The Government Game

CHAPTER TEN

Her name was Ryleigh Kaye, and boy was she a fiery woman, full of rage, which suited her – after all, she did have red hair.

As she made her way hastily through the depths of the forest, the trees slowly becoming more and more thick as she ventured forward, she was quickly running out of breath. She wasn't fit, but she wasn't fat. She just didn't exercise.

She bent over near a tree, her palm resting on the bark. 'Whew,' she murmured. 'It's bloody hot.'

She looked at her map. This particular forest, even in the deepest parts, was close to the village.

Ryleigh was fairly tall for a woman, but she was also quite thin because of her metabolism.

She sat down on the grass, still wet with dew, pulled out her assigned weapon, a TEC-9 with two magazines and a few boxes full of rounds. One magazine was locked and loaded into the TEC-9. She was a volunteer and was playing to win so she felt as though she was lucky to get this particular item.

She needed the money for her mother's cancer, and she figured if she won she could use that money to go towards her mother's treatment, as well as a house and a few other goodies. The pension and the six-month grant to do whatever she wanted was also pretty cool. She looked up at branches, covering most of the sky because of how thick the trees were. She breathed in and felt the fresh air hit her lungs. It tasted somehow nice. She then aimed her TEC-9 at a tree, safety on, finger off the trigger, and pretended to shoot it. She heard a yelp from nearby, and looked in the vicinity of the yelp. An elderly lady was looking out from behind a large, thick tree.

The elderly lady was quivering. She looked sweet, but had a look that showed she had been through the ringer in life. She ducked back behind the tree.

This particular lady's name was Rosemary Grant. She had been following Ryleigh, without Ryleigh having even noticed. She was frail and thin, wore thick-rimmed glasses that magnified her eyes, and was pale with plenty of wrinkles. She looked back out from behind the tree.

Ryleigh felt infuriated that she had been followed. She let out a horrified, blood-curdling scream. 'You foul bitch!' she yelled, rage lacing her high-pitched cry. Rosemary was taken aback by this and collapsed, sobbing her eyes out, hands pushing her glasses to her forehead.

'Please don't hurt me!' she cried.

Ryleigh, leaving her stuff other than the TEC-9, got up and stormed over to Rosemary and said:

'What's your name?'

Rosemary, her voice shaking like a tremor, looked up with red eyes and replied, 'Rosemary. Rosemary Grant.'

Ryleigh, being a paranoid person even when in a good mood, and being stressed out about actually being a contestant (she hadn't thought about it when signing up), was livid that this lady had been following her.

'Were you planning on killing me? You whore!' she screamed, as rageful as an ostracised mass murderer. 'Sneaking up on me then killing me! How dare you!'

'N-no! I-I wasn't going t-to do anything of the s-sort, dear!' Rosemary was absolutely fear-stricken. She was cowering at this point.

Ryleigh's tone of voice changed so suddenly that it was almost terrifying, and she said: 'You're a sneaky little germ, Rosemary, and you're about to die. Any last words?'

Rosemary's eyes widened, and they looked almost comical in the lenses of her glasses. 'NO!' she screamed, and cowered even more.

Ryleigh pointed the TEC-9 at Rosemary, then pressed down on the trigger five times. Five bullets exited their casings and penetrated Rosemary's skull and brain. She collapsed immediately and looked tiny on the ground, her head eviscerated and practically nothing but pulp and mush. She went through Rosemary's belongings and pulled out her item: a plastic toy wizard's wand ...

Ryleigh felt her head skip a beat, and she had realised what she did: she killed an innocent, elderly woman. Why would she be following me? Seriously? Why would I think that? She wasn't out to kill me ... She was very clearly afraid.

And yet, she killed her. Ryleigh had struck first, and had actually murdered someone, taken a life.

This game messes with you, she thought, guilt-ridden. She stumbled over to her backpack, tears streaming down her face and blurring her vision.

Why did I do that? Why?

She collapsed near her bag, then gathered everything together and put them in orderly and neatly. She tried to stand with the bag but could barely move other than having the shakes. She was perspiring a cold sweat. She felt so, so guilty. She managed to flee the scene.

And left Rosemary Grant to decay in the hot sunshine that trickled through the tree branches. Rosemary's mushy and pulpy remains of her head and skull were eventually eaten by magpies.