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One of the figures catches him by the shoulder.
“No, please. I’m not done. I can still—”
The shot cracks through the trees, dropping him beside the pine and stealing the breath from my lungs. The second figure unrolls a length of gray plastic and shakes it flat beside him.
Turning away, I force myself to keep walking, putting as much distance between us as I can. Behind me, the voice thanks another candidate. That’s three announcements in less than ten minutes.
The forest is losing color as the light fades. I stay off the obvious trail, watching the ground for fresh footprints and snapped branches, listening whenever voices carry through the trees.
Twice, I hear people nearby. The first group passes without seeing me. The second group does.
Two candidates are in a hollow below me. One holds a knife. The other is backed against a tree.
“Please,” the man against the trunk sobs. “Take the pack. Take all of it.”
The one holding the knife is crying too. “I’m sorry.”
“Then don’t fucking do it.”
“I can’t.”
“Yes, you can.”
His grip tightens around the knife. “And if I let you go? What happens when you find me later?”
“I won’t do anything. I swear.”
“I don’t fucking know you.”
“Please.”
“I can’t trust you.”
The man against the tree starts begging again.
I back away before I see what happens.
Behind me, his begging stops.
I stay crouched in the brush until my legs remember how to move. Only then do I get back to my feet and jog away from the hollow.
A click snaps behind me, freezing me mid-step. For a second, nothing moves. Then I turn my head.
A girl sits between two trees, a gun aimed straight at my chest. My hand starts toward my knife, but I stop halfway when her finger tightens on the trigger.
“Keep walking.”
She’s on the ground at the base of a rocky slope, one boot off and her pack pulled against her side. She looks about twenty, small and wiry, with dark hair braided tightly to her head. Her face has gone gray with pain.
“Your ankle.” The words are out before I decide to speak. “It’s swelling. You can’t walk on that.”
She shifts and hisses through her teeth. “What’s it to you?”
“Nothing. Night’s coming.”
“Then fuck off.”
I should. I’ve already watched one candidate die and heard another beg for his life. I know exactly what helping strangers out here can cost me.
