neck and with a jerk he pulled her to her feet. To my right one of the hunters emerged from the thicket, the ugliest of the hunters, the cowboy. Snezhana was limping after him, her T-shirt torn and her makeup smeared.
′′Hey you, with the firm ass!′′ The fat man gave Laila a salacious look, and when she looked up at him with tearful eyes, he sent her an airy kiss and a promise, stroking his balls: ′′You're next.′′
Laila went hysterical and Vogue had to practically drag her into the barracks. Snezhana was being pushed by a shaggy-haired gamekeeper in a long cloak with greasy sleeves. He looked as if he had last bathed a month ago, assuming he even knew how to bathe at all.
′′Outcast, did you mess with her under the bushes?′′
′′She's not my type,′′ the dirty-haired man snorted, appreciating Jason's joke. ′′Stu's the one who decorated her.′′
When the cowboy heard his name, he laughed contently.
′′Did you let her go or did she get away?′′ Jason shifted his gaze from Stu to Snezhana, as if trying to imagine how anyone could have missed such a simple target.
′′Her down payment was enough for my first time.′′
′′Do you want me to send the video?′′ Outcast chuckled. ′′I'm going to watch it on long, boring nights.′′
The cowboy nodded and laughed again.
′′How did you manage it?′′ I asked Snezhana in Russian, still not understanding.
′′Orally,′′ she snapped.
′′What?′′ I gasped, unable to believe my own ears. ′′You gave him…′′
′′…a blowjob,′′ Snezhana hissed. And mistaking my silence as interest, she added arrogantly: ′′He liked it, so he let me go. He said I'd have to come up with something more original next time.′′
The squeamishness on my face infuriated her.
′′What would you do, you fucking righteous girl? Would you die rather than take it in your mouth?′′
That was a fair rebuke. I have no idea what I would have done to save my skin.
In the barracks it turned out that we were the last ones caught. The rest of the ′contestants′ had already been brought in and chained to the walls. So that's what the brackets are for! The bed could be moved or broken, freeing the handcuffs. Ripping the metal out of the log was more difficult. Jason checked to see if my new bracelet was tight by twisting it around my wrist. It scratched my skin, but I held back a groan. As soon as the door closed behind the gamekeepers, I checked the length of the chain, it allowed me to move freely to the bathroom. After looking around the barracks, I counted the casualties. Dayo's father, the strongest of the Nigerians, had been killed. His wife was sobbing with her daughter in her arms. Dayo's brother sat beside them without a single tear in his eye, his face gray with grief. No one cried over the solitary biracial man with the huge biceps. The two remaining Alvarez brothers mourned the third, Jose, I think. One of the two Polish women was killed too. Laila was howling, burying her face into the pillow. All together five less, including the fat man Jason had shot.
I sank down on the bed. My bag with IDs and my suitcase with clothes were gone, just like all the others. But that was the least of my worries right now. The thought that I was going to die wouldn't leave me for a moment. I had to find the strength to accept it, to calm down. Everyone dies sooner or later. The only difference between me and everyone else is that I know exactly how long I have: four days until the end of the hunt, five at most if the hunters aren't too lucky. The only question is: how do I die? Should I let myself be killed or should I fight to the last moment?
There was no telling where my depressing thoughts would have taken me; I probably would have settled on taking a bullet. But the three guys at the next bunk, the bespectacled guy with his two friends, the one with the dreadlocks and the bearded man, didn't let me brood over a growing feeling of resignation: they were heatedly discussing the layout of the site.
′′There are two trailers with satellite dishes on the roof,′′ the bearded man gestured vigorously. ′′That's where they receive a signal. And there are cameras on almost every tree. I'm sure they broadcast as well. They wouldn't be filming this perversion for nothing. We could send a message if we got connected to their network.′′
′′Don't be silly, Barty,′′ snorted the guy with the dreadlocks. ′′They won't let us anywhere near it.′′
′′This is no time to argue, Ian,′′ the bespectacled man interrupted him. ′′Let's just go over the facts and come up with a plan of action before we're all blown to hell.′′
′′But the rules say no less than five targets per hunter,′′ the curly-haired guy, obviously not of their company, timidly intervened. ′′That makes twenty-five, and we're thirty. So there's a chance of survival.′′
′′Do you see any survivors from the previous hunt?′′ the bespectacled man him off. ′′Or maybe you think we're the first? It's obvious they've got everything down to a routine here. And we've seen their faces. Trust me, they won't let us live. We have to escape.′′
′′Where to?′′ snorted Ian. ′′Remember how long it took us to get here? It's two hundred miles to the nearest settlement! It'll take you two months to get out.′′
′′Do you want to live or not?′′ Barty poked him on the shoulder. ′′Or don't you give a shit after smoking a joint?′′
′′Shut up,′′ I hissed, lowering my head so that the four cameras in the corners couldn't see it was me talking. ′′There are cameras everywhere. That means there might be microphones too′′.
The guys fell silent, and I mulled it over for a while. Four-eyes was right about a lot of things. If we could find a way to stay in the woods until dark, there was a chance to climb over the fence. Besides, I know what they don't – there's a blind spot, and where there's one there's probably more. Which means that the cameras don't cover the entire area. It took us about half an hour to get to the barracks, so the distance to the fence is around two kilometers. Multiplied by the width of the site, it's a big area. Not easy to fully monitor. Suddenly I smiled. Hope was spreading its wings again, pushing the thought of death aside.
′′Hey, Ms. Overcautiousness,′′ Four-eyes said without turning his head toward me. ′′Let's run in one direction tomorrow, talk about who saw what.′′
The guy wasn't stupid.
′′Okay. And we don't talk here anymore.′′
The door of the barracks swung open with a mighty kick. One of the gamekeepers, who looked older than the others, appeared on the doorstep with an insidious grin. He was wearing a sleeveless leather vest, badly worn in places, over a holey T-shirt. Was it to show-off, or did he really not get bitten by mosquitoes? I had scratched my skin red the previous night, but he didn't seem to give a damn. Without saying a word, the gamekeeper went inside and took aim at some of the captives. Outcast followed him and went to the far end of the barracks, also without lowering his rifle. The people fell silent, and only Laila kept sobbing. Are they going to kill us now? Fortunately, they had just brought boxed meals with dinner. Two new guards piled them up right on the floor under the silent eye of Sandra and the gamekeepers while we were looking at them hatefully. A plastic box with bottles of water was dragged in last. The people headed
