The Prey (The Hunt 2)

The teacher walks over to where the dusker is hunkered. She snaps another GlowBurn, holds it toward the dusker. “See how the light of the GlowBurn bothers it,” she says as the dusker scampers away, arms shielding its eyes. “Duskers are averse to almost every light we know. They cower before even the light of a full moon.”

“How did you get this dusker?” Sissy asks, her voice tense.

“No questions,” the teacher says. “We don’t permit questions in the Vastnarium.”

“Why not?”

A pause. “That’s just the way it is.” This time, it’s not the teacher who speaks. The voice is masculine. The elder. Standing by the doors, recessed in the shadows.

“I just want to know—”

“Carry on,” the elder directs the teacher, his voice loud and dismissive.

Epap leans over to Sissy. “This is the best part,” he whispers excitedly.

The other teacher walks down the aisle, lugging a heavy burlap sack that is dripping with blood. She walks along one side of the glass chamber and by a door that I notice for the first time. For a reason: it’s barely visible, no more than a rectangular outline etched into the glass, a thin metal handle on the outside. An electronic key lock stands in front of it, on the outside.

I jolt in my seat. “No way! Tell me you’re not going to open that door.”

The teacher stops lugging the sack for a second. “Of course not. Don’t be ridiculous.” She starts pulling the sack again, past the door.

“Does that door even work, then?” I ask.

“Huh?” the teacher says, huffing with exertion.

“That door. With the keypad.”

“It’s secure, don’t worry. Always locked. Only the top-level elders know the combination.”

“What’s it used for? Isn’t it way too risky to—”

“No questions!” The elder’s voice booms loudly like a slammed door.

The teacher lugs the sack to the far corner. The dusker, observing, cocks its head and rushes over to a tiny square pool of water on the ground pressed right up against the glass. I hadn’t noticed this small pool before. Its watery surface is flat as a mirror, an exact square with sides no wider than three feet. The dusker stops right in front of it, kicked dirt falling into and rippling the surface of the pool.

“Duskers love human flesh,” the teachers says, “but they will also ravage any kind of animal flesh. Today, we have pig flesh.”

And that’s when I notice yet another square pool of water. This one is on the outside of the glass chamber, right by the feet of the teacher, identically dimensioned as the inside pool. It lies on the other side of the glass as if the two pools are perfect mirror images of one another. The teacher lifts the sack directly over this outside square pool, drops it with a splash. To my surprise, the sack is swallowed up, altogether disappearing, before bobbing back up like a cork.

“This is actually a U-shaped well,” the teacher explains to Sissy and me, “with one vertical shaft descending on the inside of the glass chamber, and the other vertical shaft descending here on the outside. These two very narrow shafts drop ten meters down where they join underground, forming a U. The openings, as you can see, are here at my feet, and”—she takes a glance inside—“at the dusker’s feet. This U-shaped well is completely filled with water. Because duskers can’t swim—they could drown in a puddle, stupid things—it’s perfectly safe. In fact, so averse are duskers to water, many speculate that this U-shaped well is the most secure portion of the chamber. In my book, it’s absolutely genius, so simple yet brilliant. It enables us to feed the dusker larger items—like these chunks of pig flesh—that don’t fit through the tiny slot.”

The teacher grabs a long pole from under a row of seats, and plunges it into the well. She uses the pole to push the sack down the well. When the pole is almost fully submerged, she leans it at an angle toward the glass, jiggles it. Satisfied, she pulls the pole back up. “I’ve pushed the sack over to the other shaft. It’s floating up the vertical shaft on the inside now. All we need to do is wait. Shouldn’t be long now.”

The dusker is on all fours as it stares intently into the watery opening, its chin almost touching the water. Its body hums with anticipation; strands of saliva drool into the water. The light begins to fade and the teacher snaps a few more GlowBurns. The dusker flinches against the light but does not otherwise move. It has thrown its long raven hair over its head in a way that obscures its face. As if to hide in shame. Then its hips rise into the air as its head dips even closer to the water. In a blink, it plunges an arm into the water, all the way to its armpit, its face twisted to the side an inch above the water surface.

Then the bag is grabbed out of the water, and the dusker girl is ripping through the hessian sack material. Sprays of drool and droplets of water fling in the air and splatter against the glass. The dusker snarls and plunges her face into the cold wet meat.

And suddenly Sissy is on her feet and walking out. The elder by the exit doors tries to stop her but she brushes his arm aside. I hear doors slamming open, see a surge of light tide in and out. By the time I catch up with her, she’s lifting her head to the sky, taking in deep gulps of breath, eyes squinting against the brilliant light.

But then Epap is pushing past me, rushing to her side.

“Sissy, what’s the matter?” he asks.

She turns from him. “Leave me alone!”

“What’s the matter?” He’s genuinely confused. His eyes dart between Sissy and the Vastnarium. And then at me. “What did you do to her? Did you touch her? In the dark?”

“What are you talking about?” I say.

“No, seriously. Did you touch her?”

“Stop it, Epap!” Her voice is loud but resigned. “Nobody touched me.”

“Sissy?” he says.

She doesn’t answer, starts to walk away, her legs uncharacteristically wobbly. Epap jogs up to her, places his hands uncertainly on her shoulders. She squirms out of his frail hold, swipes his thin arms away.

That sets him off. “What is it, Sissy?”

She spins toward him. “How could you do that to me? Why did you take me in there?”

“What?”

“How could you possibly think that’d be something I’d want to see?”

“No, no, you don’t understand. It was perfectly safe. That glass is like the Dome glass. It’s impenetrable. And the door is securely locked. As for the well, you heard the teacher, it’s full of water; duskers can’t get through that. I’d never put you in harm’s way, Sissy, you know that—”

Rage burns off her face. “That

’s not what I’m talking about!”

“Sissy! I don’t understand, Sissy.” He runs a hand through his hair. “I thought you’d like it. Why wouldn’t you? After all they’ve put us through, it’s like take that you chumps, see how you like being in a glass prison! See how you like being gawked at like animals!” And now he’s almost shouting. “Why wouldn’t you like that?”

With a shake of her head, she walks over to me, and pulls me along by the elbow. “Will you come with me?” she says softly. “We need to get to the bottom of all this.”

Epap is bewildered. He doesn’t know what to do with his dangling arms, or his flopping head, or the bits of himself crashing to the ground. His eyes fall on Sissy’s hand on me, and when his eyes flick up to meet mine they are sharp with a pained clarity.

“What is it about him?” he says, jabbing a thumb in my direction. He strides after us when she doesn’t answer. “What is it about him that has you turned on? He only has to whistle a tune and you’re instantly panting for him.” Epap grabs her elbow, spins her around, tearing her hand away from my arm. Sissy crooks her arm back, is about to launch a fist at his face. Break his nose, black him out.

But she holds back. Her clenched fists tremble at her side.

Epap is undaunted. “Look at who the Mission girls are clamoring after. Look at who they’re shooting eyes at. Look at who they’re blushing over. It’s me, Sissy! Me! Not him! Haven’t you seen them, Sissy? Haven’t you seen the way they follow me, talk about me, look at me? Because maybe you should. Then you’ll stop taking me for granted. Then you’ll start to really see me.”

Sissy glares at him, her jawline hard.

“What must I do, Sissy? All those years—our whole lives—together, do they count for nothing? This new guy comes sauntering in and instantly you’re swooning over him. What does he have that I don’t? I twist and turn and bend over backwards for you, and you burn me in return. You burn me, Sissy.” He takes a step closer, crowding her space. But she doesn’t move, holds her ground. “Don’t you realize what I can give you? They all want me, but it’s you I want—you I’m willing to give everything.”