′′Sorry…′′
He ran further without responding to my apology. I rushed forward. A few meters further Lesha caught up with me.
′′What the fuck is going on here?′′ he shouted on the run.
′′I have no idea. And I really want to get out of here.′′
Lesha was called out by his father and he ran to him. Both turned into the sparse spruce forest and soon disappeared among the trees. I stopped, trying to catch my breath. I heard gunshots and the hiss of radios behind me, the hunters talking to each other. I took off and, taking a wild guess, turned to the right.
From the barracks I could see only two walls. Both went far into the thicket, but even if the whole area was fenced off, there were probably holes in the fence somewhere. It was worth a try to find them.
The sounds slowly receded, and I froze again. What if I can't make it to the wall? I looked around. The forest wasn't very dense here though there were some tall trees. My brother had taught me how to climb them when I was a kid, so I decided this was a good time to brush up on my rusty skills. The thorns on the nearest wide aspen tree prevented me from climbing – the whole trunk was covered with them. The lower branches of a neighboring birch had been chopped off and I couldn't reach the upper branches. Well, they couldn't possibly have disabled every tree here! I rushed to check and soon abandoned the idea of climbing. I could not pull out the thorns, and the trees that had not had their lower branches removed could not support the weight of my body. Having found nothing useful but a few cameras, I moved on. Slowly at first, then back to running.
The gunshots behind me had ceased completely. I must have run quite far away from my pursuers. A figure flashed to my right and I crouched in fear, but it was only the guy with glasses. He didn't notice me but looked around and ducked into the bushes again. I straightened up and suddenly saw a dark-skinned gamekeeper in front of me. He fired and I barely had time to stretch out on the ground, hiding behind the bushes. The second bullet hit the tree trunk next to me. Trying to make as little noise as possible, I crawled along the bushes but the gamekeeper heard me and fired again. I jumped up sharply, darted to the other side and ran, expecting to be shot in the back, but either the trees prevented the guy from aiming or he did not intend to kill me. After running a few hundred meters, I turned to the right, hoping to find a wall, but soon realized that I had gotten myself lost. Maybe I should have made a small detour and gone back to the camp. They certainly wouldn't look for me in the barracks. I darted forward again, stopping only when I reached the wall. A burst of machine gun fire prevented me from reaching the wall. The guards were watching the area from the towers, not letting anyone get close. Maybe I should wait until dark. I wandered along the wall, not going deeper into the woods, away from the watchtowers, but the guards weren't the only ones watching my whereabouts. A shadow flashed to my left. I shuddered and retreated to the trees, trying to hide, but it was too late, a gamekeeper was approaching. The dangerous one, the one with the tattoos. I was too scared to make a move. And should I, when I'm in their crosshairs? Calmly, with no change on his face, the blond-haired man stepped closer with the same indifference he had when he shot the fat teenager a few hours ago. Staring into the black gaze of the muzzle, I held my breath. The blond-haired man took another step and the gun touched my forehead. I closed my eyes shut and shuddered imagining the bullet smashing through my skull.
′′Not in the head…′′ I didn't recognize my own barely audible whisper.
The gamekeeper was silent. The gun moved slowly, chillingly along my cheek as it made its way down to my neck. I opened my eyes in surprise. Tilting his head, the gamekeeper was watching my reaction. Suddenly, I remembered the saying that if a killer looked their victim in the eye for a long time, he couldn't kill them. It was worth trying. So, which one of us will blink first? As if accepting the challenge, he wasn't looking away. Chills ran down my spine again as the blond-haired man slowly moved the gun lower. It was now resting in the hollow of my chest. I held my breath.
Just when I thought he was going to shoot, the radio in his pocket went off:
′′Jason, did you find her?′′
′′Yes,′′ the gamekeeper said reluctantly, as he continued to hold me in his gaze.
′′Come out then,′′ the radio crackled. ′′You're in the blind spot′′.
Not putting the gun down, he shoved me in the shoulder. I turned and walked slowly through the thicket, pushed on by the prodding of his gun in my back.
Chapter 2
Outside the barracks, an exhausted Laila was sitting on the ground. A gamekeeper in a light suede jacket had brought her in and was now towering beside her, waiting for her to get up. Her clothes were soaked through and clinging to her body, but this only accentuated her slender figure.
′′Vogue, are you going to grow roots here?′′ Jason asked sarcastically, pushing me forward again. ′′Or are you just waiting for your redhead to drop dead?′′
A funny nickname, I noted mindlessly. Vogue. A dandy. The nickname seemed to fit; with his neat hair and leather gloves, he looked completely out of place in the woods. He grabbed Laila by the scruff of her neck and with a jerk he pulled her to her feet. To my right one of the hunters emerged from the thicket, the ugliest of the hunters, the cowboy. Snezhana was limping after him, her T-shirt torn and her makeup smeared.
′′Hey you, with the firm ass!′′ The fat man gave Laila a salacious look, and when she looked up at him with tearful eyes, he sent her an airy kiss and a promise, stroking his balls: ′′You're next.′′
Laila went hysterical and Vogue had to practically drag her into the barracks. Snezhana was being pushed by a shaggy-haired gamekeeper in a long cloak with greasy sleeves. He looked as if he had last bathed a month ago, assuming he even knew how to bathe at all.
′′Outcast, did you mess with her under the bushes?′′
′′She's not my type,′′ the dirty-haired man snorted, appreciating Jason's joke. ′′Stu's the one who decorated her.′′
When the cowboy heard his name, he laughed contently.
′′Did you let her go or did she get away?′′ Jason shifted his gaze from Stu to Snezhana, as if trying to imagine how anyone could have missed such a simple target.
′′Her down payment was enough for my first time.′′
′′Do you want me to send the video?′′ Outcast chuckled. ′′I'm going to watch it on long, boring nights.′′
The cowboy nodded and laughed again.
′′How did you manage it?′′ I asked Snezhana in Russian, still not understanding.
′′Orally,′′ she snapped.
′′What?′′ I gasped, unable to believe my own ears. ′′You gave him…′′
′′…a blowjob,′′ Snezhana hissed. And mistaking my silence as interest, she added arrogantly: ′′He liked it, so he let me go. He said I'd have to come up with something more original next time.′′
The squeamishness on my face infuriated her.
′′What would you do, you fucking righteous girl? Would you die rather than take it in your mouth?′′
That was a fair rebuke. I have no idea what I would have done to save my skin.
In the barracks it turned out that we were the last ones caught. The rest of the ′contestants′ had already been brought in and chained to the walls. So that's what the brackets are for! The bed could be moved or broken, freeing the handcuffs. Ripping the metal out of the log was more difficult. Jason checked to see if my new bracelet was tight by twisting it around my wrist. It scratched my skin, but I held back a groan. As soon as the door closed behind the gamekeepers, I checked the length of the chain, it allowed me to