19
The clue is interesting in two ways.
Firstly, it’s an oversized jigsaw puzzle piece about the size of my hand with clear instructions on one side that we must leave it on the mountain. Secondly, it contains part of a riddle.
I pause just inside the treeline to consider the clue and my strategy. I’ve watched enough seasons to know that what’s written on the clues is just as important as what’s not written. And the Viscount had said it would hold tips on reaching the top of the mountain.
Turning it over and over I ponder the series of small holes in the piece before holding it up to the sky. It’s virtually a compass. The holes line up with stars.
‘But this doesn’t fucking help me get to the top.’
I tip the backpack upside down, making sure I haven’t missed anything. As I do this I notice the stitching on the bag. It’s uneven, doesn’t seem to follow logical lines.
“A map!” I whisper. “Sneaky, sneaky, bastards.”
Holding the bag high to try and get a little illumination from the moon, I can see that the map is fairly straightforward; a few promontories and some landmark vegetation seem to have been marked.
The forest, like most around this part of Denver, is made up of a type of Chinkapin oak, hackberry trees and mature cottonwoods.
The latter were the tallest and marked most often on the map.
I’m confident I can commit most of it to memory.
The riddle, though, is another thing. The words simply say; “Some of us are looking…”
Obviously since I’m going to have to build a jigsaw it’s important I get hold of as many pieces as I can in order to get more words and solve the riddle.
I imagine this is exactly why the director didn’t want the Viscount suggesting we team up — the game’s rigged to ensure we fight for the pieces.
In the past twelve or so seasons the challenges have become more convoluted, more dangerous.
It’s almost as though any form of collusion is being actively discouraged.
Yet we all know that we must work together in some form for a certain time.
There’s no success as a loner early on in this game — those without allies are the easiest to pick off.
But it’s too early for most of us to have formed real alliances.
There might be some half-hearted collusion, but I don’t think there’s any true loyalty happening between contestants yet.
‘I sure could use someone good at puzzles right now, though.’
I don’t do word puzzles in the real world. I don’t like crosswords or that kind of thing. Strategy, yes, it’s in my DNA, but riddles…
“I need to get more pieces,” I murmur under my breath, “one way or the other.”
‘I suppose I could wait until other people put their pieces together on top of the mountain, solve the riddle and head downhill. I just have to beat them down. After all, I only have to ensure I’m not last. But that’s a risky gambit.
And while the puzzle piece says it needs to stay on the mountain, it doesn’t say it needs to stay anywhere particular on the mountain…
it doesn’t say it has to stay as part of the puzzle on TOP of the mountain.
Then again, if I attack someone it’s unlikely another contestant will come to their aid.
But I’ll make enemies. And I might accidentally kill someone who would have benefited me down the track. It’s too soon.’
I think over the competitors tonight and consider who I might be able to fight for a clue without causing too much retribution. Shoving the puzzle piece back inside the bag, I begin to head off in the direction indicated by the map as another thought crosses my mind.
‘Fight, or trick.’
My strategizing, however, is interrupted by the crackle of the underbrush nearby. I spin expecting to see another competitor, but instead a man all dressed in black and holding a rifle steps into view. Spotting me at the same time I notice him, he raises the rifle to his shoulder and fires.
I gasp as a dart hits the bark of a nearby tree.
‘Tranquiliser gun.’
Not waiting for him to fire again, I spin into the brush behind me and run at full tilt, not looking back, the sound of crackling leaves and heavy footfalls behind me the only indication of his pursuit.
I know he can’t fire accurately while running, but the fact that he wants to take me alive is not at all reassuring; if anything, it confirms my fears about who’s pursuing me.
‘Fuck, I knew that boat was suspicious.’
Cursing that I’m wearing red, I continue to sprint through the trees, but dodge downwards towards the water’s edge where I know I’ll be able to run faster on flatter ground unfettered by vegetation. The sound of his pursuit becomes more distant as the trees thin out and I increase my speed.
Ignoring the warnings of snakes in the water, I make a bold move as I reach the shore.
Diving into the lake I swim underwater for as long as I can hold my breath before surfacing behind a big boulder.
Keeping my face almost completely submerged, just my eyes and nostrils above the waterline, I watch my pursuer pause to stare along the open stretch of beach before turning to jog back into the trees.
I know if he works for who I think he works for, he’ll be trained for just this type of terrain and mission.
Rather than tempt fate and assume he’s really walked some distance away, I stay where I am for as long as I can stand the cold water before leaving the lake and making for the closest cottonwood.
At this rate I have no chance of reaching the mountain-top any time soon and solving that damned puzzle, but that’s the least of my worries.
Climbing quickly, I make for branches as high as I can reach that will support my weight.
Finally, resting my head against the trunk, my teeth chattering and fingers pruned from the time spent in the water, I catch my breath before scanning the forest, beach, and lake for any sign of my pursuer.
I don’t see any sign of the man, but I do see Regina, the Mexican.
She’s clearly lost and stands out like dog’s balls wearing all white.
And a new plan comes to me.