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.
This is 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. “I knew you’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.
“Hey!” I snap as he nearly shoulder-checks me in the process.
“All is fair in war!” he calls over his shoulder.
Well in that case… I slow and veer off to the right.
I duck under branches and jump over bushes as I run through the dark woods.
Carrying the axe in my hand slows me down a bit.
I’m not used to running with the weight of a weapon like this.
Still, I grip it tightly as I run, determined to not let it hinder me.
My bet pays off a few minutes later.
I can hear the crashing of feet and the huffing and puffing of someone out of breath coming from my left.
I slow to search for my prey. I catch sight of him as he stumbles, pitching forward and falling on his stomach.
I start toward him, but pause as another idea forms. As he gets to his feet and calls for help, I pull off my mask and tuck it under my shirt.
“Here!” I call out, responding to his plea. “Where are you? Let me help you!”
Like a drowning man catching sight of a lifeline, he shifts course and heads toward the sound of my voice.
“Help me, please! There’s someone after me!” He calls back.
Just as I burst out of the brush I remember to control my expression. Rather than eager and grinning ear to ear, I quickly don a concerned expression and rush toward the man, the axe behind my back. His hands are outstretched in front of him, as if ready to grab me.
“We have to go! Run!” he says. He takes me by my shoulders and looks over his, to scan the darkness. “There’s someone with an axe chasing me. They’re somewhere behind me!”
“What? Are you serious?” I play into the moment for a second longer, twisting my voice to sound just as anxious as he is. “Are you sure?”
“Yes! Yes! He’s right on my heels, we have to go!” He urges as he tries to push me in the direction he’d been running. “Do you have a phone? I don’t have any service. We have to call nine-one-one.”
I shake my head slowly, my smile slipping free as the thrill of victory sweeps through me.
“I think you’re wrong, sir. I think the masked individual is right in front of you,” I tell him, my voice sweetening with faux innocence.
The man freezes, his hands dropping away from my shoulder. “W-what?”
Before I can respond, Santi emerges from the darkness with his axe raised over his head.
Oh shit.
Thinking quickly, I knee the man in his groin.
My prey bends at the waist with a hard oomph.
Off balance and out of breath, it’s easier to shove him to the side—which I do, just as Santi’s axe comes whipping down.
Our prey topples to the side and I side-step out of the way as Santi gasps in surprise and nearly collides into me as he tries to slow down.
I help him to the ground, using his momentum to my advantage as I grab the back of his shirt and practically throw him away from the older man.
Santi’s yelp of surprise explodes into a peel of laughter. I smile as I swoop down for my axe that I dropped. Our prey is already on his feet, stumbling away from the both of us. His hand is tucked between his legs as he cradles his bruised genitals, a groan slipping past his lips.
He spares me a panicked glance before taking off.
I grin, ready to win. With a hoot of delight, I give chase.
The man wails as he tries to run on unsteady feet.
He knows he’s about to die. That only excites me further.
I swing my axe, not taking into account the weight, and I miss him by a hair.
With a grunt, I stumble a bit before regaining my balance.
Just as I’m about to start off again, Santi’s axe goes flying. It lands right in the middle of our victim’s back.
I gape in disbelief. I’m sure my expression mirrors the shock on our prey’s face but I wouldn’t know because he’s not facing us.
He staggers, weakly reaching back for the weapon protruding from his body.
His hands never get there. His knees give out and when they hit the ground, the rest of his body falls forward.
“What the hell!” I demand, dropping my axe to throw my hands up in frustration. Shoving up my mask so he can see my glare, I tell him, “I was so going to win if you hadn’t done that.”
“Yeah, I know,” Santi says with a chuckle as he saunters up next to me. “That’s why I did it.”
“Oh, so you’re one of those people.”
Santi’s arms cross over his chest. “What does that mean?”
“You’re a cheater.”
Santi pushes up his mask so it sits on top of his head so I can see the incredulous outrage in his expression.
“I’m a cheater? Who took off before I could count down from three?!”
I point at him. “You said nothing about a countdown, how was I supposed to know one was coming?”
“Well—” He scrambles for another excuse. “You threw him out of the way—you can’t just throw people, Blair! I was going to win right then and there if you hadn’t done that!”
“You only said there was one rule and that was to give the prey a thirty second head start. I didn’t know I wasn’t supposed to touch him!”
Santi shrugs, a smug smile spreading across his face. “I also never said you couldn’t throw a weapon so what I did wasn’t cheating.”
“We can agree to disagree,” I object. “Throwing a weapon should only be used if the weapon was meant to be thrown.”
“We’ll confer with Rhett about that.”
I roll my eyes. “Alright, fine. This is clearly a draw until we can—”
“What?! Absolutely not!” Santi objects, affronted. Pointing to himself, he declares, “I’m the winner tonight.”