The Hunt

25. Everly

25

Everly

The rumble of my empty stomach was impossible to ignore, and I wasn’t the only one feeling it. Nathan kept rubbing at his abdomen, wincing, while Chiara pressed her lips together, her face pale and drawn. Craig, on the other hand, was fidgeting, his gaze darting around the trees like he expected something—or someone—to jump out at any second.

We hadn’t spoken much in the hour since we left the underground safe zone, the quiet weighed down by the tension of our dwindling supplies and constant fear. The rations I’d shared from my pack had been enough to keep us moving, but not enough to make us feel human again. We were totally out of water, too.

“Are you okay?” Chiara asked, gently nudging me.

“I’m just hungry,” I murmured back. “Hopefully the next safe zone has food.”

“No, I meant… you’re bleeding.” She motioned to my neck. “Right there.”

I brought my hand up to touch my throat. The small nick Rhett’s blade made earlier had started bleeding again, worse than before. I must’ve absentmindedly scratched the tiny, newly-forming scab as I walked, not even registering the faint sting.

“Oh,” I murmured, my thoughts instantly catapulting me right back to those moments with Rhett. “I guess a branch got me.”

The memory of his knife against my skin sent a shiver down my spine, and I clenched my jaw, trying to push it away. I still didn’t understand what happened back there. Why did he let me go? Why didn’t he kill me when he had the chance? Even when I was literally begging for him to do it during a momentary lapse in sanity.

More importantly… why couldn’t I stop thinking about him? He scared the living shit out of me—he could’ve slashed my throat right there outside that cabin—but there was something else too. Something I could barely admit, even to myself. The way his touch lingered on my skin, the dark intensity in his eyes, the heat that simmered beneath all that fear...

God, I hated Rhett for making me feel this way. And yet, some small, traitorous part of me still wondered if he was out there in the fog, watching me. Waiting for another chance to claim me as his prey.

I clenched my fists, shoving the thought aside. I didn’t have time for this. For him . I needed to find the next safe zone, get some sustenance, and then try my best to find the tunnel entrance in the west. That mattered a hell of a lot more than the torturous ache between my legs; the one that silently begged for more of Rhett’s tongue, fingers, and cock.

Chiara frowned. For a second, I thought she didn’t believe me about the branch scratching my neck, but then she tilted her head. “Stop,” she whispered. She pointed to a nearby tree. “Do you see that?”

We all turned to look. Etched into the bark was a crudely drawn arrow, its lines deep and deliberate. It pointed to the northwest.

“Remember what they said at the start?” Chiara went on. “Some safe zones and supply caches aren’t announced. They’re marked with certain symbols instead.”

Nathan squinted, stepping closer. “You think it’s one of those?”

“What else would it be?”

Craig perked up, his exhaustion giving way to the faintest spark of hope. “Should we check it out?”

“We can have a look, but we should be careful. Some of the so-called safe zones are fake-out traps, remember?” I said.

Craig was already moving, following the direction of the arrow. “Well, we can’t starve. I’m checking it out.”

The rest of us moved cautiously behind him until we reached a clearing. A pile of cardboard boxes sat in the center of it—some small, some medium, some large.

“There,” Craig said excitedly. “That could be food! Or even weapons!”

He took a step forward, but I grabbed his arm, stopping him in his tracks.

“Don’t go yet,” I said, my voice low but firm. I lifted the binoculars my former group had found in the cave several hours ago. “Let’s stay back and check out the trees around the clearing first.”

Craig scowled at me, shaking my hand off. “Why?”

“Are you serious?” Chiara said scornfully. “We need to make sure no one’s waiting to shoot us the second we walk into the clearing.”

“Exactly.” I nodded firmly. “I’ve seen enough traps to be suspicious of everything now.”

“Fine,” Craig muttered, waving at the binoculars. “Go ahead. Do your little trick.”

I pursed my lips, not appreciating the condescension from him, especially after I’d given him the last of my food supplies and guided him to a safe zone earlier. I didn’t want to argue with him, though, because I simply didn’t have the energy, so I stayed silent and lifted the binoculars to scan the trees beyond the clearing.

“See anything?” Chiara asked, voice tinged with anxiety.

“No.”

Craig huffed. “Great. Let’s go.”

I lifted a hand. “Wait. I still think we should figure out some sort of strategy to—”

He cut me off. “Look, Everly, we’re all hungry, and we’ve only got an hour or two before it gets dark, which will make it ten times harder to find caches,” he snapped. “I’m not just gonna stand here and starve because you’re scared of traps.”

Before I could respond, he stepped forward again. Every muscle in my body tensed as I watched him approach the boxes, the clearing unnervingly quiet except for the sound of his footsteps.

He crouched and tore open a small box on the edge of the massive pile. A grin broke out on his face as he pulled out a handful of chocolate bars. “Told you so!” he said, looking over at the rest of us.

He tossed a bar toward Chiara, who caught it mid-air as she headed into the clearing. Nathan followed her and stooped to open a bigger box, revealing packets of muesli bars, chips, and cookies. The third box was even better—a giant case of bottled water. Exactly what we needed.

“It’s like Christmas morning,” Nathan said, tearing one of the cookie packets open. “Get over here, Everly.”

I reluctantly stepped into the clearing to join them, and Chiara smiled at me. “I guess we got lucky this time, huh?”

“Yeah, we did,” I said, grabbing a chocolate bar. “But still, it’s an open area, so I think we should pack as much as we can in our bags and then get the hell out of here.”

Thankfully, no one argued with me on that point.

As we quietly stuffed our backpacks with food and water, the gnawing tension in my chest eased slightly. This cache discovery was a small victory, but a victory nonetheless. Our new supply of food and water would be enough to last us all the way to the tunnel entrance, if and when I found it.

Nathan eyed one of the large unopened boxes on the far edge of the pile, lips twisting in contemplation. “There could be weapons in that one,” he mused. “It’s definitely big enough.”

“I doubt they’d give us weapons,” Chiara said through a mouthful of chips. “It’s probably just more food.”

“Yeah, and we’ve already got enough,” I said, gesturing to our bulging backpacks. “Just leave it for the other players. They might be hungry too.”

Nathan ignored us and tore the tape off the top. “I’m pretty sure it—”

His words cut off abruptly as a hiss erupted from the box, and thick, gray smoke began pouring out. It spread rapidly, curling around our feet and rising higher, veiling the world in a nearly-opaque fog.

“Shit!” Nathan stumbled back, coughing. “What the fuck is this?”

“We need to go!” I said, heart hammering in my chest.

The smoke thickened, clinging to my clothes, to my skin, until I could barely see an arm’s length in front of me.

Panic set in. Visibility was dropping by the second. My sense of direction faltered, and every rustle of leaves or snap of a twig sounded like it was coming from everywhere at once.

“Which way do we go?” Chiara’s voice was edged with terror, but I couldn’t tell where it was coming from.

My pulse pounded in my ears as I whirled around, trying to figure out which way was which. Then, through the veil of smoke, I heard something else. Footsteps. Heavy and deliberate, drawing closer.

My stomach plummeted.

“Run!” I screamed. “There’s a hunter here!”

Suddenly a shadow loomed in the smoke, impossibly tall and broad. My breath caught in my throat as a hulking figure stepped out from the haze; a man, almost seven feet tall. A gas mask covered his face, and in his hands, he held an ax.

In one swift, horrifying motion, he swung the ax downward, and I saw Craig’s head snap forward before it was separated entirely from his body. Blood sprayed in an arc, his lifeless body collapsing to the ground.

A scream tore from my throat, raw and unrestrained, as my legs locked in terror. The man turned to his left, the ax rising again. I didn’t see the impact— couldn’t see it—but the blood that splattered through the smoky air and the gut-wrenching scream that followed were enough to tell me he’d hit Chiara.

My legs finally moved. I turned and bolted, lungs burning, the sting of smoke blurring my vision as tears streamed down my face. I didn’t know where I was going, just that I had to get away.

Before I could make it more than a few yards away, big hands, strong and unyielding, grabbed me from behind. “No!” I screamed, thrashing wildly. “Let me—”

My cries were cut off as I was hoisted off my feet and thrown over a shoulder like a ragdoll. I pounded my fists against the hard back beneath me, screaming and sobbing until I heard a familiar voice.

Rhett.

“It’s okay, Everly. It’s not real,” he murmured, his hand rubbing slow, deliberate circles on my back as he carried me away. “You’re just dreaming. It’s not real.”

I froze, my sobs catching in my throat. Those words. That soothing, steady cadence. I knew it from somewhere.

Memories flickered in my mind like fragments of an old movie reel. A boy, hands gripping me tightly as he carried me through the dark woods to the safety of Wildercliff Manor. His soft voice muttering those very same words, calming me after our little group wandered into that awful murder ritual in the clearing. His intense yet kind gaze as he took me back upstairs, tucked me into bed, and told me stories until I finally fell asleep.

Rhett. That was the boy’s name.

“It was you,” I choked out, my voice barely audible. My tears came harder now, but for an entirely different reason. “It’s always been you.”

Rhett didn’t respond. He just kept walking, his grip on me firm but careful, like he was afraid I’d break. The screams and chaos from the clearing faded into the distance, replaced only by the sound of his steady breathing and my trembling sobs.

As Rhett’s hand continued to rub my back in those slow, steady circles, a warmth began to spread through my chest. My body was still shaking, but something deeper—something primal and unshakable—was settling in too.

Against all logic, against all reason, I felt… safe.

How could I? How could I possibly feel safe in the arms of the man who’d constantly scared the shit out of me, hunted me, and held a knife to my throat? It didn’t make sense. And yet, the memory of that boy, the one who’d whispered to me in the dark all those years ago, overlapped with the man carrying me now.

Rhett had always taken care of me, even when we were kids and barely knew each other. Didn’t even like each other, really. But he’d done it anyway.

The realization that he’d known who I was all along shouldn’t have calmed me. It should’ve confused me, or even enraged me, but my body betrayed me anyway, leaning into him as if it knew something my mind refused to accept. I clung to that tiny flicker of trust, to the feeling of his strong arms steadying me.

Everything faded into a blur as exhaustion suddenly hit me like a tidal wave. My body went limp, and the last thing I felt before the darkness swallowed me whole was Rhett’s arms tightening around me, cradling me closer.