Ava’s still prowling the perimeter. Everyone’s back except Atrius, LeGrand, and Rebecca. The writer—Ian, who Ava honestly cannot believe is still in—has his notebook out, nervously eating. Christian is less chatty today, sunburned and cross. Jaden and Ava Two have retreated to the corner of the covered area, dragging cots next to each other. Their laughter is forced, performative, their chatter unnecessarily low to emphasize that they don’t want to be overheard. As if Ava would ever care about anything they were saying.
“Do you think three people got out today?” Brandon asks, clearing his throat nervously. He looks shyly over at Mack. “I’m glad you’re still in.” She doesn’t respond, and he feels guilty for what he knows about her now. He wishes he didn’t know, because it makes him sad, and it also makes him a little scared, and he doesn’t like feeling either of those things.
A twig snaps. Even Mack, determined not to care, turns and watches like a fishing line is caught behind her eyes, tying her to whatever is coming.
LeGrand shuffles into camp.
“Did you find her?” Ava demands. She doesn’t even have time to be glad that it was Atrius who got out and not LeGrand. She has to know what happened.
LeGrand shakes his head. His hands tremble as he takes a water bottle. He says nothing else, because he doesn’t have anything else to say. He doesn’t ask how she knows he was looking. He looked, and he didn’t find, and he’s pretty sure that’s not how this game is supposed to work at all.
Mack wonders who LeGrand is, why he is the way he is. She doesn’t know him, but she knows that when someone screams, LeGrand runs toward it. And she doesn’t. What else would anyone ever need in order to weigh their worth?
“No Rebecca, and no Atrius,” Ava says. She frowns. “And no fancy white lady to summarize the day for us or tell us who got out.”
Does no one else keep such desperate track of food? Mack can’t believe they don’t notice. There’s enough for the rest of the game. Linda dropped off food and turned on the spotlight and then left. She isn’t coming back.
“Linda never said she’d be here every day.” Ian snaps his notebook shut, irate. Why are they pretending like it matters to them who got out? As long as it was someone else, isn’t it a good thing? He hates them for taking the game seriously. It’s all so sophomoric, so pointless. But he peed in a jar today rather than risk leaving the shelter of a collapsed wall he found to hide in. So he hates them, and he hates himself, too, and he hates the people running the game. There’s a lot of hate to go around. He plays with his fancy silver lighter, a present to himself after getting his MFA, flicking it open and closed. “Do you really need Linda to tell you the obvious? Two people a day. Two people not back. Atrius and Rebecca are out. I don’t understand why you’re upset. You didn’t care yesterday.”
“I cared,” Christian mutters. The specter of his lost imagined future with Rosiee hovers over his shoulder. He can’t recast it with anyone left. Rebecca’s gone and she wasn’t his type anyway. Beautiful Ava is obviously with Jaden—he can’t compete with that—and he’s pretty sure the other two don’t like men. He tries to be open-minded about stuff like that, but it rankles him. There’s nothing wrong with him. He’s a catch. It’s not his fault something got wired wrong in them and they can’t see it.
Maybe there will be a party afterward. He imagines himself the winner. Reunited with Rosiee, who got out early enough that she won’t even be jealous because she knows she never had a chance. She’ll only be happy for him, happy that the best person won. And then…
He’s too tired to finish it. He lies back on his cot.
“It’s obvious Jaden and Ava Two have been sabotaging other players,” Ava says without preamble, standing in front of Brandon, Mack, and LeGrand. Her voice is calm but not hushed. She doesn’t care if the other Ava and Jaden hear her. “And whatever they say, someone fucked with Rebecca in a serious way today.”
“Excuse me?” beautiful Ava says, indignant.
“So we get them out.” Ava shrugs.
“You know we can hear you,” Jaden says, standing to expand his plumage to be as threatening as he can manage. Ava knows exactly who he is, exactly the type, exactly what will happen if he is ever faced with actual terror. Actual pain.
“I know,” she says. “And I want you to know how few fucks I give about that. I’m going to get you out. I know it, you know it, carry on.”
Jaden rolls his eyes and shakes his head. He hates that bitch. She thinks she’s so tough, with her buzzed head and her creepy muscles. Girls shouldn’t have muscles like that. She only has one working leg, for fuck’s sake. Does she really think she could beat him in any way that mattered?
“Whatever,” he says, but it comes out slightly too high. He wishes he could have a do-over. Say something tougher, cooler. But it doesn’t matter. It was his Ava’s idea, but he’s the one who got Sydney out. He doesn’t know what happened to Rebecca, but let them think that was him, too. Let them enter the park paranoid and determined to beat him. It’ll make them sloppy, and he’ll win. He’s going to win, he can feel it. He’s the only winner here.
“I’m on your team, Ava,” Brandon says, pointing to the correct one. He doesn’t like the tension, but he likes Ava. He’s never liked Jaden. Jaden is the type who moves through the world asking others to challenge him, daring them to call him on his garbage, knowing most of them never will.
This time, with strong Ava on his side, Brandon can call him on it. It’s exciting, being part of a team. Maybe this is why other guys like sports so much.
LeGrand nods, silent. He spent the whole afternoon in the open, looking for Rebecca, and he didn’t see or hear anything. No one searching. And no Rebecca, either. He has a bad feeling. But he’s had a bad feeling since he was kicked out of home. The entire world is one big, bad feeling.
He knows Ava is a sinner, dirty, wrong, but he also feels like Ava would have helped him back home. Would have made the same choice he did. If Ava’s lost, so is he, and, well, at least she’s the kind of lost who stays up with you when you’re crying at night.
“Get each other out for all I care,” Ian mutters, pulling a pillow over his head. “Just do it fast.”
Christian holds up his hands. “I’m Sweden.”
“Switzerland,” the other Ava says, unaware that even the lowly solar panel salesman thinks of her as the other Ava. It would make her furious if she knew.
“What?” Christian asks.
“It’s Switzerland that’s neutral, not Sweden.”
“Thanks, Professor.” Christian tries to make it flirty—maybe he does have a shot with her—but she looks away, biting one of her manicured nails. She doesn’t look happy.
She isn’t. Jaden seemed like the best choice. But looking at the other Ava, strong and angry and flanked by the only nice guys here, she wonders. No, she doesn’t wonder. She knows. She’s dated a dozen Jadens, and they’re all the same, and it always ends the same way. He’ll betray her out there, on a day close to the end, when he can’t get anyone else out.
She knows it. She can feel it coming. But leaving him now wouldn’t change that. So she laughs. “It’s a game, remember, guys?”
“Mack, you’re on our team, right?” Brandon asks, hopeful.
Mack lies on her side, curls around her own emptiness, and falls into sleep like stepping off a ledge.
* * *