The Trap (The Hunt 3)

“No,” I say. “The girl comes. That’s non-negotiable. ”

“I said we’ll give you the boy—”

“No deal, then. ”

He glares at me, his eyes smoldering in their sockets. “Very well,” he says, his voice tinged with resentment. “You can have the girl. But we’ll keep the boy here. ”

In my peripheral vision, someone moves behind the glass. A tall, broad-shouldered silhouette—the chief advisor—is rushing to the side, where he picks up a boxy contraption that’s attached by a curly cord to a wall panel.

“Your Rulership?” His voice booms into the room through a PA system.

“Turn down the volume before you blast out my eardrums!” the Ruler yells.

“Sorry, Your Rulership. ” When the chief advisor next speaks, his voice is softer yet clipped and anxious. “We ought not send out the girl, Your Rulership. For that matter, let me once again reiterate my advice against sending out either of them. ”

“We’ve already discussed this, and the matter is closed. The boy is is staying. The girl is going. Now, don’t try to dissuade me. Simply make all the necessary preparations. ”

The chief advisor’s silhouette stands very, very still. “May I suggest an action that will further incentivize them to return?”

The Ruler, his patience running out, says quickly, “What, what is it?”

“Transport the young boy into Your Rulership’s chamber. Keep him in that empty tank until they return. Only then do we release him. ”

“No way—” I say.

“An excellent idea,” says the Ruler. “Make it happen. ”

“This may have been presumptuous, Your Rulership, but I’ve already remotely programmed him to come. He’s on his way. ” The chief advisor’s head bends down to look at the tablet. “In fact, he’s due to arrive here in four, three, two, and one. ”

And like clockwork, something starts to happen inside the empty tank. Air starts bubbling out of the submerged face mask. Then the floor disappears and a body is torpedoed into the tank from below. The tank is momentarily filled with a surge of bubbles; only after the floor is resealed does the liquid inside calm.

David is scrambling within, his head snapping from side to side, his arms swinging, legs kicking in panic. I rush over, start slapping the outside glass. “David! The mask, put the mask over your mouth!”

His eyes meet mine, and I see the panic and raw fear swimming in them.

“The mask, David!”

He finally understands. He grabs it, pulls the strap over his head. He sucks in huge, desperate gulps, his pale, thin chest ballooning with need and relief.

The chief advisor’s words, though whispered, blare through the room’s speakers. “The boy will remain in the tank until you return. After you both return. ”

“After you’ve successfully killed the hunter girl, of course,” the Ruler adds.

David’s breathing steadies. But not his composure. His eyes are agog with fear. I imagine what it must be like for him: suddenly floating in a glowing liquid, confined inside a tank, a mob of duskers gawking at him nearby, the Ruler bizarrely tied up mere meters from him. No wonder his arms begin to lash about, his legs kicking the curved glass wall around him.

“David!” I shout, not sure if he can even hear me through the glass. When he looks at me, eyes wrecked with despair, a resolve fills me like molten gold. “I’ll come back for you, David. I won’t desert you. I. Will. Come. Back. For. You. ”

Bubbles push out of his face mask as he starts hyperventilating. There’s nothing more I can do but press my hands against the tank. He places his own hands on the glass opposite mine.

The Ruler speaks from behind me. “We’re running out of time. You must depart immediately, I’m afraid. Wish we had more time to chat. ”

I turn around, face him. Anger brews deep in me.

“We’ve already made the arrangements,” he continues. “You’ll be transported to the outside via your enclave. There’ll be a horse waiting for you there. It’s been prepped for the two-hour gallop to the metropolis, and loaded with all the supplies and weaponry you could possibly need. A few bottles of water, too, because we know your needs. Oh, one more thing. In a small pouch tied to the saddle, you’ll find a TextTrans. It’s linked up with Epap’s. Just in case. ”

“And what about the girl?”

“I’ll see to it that she’s transported outside immediately. There won’t be time to prep another horse for her. The two of you will have to ride double. ”

A pounding on the glass behind me. David is kicking at it, trying to get my attention. Then his eyes lock on mine with understanding. But instead of panic, a strange clarity fills them.

“Let me tell you what will happen in the event you fail your mission, or fail to return here,” the Ruler continues. “I will prolong the boy’s existence in the tank as long as possible. ”

David reaches up and pulls the face mask off. I shake my head at him, but suicide by drowning is not what he has in mind. He pushes against the glass with both arms, works his body downward until our faces are level.