Authors: Brad Stevens
Mara reached the ground floor in little more than ten minutes. She peered around the front door, alert for signs of activity. From this position, the grassy square obscured her view of the other doorways, so her best option was to move as quickly as possible, hoping she didn't run headlong into a Hunter. Feeling especially glad she'd exchanged her skirt for a pair of jeans, she shot out of the building and raced towards the first block. Being outside in a place where every shadow concealed potential danger made her feel painfully exposed, and when she arrived at her destination, she tore through the entrance like a bullet, almost collapsing in the lobby. As she once again made her way through the debris, she recalled a few vague images from her dream of the previous night. Hadn't she dreamed about returning here? Perhaps her dreams were coming true. Her nightmares certainly were.
She decided to only climb up a few floors. There was no reason for the Hunter to return, and she'd be safe enough on the fifth floor while having a clear view of what was going on below. Exiting the stairwell, she walked towards those apartments that faced the building's front. All the doors were locked, so she forced open one situated in the middle of the corridor. She was astonished by how easily these flimsy structures gave way after a few hard kicks. The people who lived here must have been constantly plagued by burglars. No wonder they hadn't fought harder to prevent the banks repossessing their homes! Once inside the apartment, Mara walked directly over to the window and took up a position there. No more than twenty-five minutes had passed since she'd seen the Hunter enter the third block, so he'd most likely remain inside for another half hour. She patiently watched block three, and eventually saw the man emerge from the building, stand in the doorway looking around for a few seconds, and set off towards block four. She now recognised him as one of the thinner Hunters present at the initial meeting, possibly the one who'd shaken
Zong's hand. And here he was two days later, still without anyone to stick needles in. Poor guy! Mara smiled as he entered the next block. She knew he'd be in there for close to an hour, so she could momentarily relax her vigilance. She decided to take a look around the apartment. It contained the usual combination of blank walls and dust. The cupboards in the kitchen were empty, and there was no water in the toilet bowl. Mara felt thirsty. Hopefully, she'd be back in what she now thought of as her apartment soon enough.
Not wanting to remain ignorant of what was going on outside, she returned to the window. Another hour passed before the Hunter came into view again. Mara thought she could see the look of disappointment and frustration on his face as he approached block five.
“Get ready for some more frustration,” she thought as he made his way into the building where she'd been hiding earlier that day. She wondered if he'd give up after searching this block, or if he'd explore the Leaning Tower. That construction might be habitable, but climbing from floor to floor would surely prove extremely difficult - which in itself suggested a tempting hiding place. Mara didn't dare take her eyes off the door she'd last seen the Hunter disappear through, though it seemed he'd been gone well over an hour. Was it possible he'd discovered her hiding place? Perhaps, but so what? Fascinating as the room might have been, there was nothing to suggest recent occupation. Even the uniform hung over a chair could have been there for years.
Approximately ten minutes later, Mara noticed movement in the doorway. To her dismay, it was not the Hunter who emerged, but rather Isabella, the Hunt evader who had been escorted to the stadium by two police officers. The collar locked around her throat suggested she now had an even more unpleasant escort. Mara expected to see the Hunter appear behind her, but Isabella was followed by another captive, one with waist length hair. Mara hadn't got to know this draftee on the first day of the Hunt, but she recalled that her name was Susan, and remembered thinking her hair would be a liability in the arena. As if to prove this prediction's accuracy, Susan's hair was now being gripped by the Hunter as if it were a leash. The man held a
Taser in his other hand, and was pointing it directly at the terrified woman. He evidently only had one collar, but Susan clearly wasn't about to give him any trouble. He must be taking her back to the Hunters' block as a 'gift' for one of his fellow perverts. Was this the only communal activity these scum were capable of? Mara felt a shudder of horror. She'd now stood by helplessly as three of her comrades fell into the clutches of Hunters. She watched sadly as Isabella and Susan marched forward at the bidding of their captor. The group soon turned a corner and vanished from view.
Mara felt especially sorry for Isabella, who had been so terrified about the prospect of going on a Hunt that she'd hidden in an attic. Now she would spend the rest of the week being
subjected to precisely the kind of treatment she'd so dreaded, with a lengthy prison sentence waiting for her once the ordeal ended. What especially depressed Mara was the knowledge that Isabella and Susan had been hiding in the same block as her. If she'd realised this, she could have shared her discoveries with them, and perhaps even helped them avoid capture. Or was it more likely they'd have all been caught together? These women had undoubtedly grown complacent and neglected to keep a lookout. Not that Mara was in any position to judge: she'd only noticed the Hunter by sheer chance. Leaving aside the misfortune of being conscripted, she'd had an extraordinary run of good luck. She wondered how long it would last.
Mara kept watch by the window for approximately half an hour. She didn't see any further signs of movement, and decided it was time to start making her way 'home'. As she descended the stairs and crossed the lobby, she briefly considered using the vending machine located behind the building. The chances of its having already been staked out by another Hunter were minimal, but the risk wasn't worth taking. She'd manage to survive on wine. Stepping outside, she looked about cautiously. She could run around the grassy square in little more than a minute, but the consequences of being seen during that minute were unthinkable. Fighting the impulse to remain where she was, she took a deep breath and dashed towards block five. A few yards from her destination, she tripped over some rubble, narrowly avoided falling headfirst, and propelled herself by sheer momentum through the front door. She looked back to see if anyone had followed her, but she was alone.
Ascending the stairs, Mara pondered the wisdom of remaining in what was evidently prime hunting territory. Since the Hunter was returning to his cave with not one, but two prizes, it seemed reasonable to assume he'd inform his companions that these buildings had been thoroughly searched. Which probably meant Mara would be safe, or at least as safe as anywhere else in this hellish stadium. She despised herself for even thinking such things, but from a purely pragmatic perspective, every woman taken captive meant one less Hunter prowling the arena, so the longer she remained free, the less chance there was of her being discovered.
Mara soon reached the seventeenth floor, and returned to Apartment 1708, which didn't appear to have been disturbed. Hopefully, she wouldn't need to venture outside again until Friday. Here she was once more in a book-lined room she dared not leave. Home sweet home! But there were worse fates. Julie, Isabella and Susan were suffering one that very moment. Mara craved a glass of wine, but didn't want to get drunk again. She'd not eaten anything for more than twenty-four hours, but since she still felt slightly nauseous, she had no
desire for food. Perhaps she'd eat half the sandwich tomorrow. In the meantime, she needed something to distract her, and books were a much better drug than alcohol. Looking through the stacks, she came across an ancient edition of Jane Austen's
Mansfield Park
. She loved Austen, but didn't feel capable of tackling her complex prose right now. A paperback of something called
The Stand
stood out by virtue of its thickness. It was by Stephen King, a writer extremely popular towards the end of the previous century. Mara had never read him before, but she was attracted by the book's sheer length - one-thousand four-hundred and twenty-one pages! If this turned out to be good, it might last her the rest of the week. She settled down on the sofa, took one drink of wine - but only one - to slake her thirst, and began reading.
King's novel proved to be excellent, and Mara was soon engrossed in this epic about a handful of people who had survived a worldwide pandemic and were making their way across a devastated American landscape. It reminded Mara of her own journey through the ruins of Kilburn. But mostly she was grateful to escape into a fictional world occupied by characters whose problems seemed, at least for a while, more important than her own. Before she knew it, she'd read almost three-hundred pages, and the light was starting to fade. Mara looked up resentfully: she did not feel in the least tired, and if a light source had been available, she'd have continued reading for several hours. Using Mary's letter to mark her place, she put down the book and approached the window. The only light came from the Hunters' block. Mara shuddered as she thought of what must be going on there, of what was being done not only to Julie, but also to Susan, Isabella, and the other women who had surely been caught by now.
After drinking another glass of wine, Mara removed her clothes and climbed into bed. She wondered what Yuke was doing, and wished there was a way to let her know she'd just spent several hours reading. Yuke would have found that hilarious. As she thought of Yuke, Mara's right hand moved, almost of its own volition, until it was resting between her legs. She spent the next hour masturbating, thinking of her lover's body, imagining it there, pressing down on her. After she came, she turned on her side and slept soundly, as if safe in her own home. And that night, there were no dreams.
Chapter 10
Monday March 26th
Mara awoke refreshed. Her head was clear, and she looked forward to once again immersing herself in
The Stand
. Recent events had reminded her how dangerous it was to become complacent, but at the moment she seemed to be out of harm's way. A glass of wine would have to substitute for breakfast. She felt ravenously hungry, but thought it better to save the sandwich until later. Looking out the window, she noted how peaceful the area appeared. It was difficult to believe Hunters were pursuing her. Stretching out on the sofa, Mara returned to her book.
After spending five hours reading, she needed to stretch her legs. Leaving the building was obviously out of the question, so she decided to explore the other floors. Putting on her socks and trainers, she stepped out of the apartment and strolled along the corridor. Her footsteps echoed in the silence, and she momentarily felt as
if she were the last person on Earth, the final survivor of a holocaust which had wiped out all other life forms, leaving her to survive as best she could amidst the ruins of civilisation.
As she entered the stairwell, she looked over the balcony to make sure she was alone, and immediately noticed movement seven or eight floors below. A Hunter? Another woman seeking refuge? An animal? After a few seconds, the moving figure came into view, and though Mara could still not see it clearly, she recognised that glow made by the screen of a body heat detector. Mara had been prepared for something like this, and knew what course of action to take. She was obviously dealing with a Hunter going from floor to floor in search of prey. All Mara needed to do was wait until he entered a corridor. When he was out of sight, she could run down the stairs, hide on one of the lower floors he'd already searched, and remain there until he departed. Scared but confident, she peered down at the Hunter, praying he did not look up. But he was absorbed by the device in his hands. It seemed Mara's run of good luck hadn't yet been broken. Had she not decided to take a walk at that particular moment, this Hunter would certainly have caught her unawares. Mara expected him to exit the stairwell and investigate the corridor, but after staring at the detector for almost a minute, he ascended another flight of stairs. As she watched him, Mara felt fear surge through her. She now understood how the Hunter who had caught Susan and Isabella was able to search
an entire building in less than an hour. Apparently, the range of these detectors wasn't as limited as she'd supposed. The Hunter merely had to stand in a stairwell, point the device at a corridor, then move up to the next level once he'd determined nobody was hiding on that floor. Which meant Mara would have no opportunity to run past him without being observed.
She felt close to fainting, but as she gripped the banister, trying to steady herself, she had an idea. The Leaning Tower was next to this building. If she could find a way of accessing the roof, she might be able to jump onto the Tower and hide there. Without a second thought, she ran up the stairs as quietly as possible. On the top floor, she found a wall-mounted frame leading to a ceiling hatchway. She climbed up and tried to unseal the hatch, which at first appeared to be locked. She pushed with all her strength, and eventually the hatch swung open. Looking back to check that the Hunter wasn't in a position to observe her, she pulled herself onto the roof. Once more, she silently thanked Mary Green for unwittingly providing her with jeans: this was anot
her activity she'd have found difficult to perform in a skirt. Shutting the hatch behind her, she ran across the roof and looked out at the Leaning Tower.
What she saw made her sink to her knees in anguish. The roof of the Tower was nowhere near that of the building on which she stood. Trying to leap over the gap would be suicide. Her only remaining hope was that the Hunter might end his search at the top floor, and be unable to detect her from there. She was on the side of the building furthest from the stairwell, so she still had a chance. Ten long minutes passed as she stared at the hatchway, waiting for it to be thrown open. Perhaps her luck would last a little longer.