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Part 2
The far side of the parking lot presented a variety of paths leading across a field and into the woods. Many feet had traversed these paths. How many led to death? Probably all of them. Amelia watched Shara cut to the left. Should she follow her? Why not? Maybe she could learn something.
She followed the dark haired beauty into the deeper woods. Then, suddenly, Amelia lost sight of her. How did she do that? She stopped and glanced around, conscious of precious moments passing by. She checked her watch. 7:05. In fifteen minutes the hunters would be hot on her trail! She took off down the path again, trying to think of what she should do next. She was on her own!
Despite her training in bare feet, the forest floor presented endless tortures to her soles. Pebbles. Pine cone scales with their sharp needles. Dried branches stabbing into her skin. Soon she was leaving bloody footprints for her pursuers to follow. Oh God! She had to run faster!
It occurred to her that staying on a path would make it easy for her pursuers to follow. But how could she get off the path without leaving an obvious swath through the underbrush? She decided to keep running until her lungs gave out. Surely the hunters would not be running. They had a day and a half to find her. Her only hope was to build up enough of a lead to give her time to devise something clever. As opposed to what she was doing now.
Amelia took her mind off the burning pain in her lungs and the stabbing pains in her feet by reflecting on the amazing ease with which the world had shed a taboo that had been an unspeakable abomination for millennia. Her great grandfather had been alive during the transition, when the catastrophic effects of global starvation had prompted the rise of cannibalism — not in the jungles of Africa or New Guinea, but in the back alleys of the world's most advanced nations, spreading gradually to the desperate poor of every region on earth. It took about fifty years for the phenomenon to advance from the poorest neighborhoods, where the death of a friend or family member became the life-saving sustenance for those still living, to an everyday occurrence in thousands of cities and drought-blasted farming communities around the world. Ultimately it led to the legalization of cannibalism under strict government controls. Extreme over-population had outstripped the planet's ability to feed humanity, so it was only sensible, if not inevitable, that the very excess humanity be used to solve the problem. Human meat was now the most abundant protein source on earth and the cycle of propagation and consumption had been balanced.
But not without human pain. The free market had soon pounced upon the potential for untold profits arising from the harvesting of human meat, including such enterprises as the hunting lodges where young people risked themselves as game as a solution to their heavy indebtedness so that others could pay to indulge their passion for blood sport and sex. Of course, some hunts favored the quarry, pitching two or three hunters against five to eight runners. But the better the chances of surviving the Hunt, the smaller the prize. It was the abundance of desperation loans secured by human collateral in this crowded world, and the high cost of paying them off, that assured an ample and continuing supply of young men and women willing to go for the highest stakes at the worst odds. It was now common practice for parents to do what had been done to them, what Amelia's had done to her: sell their children to the NMS and option them back with a loan. Children had become valuable assets and ready collateral.
By 7:20 Amelia's lungs were on fire! She should have practiced long distance running more! The hunters were already on their way. Nevertheless, she had to stop; her legs were turning to rubber. As her breathing and heart slowed, her concentration sharpened. Watching and listening intently for the slightest hint of approaching hunters, she almost missed the gurgling of water off to the right of the trail. Now she could smell it as well! Her spirits soared and she began walking toward the sound.
It's about time I got off these trails , she thought as she picked her way carefully through heavy vegetation, trying not to make her exit from the beaten path too obvious. There seemed to be no painless place she could place her sore feet. She began to think again about how pleasant it would be to find a really concealed place and just curl up to wait out the thirty-six hours of the Hunt. But Shala's contemptuous dismissal of the idea kept spoiling the image. Why? What was intrinsically bad about a good hiding place? She checked her watch again — 7:22 — and remembered Shala tapping hers just as the Hunt Mistress opened the door to summon them. She thought at the time that Shala — experienced with the routine — simply knew their locker room time was up, that it was time to go. But now she suddenly thought of another explanation.
The watch. Hiding. Yeah, right! Shala had snorted. Of course! The GPS chip in the watch! If the Hunt sponsors could find her after the Hunt by honing in on the locator, why not the hunters during the Hunt? The possibility had not been mentioned during their orientation, but neither had they been informed that they were allowed to kill their pursuers. No wonder Shara had sneered. No wonder the damn watch was locked on. The minute she stopped moving she would be a sitting duck!
So, what did that mean? She had to keep running for 36 hours? Didn't the hunters stop for sleep at some time? Where did they sleep? Was there some kind of alarm that let them know when a particular quarry had been stationary a certain length of time? She had not seen night-vision goggles included in the equipment they were allowed to carry, but that could be another "unmentioned" detail.
Amelia felt the sharp edges of panic slicing away at her reason. She wanted to run blindly, fast and furiously, as long as she could, as far as she could! The panic was quickly whelmed by a feeling of hopelessness. She thought about her knife. She thought about the instant of pain she'd suffer as she sliced her wrists open, followed by the comforting peace of death. But that was foolish! She shook her head violently. If she were cornered and the situation were really hopeless, that would be soon enough to slit her wrists. She still had life. She still had hope.
Suddenly the stream emerged before her. She trotted into it, the cold water shocking her out of her doldrums. She stood, balancing on first one foot then the other, letting the frigid water soothe her injured soles and wash away the blood and dirt. She dropped to her hands and knees, put her lips to the water and drank deeply, amazed at how thirsty she was. She had known that hunger would also be an issue, but that packet of food that Shala had added to her knife belt was expensive! She had decided she could fast for 36 hours and save the money for her Baby License. Was it a foolish decision? Too late now for second guessing.
Amelia prostrated herself in the shallow stream, enjoying the wash of water past her naked flesh, cooling her body. She spread her legs to let the rushing stream tease the lips to her birth canal and the little pleasure button in its sheath, reminding her of the reason she had embarked on this journey through hell.
She began to plot her next move.
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