This chapter was written by the brilliant SallyMason1
Abby trudged down the sidewalk of the empty street, eager to get home. As she passed under an open window, she could hear one of the occupants shout "Go, sixty-four! I can't believe the motherfucker is still alive!"
Abby's eye roll was automatic. What people didn't realise was that viewers like him fuelled the hunt. Without them, advertising would plummet and the whole show would be cancelled. Sure, the Addingtons and their hunting buddies were also a big part of it, their bounty a source of funding, but without the damn advertising, the whole thing would lose its attraction.
For a second, her heart soared, and her fingernails dug deep into her skin to prevent her from screaming. Eyes filled with fear and pain had been the last thing she remembered of her father. The dark stain in his pants that grew as his bladder gave up the moment the bang split the airwaves. Laughter and scorn of the TV commentator when the camera zoomed in on this last moment of embarrassment, before even flashing to her dad's face. A bullet had torn a crater where his lips had once curled to a soft smile and had formed words like "I love you". Those lips that had kissed her forehead when she had been scared at night and cried for a mother she had never known. Lips that could blow comfort on any scrape and make the pain disappear.
Swallowing down tears, Abby continued her journey along the sidewalk. The tears were still just a lump in her throat, but the threat that they might spill was imminent. In her darkest hour, she had reached out to Sampson, the ex who had sworn to her father he would take care of her before her dad had so recklessly agreed to sign-up as a contestant. The boyfriend who had no clue what to do when the inevitable happened. He had abandoned her when he couldn't cope with her grief. Jerk extraordinaire. Abby was glad she got rid of him.
Rounding another street corner and she stood right in front of the building she called home. Her apartment was smaller than the one her father had rented, but the neighbourhood was just as shitty after Abby refused to touch a penny of the prize money. It was still in her bank account, waiting for the day when it could be used to destroy the Hunt. This had become her secret life mission. End a barbaric game that was entertaining for everyone but the prey and their loved ones who were left powerless to stop them from being slaughtered.
With a huff, Abby unlocked the heavy door, pushing it open with yet another huff. As she clomped up the steps, she heard the TV running behind several doors. The Hunt had to be gripping today since as it seemed that even more people watched than usual. That or everyone was itching to find out how young Marcus Addington would do on his first hunt. The teaser trailers over the last few days had been filled with snippets of his childhood, all leading up to the big day. Abby had to admit he was cute, if one liked that type of killer glare in a guy. Of course, he was way too young for her, but the student nurses at the hospital all swooned over him.
Just as she was about to stick the key in the lock, the door to her apartment opened. Nick's finger covered his lips in warning before she even got a chance to say hello. His eyes signalled to the stairwell behind her and she turned on her heel, tracing back the steps she came. He followed her. Out on the street, his arm flung around her shoulders. They could pass as any other couple who were out for an afternoon stroll.
His eyes moved from one CCTV to the next as they walked along the streets. Abby knew that he was able to recall the location of every camera in the city. Installing and maintaining them was his job.
The drones were different. Everyone knew they were there at times, but no one could ever be certain when they were launched and who controlled them... or what they were trying to see. Most of the time, they were so well hidden that they were near invisible, though sometimes, Abby couldn't shake the feeling that they were always around her. It was silly, of course. No one would go through the trouble of spying on her. Her life was by far not interesting enough.
In a tiny ally, totally hidden from view, Nick stopped and opened a hatch in the ground. Without hesitation, Abby went down on her stomach, her feet fumbling until they found the first rung of the ladder. She knew where they were going, even if she hadn't been down there for the better part of six months. The sound of the soles of her shoes hitting metal rung after metal rung echoed hollow in the small shaft, and the darkness was getting thicker the further down she climbed. Only after it was pitch black around her did her feet finally find solid ground. A thud confirmed that Nick had landed right beside her. The beam from his flashlight was blinding and it took Abby's eyes a few seconds to adjust.
"Hi." His smile was sweet before he pulled her into a hug for a kiss. "How was work?"
"Fine, but I'm really curious why you dragged me down here. What's happening?"
"No clue. I got an encrypted text from Darren about half an hour ago, summoning me to headquarters. You were just lucky you got home when you did, or I would have had to meet up with you later."
"Did the text say anything else?"
"Nope." Nick peeled the small cell phone from his pocket. The thing was so old and behind in technology that it was impossible to intercept. It didn't even have access to the internet. "Here."
Grandpa is expecting you for dinner at 5 pm sharp. Bring chicken.
Abby rolled her eyes. She would have to have a serious chat with Darren. The fact that he still used chicken as her call sign was unacceptable.
She checked her watch. "It's almost five. We should hurry."
The beam of the flashlight illuminated the tunnel as they made their way through the underground maze. Staying clear of a couple of sewage pipes, they climbed down another ladder. The elevator at the end was camouflaged as a standard maintenance door with a sign "Authorized Personnel Only" and was secured by a keypad. Three wrong tries and the booby-traps would go off. First a transparent and odourless gas that would knock out intruders within seconds, before the guns in the wall would turn them into a sieve in case they came equipped with a gasmask. The last line of defence was a total combustion of the elevator if someone happened to survive the ambush. At least, that's what Darren always insisted.
Nick let Abby step into the elevator first and his key set the apparatus in motion. They sank quickly. From prior trips, Abby knew that it had to be at least ten stories. With a jerk, the elevator came to a stop. Four machine guns were pointed at them when the doors slid back.
"All clear," Darren beamed at them while the guards who were with him dispersed through a door off the long, narrow hallway that was brightly lit by neon lights in the ceiling.
"Hey, man." Nick knocked fists with his friend. "What's up?"
"Loads happening, my brother. It's a mess." Darren smiled at Abby. "Hey, Chicken."
"Don't call me that."
"But it's your call sign."
"Well, can't you call me something cool like Falcon or Viper?"
"Sorry, but those are reserved for tough guys. You're a chick, so I figured Chicken fits the bill."
Sexist pig. Abby's eyes shot a few daggers his way which Darren laughed off. For a year, this had been their usual banter. Abby had gotten used to it and might even miss it if he all of a sudden budged.
They took off down the long hallway, passing several checkpoints and keypad doors. The maze was confusing and even though Abby had been to the headquarters of the Hunt resistance about half a dozen times, she still wasn't able to find her way around.
"So, what's is so urgent that I needed to abandon my cooking and come down here straight away?" Nick asked Darren.
"You were cooking?"
"Yeah. Abby works a lot and I like to fix her dinner."
"How noble." Grinning, Darren winked at Abby. "But joke aside, something happened during today's hunt. Marcus Addington disappeared into the woods and hasn't come back out. That caused wild speculations—some people believe he is secretly making out with a girl. Others aren't that optimistic and fear something bad has happened to him. The game organizers are just assembling an official search party."
"Shit," Nick scowled. "If that contestant even put a scratch on Marcus, his old man will make every future one pay."
"Yeah, it won't be pretty."
Darren stopped abruptly in front of a metal door. After he knocked, a gruff "come on in" admitted the little group. The walls of the small room were plastered with TV screens, showing the hunting grounds from different angles. Abby gasped when the man who had stretched out comfortable on a couch sat up. She had seen him on pictures but never met him in person. Tony Foster was a legend in the resistance, the man who started it all.
When he stood, her head tilted back, and she had to clench her jaw not to gasp again in awe. Well over six feet with broad shoulders that almost threatened to tear his shirt apart at the seams, he was a giant of a man. His upper arms had to be the diameter of her thighs. Dark, almost black, eyes were barely distinguishable from his ebony skin and the fine layer of sweat that glistened on his bald head gave it almost a polished appearance. Only his easy smile drew her in, but she still found him utterly intimidating.
"Tony, this is my friend Nick," Darren's chin jutted at Abby, "and this is his girl, Chicken."
"It's Abby, actually."
"It's nice to meet you. Why don't you guys sit down?"
Abby slumped into the overstuffed loveseat where Nick had already chosen his perch. His arm curled around her shoulders and she leaned against him for comfort. All eyes were on Tony, but he kept them in suspense while he fumbled with the remote that controlled the TVs. After the screens went black, he cleared his throat.
"I got an email today. Some forensic analyst police guru claimed he got information that could be detrimental to the Addingtons. Naturally, I was leery since he works for the cops and asked what he wanted in return. So far, no answer, so it might just be a fluke."
"How did he even get your email?" Nick asked.
"It was sent to my business account."
Tony's official job was bodyguard for those who could afford him, something that paid his bills tenfold though he was also independently wealthy. Born and bred for the Hunt, he and his twin brother Tyler had nothing to show for while they were growing up except for a father who was obsessed with winning a million pounds. He had prepared his sons to be contestants since they were able to crawl, and when they turned sixteen, Tony lost the coin toss, sending Tyler to the hunting grounds.
Three days later, Tyler had crossed the finish line after causing mayhem. Several hunters died, most shot in the head by their own rifles. One of them was grandpa Addington, the patriarch of the family, who was killed by a stab to his neck just yards from the finish line after Tyler dropped on him out of a tree.
Back then, the law had been silent as to the rights of the contestants and the show makers had to pay Tyler the prize money. His elation was short lived. That night, a lynch mob snatched him from his bed. Even his strength was powerless to the twenty or so men who beat him to a pulp before pouring gasoline over him and setting him on fire. As a warning, his charred body was strung up to a flag pole at the court house by his neck. Three days later, the law was changed, outlawing contestant's rights to defend themselves with lethal force. Any violation was punishable by death.
"And this cop who sent you the email, did he give you a name?" Nick squeezed Abby's hand, his eyes asking is she was okay. The warmth of his body against her freezing skin bore witness of how much this conversation upset her.
"Yeah. It's Sampson Ford."
Abby gasped.
Tony nodded. "We know about your connection with him, don't worry. That's actually why I asked you here. We were hoping you can... reconnect with him and find out if he can be trusted."
A knock on the door cut off Abby's reply.
"Tony, you have to see this. One of the hunters is dead."
"Who?" With one press of the button, Tony turned the TVs back on.
The face of a commentator was on every screen. "Breaking news. It has just been confirmed that Henry Addington has been found dead on the hunting grounds. A primary investigation has concluded that contestant sixty-four is ruled as the perpetrator. It is also believed that he has kidnapped hunter Marcus Addington and is hiding out in the dense woods that mark the western territory of the hunting grounds. Game show executives have asked the police for help and several search troops will be dispatched within the hour."
If they found contestant sixty-four, they would make him suffer.
With one click, Tony muted the commentator. "Darren, get four teams together. I want to move out in ten."
"What are you planning to do?"
Tony pulled a gun from the waistband of his pants, letting a bullet slide from the magazine into the chamber. "We're going to make sure that contestant sixty-four gets out of there alive."