Relentless in their hungry pursuit. Spurred by the chase.
Bare feet slapped the earth as another tribute rushed by.
“There’s one! The blonde!”
Daisy shifted directions, lunging for the closest shadowy cover.
The gardens received her like a closing mouth. Branches scraped like teeth, caging her in obscuring darkness. She panted, scanning the momentary shelter for holes that left her vulnerable. Hedges rose on either side, their leaves slick with moisture, shining silver in the moonlight.
She massaged a sharp cramp under her ribs, her panicked mind scrambling for a plan.
Torches flickered in the distance, thousands of trembling specks on an endless terrain.
Breath beat out of her like a saw carving through wood. Hide or keep moving? Neither could guarantee her safety. Where was the grotto? How far east? She had yet to see a green lantern.
Hide.
She waited for the voices to fade into the distance. Bells rang every few minutes, usually after a collision that ended with a scream.
Another bell. Then another. They came in drips that started to trickle, and then the rush slowed, replaced by the smack of bodies meeting.
Cries of passion pealed into the night from unseen shadows. The shrubs concealed views but did little to muffle the moans.
As soon as Daisy’s breathing slowed and her lungs cooled, she started to move—cautiously and quietly as a garden snake slithering through the dark.
The air turned thick and sweet as she passed beneath an archway of climbing roses. Their cloying perfume masked the tinge of sweat that randomly tinged the briny air.
The terrain shifted, and she rolled her ankle, covering her mouth before a squeak of pain could escape. She shut her eyes and winced, swallowing down a howl.
Ridiculous shoes.
