91
The city is dusty, old, and gradually being reclaimed by the same apricot-coloured desert sands that its buildings are made from.
All the apartments, shops and homes are empty, from what I can see. The lights on here and there are few and far between, and I imagine only put up for the benefit of the audience at home who might not otherwise have a clue what’s going on.
Just what caused an entire city to be abandoned by its populace, I don’t know, but it’s the perfect place for a contest like this.
Lots of places to hide, lots of potential spots for booby traps and vantage points for assassinations — depending on what kind of weapons are on offer.
But that doesn’t concern me. The bike has given me the opportunity to catch up on lost time and ground, and even if it hadn't, my strategy was always clear in my mind.
I need to get Thorun and I out of this city maze and over the finish line as fast as I can.
And I need to eliminate someone I’ve allowed to live for too long, but I don’t need a weapon for that.
If there’s one thing I’ve learned from evading and neutralising my father’s men over the years, it’s that anything can become a weapon.
As I reach the first set of high buildings I notice the twin straight away.
People always forget to look up. I never do.
She’s standing like a silent sentinel, staring at me.
If she had a gun she would have shot at me, so it’s obvious she’s just waiting to pursue me.
She’s made no secret of the fact that she knows I killed her sister, and she wants her vengeance.
And Vengeance, I understand. I’m not underestimating her.
‘Catch me if you can.’
I raise a single digit to her as I continue past on the bike as fast as the small, winding, dirt roads will allow.
After several minutes of driving and several wrong turns, I finally come across the end of the rainbow in terms of the first set of clue boxes.
Jumping from the bike, but still leaving it running, lying on its side, I study each box very carefully before approaching.
It’s not uncommon for some clues and weapon caches to be booby-trapped.
I’d seen contestants blown up, decapitated, hung and impaled on previous seasons.
When I’m satisfied that none of the boxes hold unwelcome surprises, I try my key in each box until I find one that opens, and gain the next key hidden inside. This key will be needed to open the next set of boxes, when I find where they are.
‘Like fucking Russian dolls.’
As I close the box a flurry of green fireworks shoots into the sky, and I shriek in surprise before recovering myself. I’d seen one go up earlier this evening as I made my way towards the city, but I had no idea they signified a player had taken a key.
It’s not lost on me that the colour matches my khaki catsuit.
‘If Amadea didn’t know where I was before, she sure as fuck does now.’
Taking a minute to peruse the map and get my bearings, I hop straight back onto the bike and roar off in the direction the map indicates the second key will be.
Ideally I wouldn’t be going for them in order, but if I know Thorun she won’t consider the possibility of backtracking or confusing other competitors who might be tracking her.
She’ll be scared, and she’ll run in a straight line.
I don’t know how far she might have got by now, but I know she’s a fast runner.
I estimate, given the time I lost landing in the desert to the time I’d gained the bike, she’s surely had enough time to gain at least one key, maybe two.
I’d only seen one green firework on my ride over.
More may have gone off, but I hadn’t noticed as I’d ridden up and down the dunes.
Rounding a corner I see Silke limping along one of the alleyways towards the second box. She’s carrying two handguns. Obviously not expecting to see a competitor on a bike, she doesn’t raise the gun until it’s too late and I’m virtually on top of her.
Jumping from the moving bike as I draw level with her, I land on her hard and pin her down before she can act. Panting like a wild creature, I press her into the hard roadway as she screams in rage and pain.
“Give me the guns,” I grunt into her ear. “Hand over the guns and I’ll let you go.”
“Never.”
“Silke, I swear to God, you don’t want to anger me. Give me the guns.”
“And then what?” She snarls. “You’ll shoot me.”
“No,” I pant, “you have my word. I’ll help you, but I need the weapons.”
“Help me how?” She snaps, “You’ve broken my leg again!”
“If that were true, you’d be screaming in pain,” I snort. “If you let the guns go I’ll give you a lift to the next clue.”
“No,” she grunts, “if I give you the guns, you give me the bike.”
I pause for a long second considering whether this is a good idea before deciding that, on balance, it’s not.
“I’ll give you a lift until I find my friend.
When I’ve rejoined her I’ll give you the bike.
I think she’s probably three keys ahead of everyone so far, or I expect she will be by the time I find her.
That means you’ll most likely be at the front of the pack.
It’s my final offer. If you don’t take it I’m going to wrestle these guns from you and shoot you in the face. ”
“You bitch!” She screams, struggling ineffectually.
I sigh and shake my head. I don’t want to shoot her. She hadn’t done anything to warrant an execution from me at this stage, and ideally if she made it to the final competition she’d be an easy mark. I’m playing one step ahead all the time and it suits me at this point to let her live.
“Silke, I don’t have time to fuck around. Do you want to die here, or further down the track? Someone could still take you out. Hell, I might change my mind and murder you ten minutes from now, but at least my way you’ll have a fighting chance?”
As my words sink in she stops struggling.
“I hate you,” she grunts, “I accept.”