I reach forward to tug Blair’s mask back down to cover her face. When it’s covered, she slips into the darkness.
Unbeknownst to her, she takes my heart with her.
Chapter 20
Blair
Iknow, with every fiber of my being, that playing Santi’s game is a bad idea.
My presence should be inconspicuous—that’s how lying low works. If we get caught, I’m more than drawing attention to myself—I’ll have pretty much hammered the last nail into my coffin. Not even jail would stop a hitman from taking me out.
Yet, as the back door of the cabin bursts open and an older man in his fifties scrambles out screaming at the top of his lungs before taking off into the woods, I can’t help but grin as anticipation courses through my veins.
It’s a ghastly game, but I can see its appeal as I watch the man merge into the darkness, calling out for help. Killing the bad guys that the law won’t condemn is totally justifiable in my book. A little jail time or community service isn’t enough for people who go after children.Thisis way more appropriate of a fate for pedophiles.
Santi steps out a few seconds later, laughing softly behind his black mask. I can feel the energy crackling around him.His excitement has him shifting restlessly from foot to foot. It’s contagious. I can feel the tension winding up in my body and my heart begins to race. When was the last time I had some friendly competition?
“Okay, so what are the rules?” I ask him. “Or are there any?”
He looks down at me, almost startled by the sound of my voice as if he’s forgotten I was there.
“Yes! Rules, right,” he says quickly. “There’s only one, really. You have to let them run for thirty seconds. From there, their screams can’t really be picked up by anyone despite how sound carries around here. Other than that, anything goes. Whoever kills the victim first, wins.”
“I’m assuming we’re only allowed to use the axe? No guns?”
The one in my holster is ready to go so if I could use that?—
Santi snickers. “No guns.”
I nod. “Okay, I’ll stick with my axe. Correct me if I’m wrong, though, but aren’t there smaller ones? Like, ones that you can throw? Maybe we should invest in some of those?”
Santi’s head tips back and laughs. “Iknewyou’d make this more fun!”
“I’ll have to practice,” I consider out loud, knowing that using an unfamiliar weapon could be more dangerous to me than any potential victim.
“Then we’ll make targets back at the house. I want to try them too now that you mention it.”
Santi is practically tripping over his words as he edges toward the woods.
Clearly it’s time to play.
“Alright,” he says, his eyes locked onto the darkness ahead. “Are you ready to?—”
I don’t wait to let him finish. I’m much too competitive for that. I take off on light feet, heading in the direction our prey had taken.
“CHEATER!” He yells after me.
My laughter doesn’t carry far with the mask on but I’m sure he hears it just the same. Just as I can hear the sound of his footsteps crashing after me.
Up ahead, our victim is screaming for help. Maybe he’s banking on another house being close. I don’t know the area, or the landscape, very well but Santi does so if he says that any screams won’t be heard this far out, then it’s probably a safe bet we’re not going to run into anyone else.
I consider heading straight for our prey. Already I can see movement in the darkness up ahead, letting me know he hasn’t gotten too far despite the head start we’d given him. The direct approach is obviously Santi’s plan. I can hear him as he barrels after me, closing the distance between us.
That seems a bit boring.
If I’m going to commit to this monstrosity, I should at least allow myself to enjoy the moment, right? My mind races as I consider my strategy. I don’t know the area but I do know a lot about human habits. I’ve studied them all my life. First with Dad, who would watch his target for sometimes weeks on end. Then, at school, where I imitated the other students’ behaviors as I tried to assimilate after years of hardly any contact with anyone my age.
The ground beneath my feet is beginning to slope up in an incline. Up ahead, I can tell that it gets sharper. If I was being hunted and was an out of shape asshole, I’d probably try to find the easiest route to escape. That would mean shifting direction so that I was running downhill rather than up. I glance sideways just as Santi shoots by.
