by A. Anders
I barely made it in time. From behind a tree, I watched Bob enter the clearing. He stared at my mound, confused. Getting closer, he examined it. Following the destruction, he was about to look up and see me, but I quickly leaned away.
I retrieved my gun from my waistband. It sat comfortably in my hand. I knew I could do it. I could get him before he got me, but what would I gain? If shooting him released his flag, it would make it free for anyone walking by. That didn’t do me any good.
I checked my gun’s display. Three minutes had gone by. I only had three bullets left.
I returned the pistol to the back of my pants and waited. Again peeking out from behind the tree, I saw that he was almost on me. Taking a deep breath, I got ready.
When I stepped out, I was two feet in front of him. He was startled. I swung for his chin and hit him, but Bob was big. The blow barely shook him.
Moving fast, I grabbed his wrist, the one that held the gun. I spun. With my back to him, I elbowed him in the neck. I thought he staggered back, but he didn’t. Before I could react, his bicep had locked around my throat.
I had made a rookie mistake. I was out of practice. Bob was a large man, and I hadn’t accounted for that. But Bob had made a mistake as well. He had turned this fight into a battle of weight, and that was to his disadvantage.
Lifting my feet off the ground, I shifted his weight forward. When he stepped to regain his balance, I stuck my foot between his legs. Tripping him, I grabbed his arm. As he fell onto me, I threw the big man over my back.
Bob let go of my neck and hit the ground like a sack. The air bellowed from his lungs. He was dazed. I stepped over him, withdrew my gun, and aimed.
I caught myself when I realized that my instincts had taken over. Looking down, I saw where the barrel was pointed. It was at his head. I was going to kill him. I didn’t want to do that.
Options flew through my mind. Each was more lethal than the next. I didn’t want to do any of them. But when his gun suddenly appeared, pointed at my head, I only had time to react.
Without thinking, I lunged for his wrist. Twisting it, he dropped his gun into my hand. With him squirming to get away, I pointed his gun at him and pulled the trigger. The gun fired, and Bob groaned.
Knowing the fight was over, my senses snapped back. I was again in complete control, but I wasn’t sure what I had done. Fearing the worst, I searched Bob’s body for the wound, hoping it wasn’t fatal.
It was his right shoulder. All I had done was defend myself. With a little magic dust, he was going to be as good as new. I sighed in relief.
With Bob disarmed and wounded, I realized that his flag would be loose. If anyone was going to get it, it may as well be me.
I left Bob on the ground and crossed the clearing. Moving quickly through the woods, I fumbled with the display on Bob’s gun. It was showing the number of shots remaining. He had two, but I needed the map that led back to his flag.
Finding it, I pointed the barrel in front of me. An arrow appeared on the map. I followed it. As I did, I checked the shots in my gun. I still had three left.
I arrived at the Bob’s mound seconds too late. Brad was retrieving Bob’s flag. He must have been thinking that it was his lucky day.
I lifted a gun and aimed it at Brad. He was in my sights. I could have taken him out so easily. I could have shot him once and disarmed him. I then could have taken Bob’s flag and then used Brad’s gun to find Brad’s flag. It would have put me in the lead.
As I watched Brad climb the mound, I lowered the gun. I didn’t want to do it. Sadly, Brad was the closest thing I had here to a friend. I wasn’t about to snipe him from the woods.
Yes, I knew that Brad probably didn’t feel the same about me. He wouldn’t hesitate to shoot me if the situation was reversed. Perhaps this sort of thing was exactly why the producers hadn’t expected me to survive. But… umm… Ah hell!
I lifted Bob’s gun, took aim, and pulled the trigger. Gunfire exploded. To my surprise, it wasn’t from me. The hammer on my pistol hadn’t discharged.
I looked up at Brad. With Bob’s flag in hand, he was scurrying for the woods. Gray was two hundred feet behind him. He had shot at Brad and missed. Now Gray was chasing him towards my home base.
Gray was a man I had no problem shooting. Taking aim, I reconsidered. Gray was the better marksman, and it looked like he already had a flag. It must have been Thorin’s.
Maybe instead of chasing after both of them, I should find Brad’s flag and wait for Gray to do what he did best. After all, wasn’t that the best way to survive this game, by using brains instead of bullets?
I turned on the map on both guns. I allowed them to point me to each of their home bases. Assuming that all of the bases were arranged in a circle, and that Brad’s was the next one over, I again entered the woods. It didn’t take long for me to find a concrete mound that looked exactly like the previous two.
Considering the flags that had already been captured, the one in front of me had to belong to either Brad or Gray. I considered yanking it out of the mound like I had done my own. But thinking that I should, at least, pretend to play by the rules, I got comfortable and waited for a gunshot.
I didn’t have to wait long, though. I heard three quick shots and then a fourth. After that, I reached up and effortlessly collected the flag.
My guess was that Gray had chased Brad to my mound. Slowed by the confusing destruction, their shootout happened there. Brad emptied his cartridge, missing Gray. With his competitor out of bullets, Gray walked in, shot Brad, and stripped him of his gun and flag.
With Brad’s gun, Gray was probably headed here next. With Brad’s flag gone, he would race to the only remaining flag, his own. That meant that I had to make a decision; either I would ambush him here or at his home base.
I looked down at my guns’ displays. Bob’s gun had no shots left while mine had two. My extra shot had to come from retrieving the flag. That meant that with all of the shots that I had heard fired, Gray had only one shot left, at most.
Even better news than that, Gray’s remaining shot was on a timer. He only had three minutes to use it. It could take him half that time to get here. By the time he arrived at his home base, he would definitely be disarmed while I would still have a shot left.
Realizing that made my decision easy. I would ambush him at his home base. Running into the woods, I was confident that I was about to win the challenge.
What I didn’t anticipate, however, was how long it would take me to find his mound. I thought that I could just continue in a circular direction. That was a bad plan. Why? Because the mounds weren’t equal distances apart.
Instead of facing Gray with an advantage, I had wasted my two shots wandering through the woods. Considering his display would quickly lead him home, by the time I found his flag, he would by lying in wait. Great!
I was two hundred feet away when I finally spotted Gray’s flag. Its yellow cloth whipped back and forth taunting me. My heart thumped soundly, but this time it wasn’t overwhelming. It was a welcoming feeling. How many times had I been crouched behind a tree or rock planning my assault on a target? I had forgotten what it felt like.
I hid behind a tree and stared at the flag. What would I do if I were on a battlefield? I wondered. I would have sent men to flank him while I attacked head on.
Okay. Well, that wasn’t an option. I had to work with what I had. What did I have? My guns were empty, and he was somewhere out there, waiting for me.
The element of surprise, that’s what I had. And with his guns timed out, I also had a level playing field.
I moved in fifty feet, ensuring that my flanks were clear. I didn’t know where he was hiding, but it had to be close enough to counter an assault on his home base.
Screw it! I thought. The hell with tactics. I’m just gonna walk up and get the flag. What can he do? I would welcome a little hand-to-hand combat.
“Gray, you out there?” I yelled.
He offered no resp
onse.
“You know what I want, right? And I think that there’s nothing you can do to stop me.”
I was taking a risk by talking, but I needed to draw him out.
“I have all of the flags you need, including my own. You want them? You’re gonna have to come and get them.”
Prepared for anything, I stood up slowly and looked around. I wanted to see movement. I needed to know where he was.
Bang! Just as I stepped forward, I heard a shot. Dust flew up beside me, and I crouched behind a shrub.
How the hell could he still have shots? All of the guns should have been timed out.
Bang! Another shot. The shrub just behind me shook.
Now I knew which direction he was shooting from. I stood up and ran. A third and fourth shot. I again dove behind a tree.
Of course! I thought. Mustache Gray was a gun dealer. If anyone would know how to hack a gun’s safety program, it would be him.
Another damn rookie mistake? I was likely to get myself killed at this rate. I had truly gone soft. No more, though. I was ready to win.
Twelve shots. That was the most he could have between his three guns. Two shots were fired when he took down Thorin. Four shots were fired when he took down Brad. He just fired four more. And considering that he probably got a bonus shot for each of the two captured flags, he had a maximum of four shots left.
The guns were small and not very accurate. With the element of surprise and a little luck, it was worth taking a few shots from out of range. But with only four shots, his goal now would be to wait until I was within 75 feet.
I considered what his potshots had told me about his position. They told me that he was at ground level and that he was due north. That meant that I could still make an assault on his flag without venturing too deep into his range.
As my heart raced, I again felt alive. It wasn’t that I had missed being shot at. What I missed was making decisions that mattered. A part of me had died working as a corporate recruiter. Here, though, I was the Ford that I remembered. I liked having him back.
I perched on my toes and sprinted off. The branches whipped across me. Shots fired. Two of them. Both missed. He had two left. No more. They would have to be good.
I dove. Gray was too late. I was behind the mound. His flag few an arm’s length away. If only I could just reach up and take it… Or, maybe I could.
I quickly reached up and clutched the flag. I yanked. It wouldn’t release. I tugged until I heard a gunshot.
I was hit. Where? The face. How?
I again crouched behind the mound. Touching my cheek, I didn’t find blood. I found bits of concrete. Gray had been aiming for my head. It was a kill shot and he missed.
He now had one shot left. He wasn’t going to risk missing again.
I moaned as if I had been hit. I needed to draw him in. It worked. I could hear him approaching.
He knew where he had aimed. He knew that he had tried to kill me. So if I fell onto the ground, I knew what he would think.
I waited behind the mound. I needed him close. I didn’t want him taking another long distance shot.
I could hear him coming. He was close. Ten feet at the most. It was time. I had to fall. He had one shot left. He wouldn’t fire unless he needed to.
I fell on my back with my hand on my head. My eyes were closed. I could hear him breathing. He was over me, his gun pointed at me. I knew it. Here was my last chance. It had to be now.
I opened my eyes, staring into the barrel. He was going to shoot me again. I kicked hard, sweeping his legs. He fell.
I had the element of surprise, so I lunged forward. My fist connected with his wrist. He let go of the gun. He was in trouble.
We had been here before. It seemed like every battle ended with me against him, but this time, he had tried to kill me. That was a big mistake.
Remembering the bruises he gave me, I swung my arm, connecting my elbow with his ear. Not giving him time to react, I planted the heel of my palm on his chin. He was stunned.
I didn’t have to draw this out, though. I just needed to win.
I rolled off him and retrieved his gun from the ground. There was only one way that I was going to end this game. I had to shoot him. I knew that if I didn’t get rid of Gray now, he was going to get rid of me later. So the one thing I could do was end him.
I lifted the gun, took aim, and pulled the trigger. I could feel the hammer falling, but at the last moment, my hand jerked. It felt like someone hit it, even though I knew that no one had.
Gray screamed. The bullet hit him in the shoulder. It was a clean shot. Nothing but flesh. Perhaps I would regret not finishing it then, but I decided that I wasn’t going to make it easier for the producers to kill us.
Staring at him, I tossed the gun aside. I leaned down, retrieved the flags tucked into his waist and then turned my back on him. Yeah, I turned because I had to go collect the remaining flag, but I also wanted to deliver a message. I wanted him to know that he wasn’t a threat to me. And I really wanted to rub it in.
But reaching for the flag, I had a thought. What if I had miscounted? What if Gray still had a bullet left? He would use it now. After defying the odds countless times, I would be killed by my own childish bravado. Who was the idiot now?
I deserved to be shot. You can add idiots to the list of sorry people that God looks after because the shot never came. I had gotten away with this final act of arrogance like I had so many others over the past five years. It was like I was trying to die. But no more.
I reached up, collected the flag and won the challenge. The pawns then entered the field and scattered through the trees. They were off to offer triage. I was glad to see that.
When Rose found me sitting on Gray’s mound, her eyes said it all. She had seen everything. I guessed that watching men shoot each other at her request was a little unnerving. At least, I hoped it had been.
Rose followed me as I checked on Gray and Bob. They were both fine, as I knew they would be. After them, we checked on Thorin and Gray.
It seemed that Gray hadn’t shown Brad the same courtesy that I had shown him. Gray had shot Brad three times. The pawn rushed to extract one of the bullets, the one that was two inches from his heart.
It was hard to determine Gray’s intent just from his shot placement. Certainly, if Gray had wanted to kill Brad, he would have shot him in the head. At close range, death would be guaranteed, but he hadn’t.
Looking at Thorin, it was clear that Gray wasn’t on a killing spree. Thorin’s only wound was in his leg. From what I could see, Gray was close enough to touch him when he fired. The angle of entry was so high that the wound almost looked self-inflicted.
No matter how and why everyone had been shot, the most important thing was that, like always, everyone would be alright. I could now relax. So, taking Rose’s hand, we followed our pawns into the woods headed for our private date.
“Another swim with the sharks?” I asked trying to lighten the mood.
She chuckled. “No. This time it’s a nature walk.”
“How does that work exactly?”
“What? Walking? You just put one foot in front of the other,” Rose said before flashing her first smile of the day.
“Okay, smartass. No. I meant the group dates. Are you the one who chooses who goes on them?”
“Yeah. That’s me.”
“And the private activities afterward?”
“After I’m told the challenge, my pawn shows me a list of activities to choose from. I was hoping that you were gonna win, so I thought that a nature walk would give us the best chance to talk.”
“You were cheering for me, huh?”
“Maybe,” she said with a blush.
No matter what else was going on, it felt good to know that Rose wanted to spend time with me. I could guess what Rose wanted to talk about, though. And unfortunately, we couldn’t truly talk as long as our two chaperones were with us.
With Rose’s hand still in mine, I
leaned down and whispered into her ear. “Do you think you can keep up with me?”
“Do you think you can keep up with me?” she retorted.
With a firm grip on my hand, Rose started running. I had no choice but to run with her. She was fast, but the pawns were faster.
As we ran, I realized why she had chosen to make our last date a swim. It was similar to the reason she kept her cabin messy. Rose craved privacy. It seemed like a strange trait for the heroine of a game show.
I considered our options for escape. We could run two or three miles to the fence, then hop over, hoping that we didn’t run into any panthers. Or, we could head skyward.
“Quick. Up there,” I said pointing at a giant tree whose branches circled it like stairs.
Rose climbed as quickly as she ran. I was impressed. I wouldn’t have guessed that she was athletic. Maybe she used to be a tomboy. Who could tell? All I knew was that I was looking up at her ass as she climbed, and it was the best view on the island.
We didn’t stop climbing until we were thirty feet in the air. I suspected that the pawns had cameras and microphones in them, but if we whispered, we had a chance that they wouldn’t hear us.
“Do you see that view?” Rose asked.
“I’ve seen better,” I said with a sly smile.
“I know that you’re talking about my ass, you jerk,” she said, hitting my arm playfully.
“Hey, the heart wants what it wants.”
“Yeah, I’m sure it’s your heart that wants it.”
I laughed. I had to admit, she had me. Finally alone, I wondered if I could have her… without falling out of the tree.
“So, what were you holding back from everyone last night?” she asked me, getting serious.
“What makes you think that I was holding something back?”
“Because you’ve been holding stuff back since our first conversation.”
“Oh, that’s right. You thought I was a plant from the show. You still think that?”
Rose smiled as if she did.
“Come on. Seriously?”