Man Hunt

Chapter 2

CHAPTER 2-

I try to move but the space is too small. all around me there is wall. Above, beneath, left, right. I am trapped. A sound like a strangled animal escapes my lips as I wriggle around microscopically in the glass box.

Through the transparent walls I can see children running. Blurs of color. And between each blur I see our hunters, laughing and bouncing excitedly like wild dogs preparing to be released to hunt.

I'm running out if time. A minute. That's all they gave us. That's all they gave me. I could die tonight. They could kill me.

I twist and push at whatever I happen to be touching frantically in my final desperate attempt at an escape from the box. At last, my legs hang down and my feet touch the dirt covered floor.

Run! It's time to run! They will kill you! Go! But I can't of course. Not while Rosalie sits, frozen in fear, still in her glass box.

There are others like her. Some kids also remain in their compartments either unconscious from being kidnapped or unable to move for fear of being slaughtered. They will be the first to die.

And so will Rosalie. No, I correct myself. Rosalie will not be dying tonight, because I am taking her with me.

I reach through the opening of her box and grasp one of her ankles. She shrieks and shrinks as far back into the corner of her box as she can. She stares straight forward as if I am a transparent ghost to her. She stares at Sarah, who is clicking her tongue to the rhythm of a clock, signaling that time is running out.

I yank her toward myself. She slips over the edge of her box and I scoop her up, bridal style. And then I run. I run straight toward the only door in the room and hurtle through it at top speed, nearly smashing into the wall of the hallway that I have just entered.

I sprint frantically down the hallway, passing room after room. I pass a teenage boy that had fallen and was howling in pain and clutching his ankle. There was no time to stop. I continue to run far away from the people that brought me here.

Rosalie cries and I feel guilty for the rough way that I am handling her, but there is no time for gentleness. This is life or death.

Behind me, I hear a woman shout, "Time's up!" Then I hear laughter followed by the screams of someone young. Someone too young.

We need to find a place to hide before they find us. I dart into a small room. There is hardly anything inside: a small table, a wooden chair that is missing two legs, and a small, worn out sofa. There isn't enough space to hide in here. If one of our kidnappers comes in here we're dead.

I turn back to find a different room but stop when I hear footsteps coming towards us. Fear and panic rises within me. My eyes grow wide and my entire body begins to shake. Rosalie whimpers and I look down at her. I know for certain that I will not be able to conceal myself, but perhaps Rosalie could.

I set her down gruffly and turn towards the sofa. I lift the cushions and gesture for Rosalie to climb inside. She hesitates, but when the footsteps quicken she leaps up from the dirt covered floor and steps carefully into the hard frame of the inner couch. She curls uncomfortably into a tiny ball and looks up at me with wide eyes.

"Shh." I instruct her as I replace the scrappy cushions, concealing her. The floorboards creak loudly as the oncoming figure comes nearer. I stand and place my foot onto one of the legs of the wooden chair and wrap my fingers around the other leg. I pull upward and the leg splinters away in my hand.

With my futile weopon, I crouch behind the sofa where Rosalie waits silently to live or die. I lower my face to the musty floor and peer below the couch at the doorway.

The footsteps grow louder and louder. My throat goes dry and my tongue tastes like paper. Close. I cannot break my eyes away despite the dust collecting in my eyes, willing me to blink. Closer. I begin to hold my breath subconsciously even though I am in need of air. Closest. The entire world goes completely silent. There is nothing but the sound of silence.

And then, I watch in slow motion as a pair of feet stop in front of our door, turn, and enter the room.