Mack frowns. They hadn’t been told that detail before. It seems important. Why, if only two people per day get out, did they have to keep hiding if two had already been found?
Ava seems to be wondering the same thing. She opens her mouth, but Linda neatly cuts her off by emphatically clapping her hands together once. “Now, if you need anything, leave a note on the table. An alarm will give you your thirty-minute warning in the morning. I’ll see you—” She pauses, then tries to smile. Mack wonders if she’s sad over Isabella getting out, since they might have bonded over an affinity for pantsuits. “I’ll see most of you tomorrow night. Sleep well.”
With a roar of her ATV, Linda disappears into the night.
“Fuck, that’s cold,” Jaden says.
“Maybe it’s like The Bachelor, and you only get goodbyes if you make it further so the audience is invested in you,” the toothpaste commercial says.
“What audience?” beautiful Ava mutters, still looking at the pavilion roof as though she might have missed a camera.
The prank girl—Sydney, Linda called her—slumps on her cot. The cot next to her, and another in the middle, have been stripped of belongings. “I didn’t even get his number.”
“I’m sure you can get it from Linda next time she’s here.” The toothpaste commercial sits next to her, putting an arm around her shoulder.
Sydney winces at the contact. “I’m taking all the sunscreen tomorrow.”
Everyone splits up, getting ready for bed. Even though she spent the whole day lying still, Mack is exhausted. She tries to reach the sore spot on her back, but it’s impossible.
“I can get that,” Ava says. She pauses with her hands outstretched. “If you want.” Ava has come from the shower. She smells like water on clean skin. Mack wants to say no, needs to say no, but her head betrays her by nodding. Ava gets to work and then Mack couldn’t say no even if she tried.
“God, Mack, I’ve never met anyone so tense, and I’ve been on bomb disposal squads.” Ava laughs softly. Her hands are not soft. They’re strong and searching, finding the tenderest places.
“Hey,” beautiful Ava says, joining them. Mack instantly loathes her presence, wanting her to leave. But Ava doesn’t stop massaging as beautiful Ava lowers her voice. “Did you guys see any cameras?”
“What?” Mack peels her eyes open. Beautiful Ava leans closer.
“Cameras. Did you see any? Because they said this might be a show. But none of us have been filmed or interviewed, and I haven’t seen a single camera out there.”
“Maybe they’re hidden,” Ava says. “Or maybe the seekers have them. GoPros or whatever.”
“Yeah, I thought of that. But then what role would we even have? It doesn’t make sense to frame a show that way. You’d focus on the people vying for the prize, not the people trying to find them. Maybe you could do both, but you’d definitely have to film the hiders.”
Ava stops kneading. They both look to Mack for an opinion.
“Dry run,” she offers. “Seeing if the mechanics of the game work.” She hopes if she can get this conversation over, Ava will touch her again.
“I guess,” beautiful Ava says, frowning. “Seems like an expensive test run if they aren’t even practicing shots or forming a narrative.”
“That we can see,” Mack corrects.
“Yeah. I guess. Keep your eyes peeled for cameras tomorrow, okay?”
“We’ll tell you. Unless you get out,” Ava says, cheerfully.
Beautiful Ava glares. “I’m not getting out.”
Brandon returns from the bathrooms, and beautiful Ava stands. Mack, now gloriously loose and comfortable and pretty certain Ava won’t be doing any more, just wants to go to sleep.
“Yo, anyone else realize Atrius isn’t back yet?” The clipboard guy peers into the darkness. He’s changed into a fresh polo shirt, bold blue with some sort of company logo over his heart. “That’s cheating. He’s probably looking for the book thing, or scoping the best spots.”
A few competitors voice grumbling agreement.
“Like he can even see anything out there,” Ava counters. “Besides, it’s not hard to find good hiding spots.”
“Tell that to Logan.” Sydney walks over to the spotlight and shuts it off.
“Hey,” the toothpaste commercial says. “How will he find us?”
“I don’t really care. He wants to stay out for an advantage? Let him stay out all night.” Sydney stomps back to her cot.
Ava stands, stretching.
“Thank you,” Mack says, the words like an offering placed on the altar of an unknown god. She doesn’t know what else to do, how to respond to kindness. “I can get you?” She’s never massaged anyone. But she doesn’t like being in debt, doesn’t like the way she already misses Ava’s hands on her. She can’t owe someone she’s so inclined to like.
“Nah, you look beat. Get some rest. Another day of perfect stillness ahead of you.” Ava’s grin is strained. Mack realizes how tired the other woman looks.
“You sleep at all?”
“Don’t feel safe,” Ava says as she walks to her own cot.
* * *
—
Mack wakes in the middle of the night. She tiptoes silently to the bathroom. Hushed voices catch her attention on her way back to bed. Two figures sit on the edge of the camp. At first she suspects beautiful Ava and Jaden. Then she realizes the man is crying silently.
“It’s okay,” Ava—Mack’s Ava—murmurs. “I’ll sit with you until morning.”
Mack can’t tell who the man is. But the way he’s curled around himself tells a story Mack is familiar with.
“You shouldn’t,” he says. LeGrand.
“Got nothing better to do.”
Mack feels a tug from the center of her chest. LeGrand is in pain. She wants to keep vigil with him. With Ava.
She goes back to her cot.
DAY TWO
Mack beats the alarm. She leaves yesterday’s clothes folded under her cot and snags an extra blanket from the supply table. It’s lightweight, dark color. Perfect.
“Hey, are you allowed to use props?” Jaden asks.
The clipboard guy sits up, rubbing his eyes blearily. “That doesn’t seem fair.”
“Nothing in the rules against it.” The jewelry woman shifts, her pretty heart necklace falling free of her tank top. She slowly puts on all her rings and bracelets, like suiting up with armor. Checks her bandage. It’s seeped a bit, but not too much. “Besides, one blanket is hardly an advantage.”
Mack feels bad now for not remembering what her name is.
“We don’t know that,” Jaden says.
“Then take one, too,” Ava snaps. Her eyes are red, bruised hollows beneath them. She hasn’t slept at all. “Don’t give Mack shit.”
“Speaking of shit.” Jaden nods to Atrius, who’s at the table, eating, beanie pulled low. “Where were you last night?”
Atrius shrugs. “Exploring.”
“That’s cheating!”
Atrius grins. “Sorry, I mean, I got lost. Someone turned off the spotlight.”
“Yeah, fuck you.” Sydney brushes her hair with vicious force. “If you win, I’ll file a formal complaint.”
Atrius’s grin warms something in Mack. He so genuinely doesn’t care. She heads to the table—blanket in her bag—and nibbles, picking her supplies for the day. Atrius’s hands and arms are covered in a fine mist of dried paint.