“Is that really the best you’ve got? I thought better of you, Lara.”
“Go to hell, Bryce.”
“All that time, I was right there and you never knew. I even set up Marco to buy you some drinks and drug you. Naive idiot did whatever I asked for the right price.”
Marco? Is Marco the guy Noah saw me with? God. Where does it end?
“And you just ate that up so easily. A little attention and you were putty in his hands.”
“You’re a monster,” I whisper, trembling.
He laughs. “I never claimed I wasn’t, but you, my dear, are gullible.”
I spot a large rock, grab it, and throw it at him.
It’s the only thing I can think to do and it takes him by surprise, catching him in the head.
He takes a few wobbly steps backward but I don’t wait to see if he manages to stay on his feet or not. I turn and run. I run hard, I run fast, I run fueled by fear.
Wild laughter follows me.
“You can run, but you can’t hide.”
I can hear his boots pounding after me.
Tears run down my face as I pick up the pace. I can’t go back to the cave; I have to try to hide. If he can’t track me, he can’t find me. I push past leaves and trees as they grow thicker. I stumble over rocks, but I don’t stop. Sweat runs down my forehead and adrenaline spikes, causing me to pick up the pace even further.
I turn and look behind me—a huge mistake. I slam into a tree, sending my whole body launching backward. I land on the ground with a thump and a strangled cry. I flip my body over as quickly as I can and start frantically crawling toward the thickest parts of the forest, off the track. I’ll risk whatever’s in there if I can hide.
It’s not enough.
He comes out of nowhere, as if he wasn’t even trying. He reaches down, hooking a hand around my ankle.
I scream.
As loud as I can.
Then I kick backward, hitting something, I don’t know what. I keep doing that, kicking over and over as I try to free my ankle.
“I could kill you so easily, but I made a promise. I said I’d injure you, little by little. If you’ll just stay still, I can make it quick.”
“Fuck you!” I spit, flipping myself over and driving my foot into his face.
He topples backward and I leap up, spinning to run again. He throws the knife, like some sort of goddamned pro. It hurtles toward me and hits my arm, its blade slicing through my skin as simply as if it were gliding through butter. Stars cloud my vision as pain rips through my body. Blood comes gushing out, running down and dripping over my fingers.
Run, Lara.
Run.
I force my legs to move; somehow I force them to go even though everything inside me wants to curl up and die. I grip my arm, blood flowing over my fingers, and charge down the track. Laughter follows me, along with footsteps. He won’t get me again. He won’t. I have to hide. I run faster, so fast my lungs burn and my breathing practically stops.
Sweat burns my eyes, but I don’t stop. I don’t let go of my arm. I think of Noah. I think of freedom. I have to get through this. I have to. I don’t know at what point I lose him, I just know that his footsteps seem to quiet behind me. I run and run until my body refuses to take anymore. I stop for a split second and glance around. The forest is thick, deep, dense on both sides of me. Exactly what I need. I won’t get far in there, it’s so cluttered, but I’m willing to try.
I can’t run any longer.
I step off the track and shove in between two massive trees. Vines swing, crisscrossing over them, and I have to use the last of my strength to push them up. Bushes and logs are so thick, so cluttered that I can barely move two steps without having to haul something out of the way—Noah was right, we never would have been able to navigate through here. Still, I keep going until I’m about two yards in.
I spy a thick bush and, exhausted, press myself into it as deep as I can. Branches scratch my arms and tangle in my hair, but I squat down, drop my head, and try to steady my breathing. A few minutes later, I hear his footsteps fill my quiet space. I got farther ahead of him than I thought. I close my eyes, clench them actually, and wait. He’s walking slowly, almost silently.
I hold my breath.
There isn’t much left to hold, but I’m not going to let it out.
“Lara?” he calls, his voice almost melodic in its sound. “Come out come out wherever you are. We’re not done playing.”
I don’t move.
“Noah was right about the cameras, this is so much more fun.”
Don’t. Move.
“You know, if you want to play, I’m great at hide-and-seek.”
Bile rises in my throat.
“Oh Lara.”
I pray the bushes surrounding me are enough, that he won’t be able to see me inside them. I stay crouched like that, listening to him tormenting me for what seems like hours. Slowly but surely, his footsteps move off in a different direction and fade away. I still don’t move. I stay crouched, breathing so softly I wonder if it’s even enough, for so long my body screams at me to move. My muscles cramp, my back aches, and my legs throb.
But my arm.
The agony is almost unbearable. I’m bleeding so much.
I finally decide to move and slowly shuffle out of the bush. I wait to see if he’ll just leap out, but he doesn’t. I don’t know how far he’s gone, or where he’ll be waiting, but I know the game just went from bad to worse. He’s hunting now, for real, and I don’t know how the hell we’re going to beat him.
I stand there, in the middle of those bushes, for another ten or so minutes, just staring, waiting, not trusting that I’m alone. It becomes clear after a while that I am, and I shuffle out with great difficulty. When I’m back on the path, I lean over and gag, my stomach empty but still wanting to purge itself. It hurts. It all just hurts. Noah was right, I shouldn’t have come out here, but I did and now I’m paying for it.
I don’t even know where I am.
I don’t know which way I ran.
I don’t know how to get back to Noah, I don’t even know if he’s okay.
I just know I’m alone.
So utterly alone. And I’m terrified.
TWENTY-TWO
The pain is too much.
I walk in the direction I think the cave lies in, but the fact of the matter is I could be completely wrong. It all looks so similar. It could be the wrong move, I know that, going back to the place I was hiding because he may be there, lying in wait, but I don’t want to get lost in this forest, because I’d lose Noah, and we’re stronger as a team. At least the bleeding from the gash in my arm has stopped. It’s not as deep as I first thought, but I’ve no doubt doctors would have a serious discussion about stitches if I were at a hospital.
I start moving, slowly, cautiously, trying to make as little noise as possible in case Psycho is waiting, ready to jump out. So far, I haven’t heard or seen anything but my entire body is on alert; every single step sends a panic through my heart.