Chapter 2 – “Starting Line”
The mysterious man calling himself Mister Frost watched the familiar play of emotions across Mary’s and Eric’s faces: surprise, confusion, a little fear thrown in. He was delighted to see, however, that it was short lived, and they returned to their previous stoicism.
“Perhaps I should explain,” Frost offered. “Although it’s become a most cliché premise in film and other media, the idea of human beings as ‘The Most Dangerous Game’ is a most intriguing one. So intriguing, in fact, that there are individuals in the world who are quite willing to invest large sums of money in the pursuit of such… esoteric excitement.”
Eric grunted, disbelieving. “You’re telling us we’re going to be hunted like animals?”
“Oh no, Mister Umali, not like animals– that’s just the point. You’re going to be hunted like human beings.”
“Even if you are telling the truth,” said Mary, “what’s to stop us from turning you in to the cops?”
“I’ll answer your question with some of my own, Miss Patire. But you needn’t answer, as I already know the answers. Do you know who I really am? You must know by now that ‘Frost’ is a simple pseudonym. Do you know where you are? How you were brought here?”
Frost let a melodramatic pause go by. “If it’s a specific answer to your own question that you’re looking for, how about this: you already know that we’ve determined your identities; what could possibly stop us from ascertaining more of your personal information?” He laughed– a chilling sound. “I’ll save you both the suspense: if you attempt to contact any form of authority– the police, the FBI, the Boy Scouts– and your families will meet with unfortunate circumstances.”
They strained against their straps. “You bastard,” Eric spat.
“Be that as it may,” Frost continued, “it is true. You will play this game by our rules, and if– an only if– you survive for the predetermined amount of time, you’ll be rewarded and released.”
“You’ve just threatened our families’ lives,” said Mary, venomous, “why should we believe you’d do that?”
“There _is_ no guarantee, of course, but you have no choice. After we’ve finished here, you will each be escorted back to your respective domiciles to pick up only as many clothes and other necessities as will fit into the packs to be provided to you. Your escorts have very specific instructions as to what you are and are not allowed to take. Afterwards, you will be taken to a location in the city of our choosing, and then given a five-day head start during which you will not be harmed. At the end of exactly ninety hours, we will give your starting point to your first pursuer.”
“Just one at a time, huh?”
“We feel it give the target more of a sporting chance. I must be honest with you two– this is the first time we’ve allowed two individuals to… ‘run’ together. It should be most interesting.”
Frost stood again, and opened a desk drawer. He placed a pair of bulging envelopes on the desk. “To facilitate your head start, and your survival,” he said, gesturing to the envelopes. “One hundred thousand dollars cash each. Small, untraceable bills. If you live long enough to use it up, you’ll get more. Your pursuers are quite wealthy. Do be frugal with it, though.” He pushed a button on the desk’s surface, and the doors swung open. The nurses entered, and started unstrapping Eric and Mary.
Eric felt the last restraint loosen, and he vaulted forward at Frost. The man calmly brought up his hand, a tiny device clutched in his fingers. A single blue-white bolt of lightning arced from Frost’s taser to Eric’s body in mid-leap, and the young man dropped heavily onto the desk.
Shaking off her own nurse, Mary rushed to his side, shaking Eric by the shoulders. After a moment, with little response from him, she was restrained by the nurse again, while the other tugged a slowly recovering Eric to his feet.
“I assure you that Mister Umali will be quite all right in a few minutes, Miss Patire. I do hope that the consequences of your friend’s little outburst demonstrate to you both the seriousness of your situation.”
As she watched Eric regain his senses, Mary’s calm returned. “I only have one question, Mister Frost. Why us?”
Frost gave a cold smile. “Why not?” was his only reply before she and Eric were taken away.
**********
Mary dropped to her bed. With a sigh, she leaned her head into her hands. *How could this be happening?* she asked herself, and God, for that matter. It was, at least, a more grounded thought than the “This can’t be real”’s she had on first gaining consciousness. Steeling herself again, she rose and turned to her drawers.
As she went carefully through her belongings, she reminded herself to make practical choices, looking for the least weight and the most versatile, all weather gear she had. At least, that was the idea. Unfortunately, the gravity of the situation kept creeping in, and Mary had to continually stop her work and clear her head.
An hour later, she had packed a lot more clothes than she thought possible into the large backpack that Frost had provided, and had turned to everything else, tossing in toiletries, toothbrush, and other necessities. Turning back to her dresser, she saw it sitting just where she’d left it last night, even though that wonderful night seemed years away. Knowing it was an impractical choice, but not caring, she picked up the picture from the dresser and jammed it into the pack. She closed it, shrugged on her favorite sweatshirt and jacket, and headed out of her door.
A different, more and determined Mary walked out of that room than had walked in. She turned to the grim and no doubt heavily armed escort that had brought her back to the dormitory.
“Let’s go,” she said, and turned on her heel, marching away. The escort trotted up behind her, struggling to keep up.
**********
Eric exited the cab, and hauled his own pack out of the trunk while his escort paid. He hefted the pack up onto his shoulders, and headed in the direction he’d been told. For a moment, he stopped on the cobblestone walk and looked up at the dark bronze statue, jamming his fists into the pockets of his long coat. He’d seen it dozens of times– everyone who lived in Boston for any amount of time had– but now it could have very well been the last time he saw it… forever.
For his part, the bronze and stone memorial to Sam Adams stared impassively and silently, past Eric and the hundreds of other people gathered at Faneuil Hall. Eric looked away as he heard a familiar voice call his name.
Turning away, he found Mary rushing towards him, and he ran to catch her. They hugged tightly, neither one wanting to let go, as letting go would mean heading off on the run for their lives.
“Are you all right?” he asked.
“As all right as you’d expect, under the circumstances.”
Eric laughed himself. “Good point. Did you get everything you need?”
“I hope so. You?”
“Yeah. I actually got to bring my laptop. Once they’d ripped out the modem and floppy drive, that is.”
“Why?”
“I’m a writer, remember? Can you imagine what kind of a book this would make?”
She gave a disbelieving snort. “Did you at least pack your dance shoes?”
“They were almost the first things in the bag.” For the moment, it was feeling like a typical conversation. It was fun. “It was the rest that took time.”
“A lot of tough choices, huh?”
“Yeah, what _does_ one pack for this kind of adventure? I doubt that it’s covered in your better books on etiquette.” It wasn’t his best attempt at humor, admittedly, but he felt the need to at least try.
“An adventure, huh?” Mary thought it over. “An adventure it is, then.” She watched him rub his temples. “You okay?”
He nodded. “I’ve still got a headache from that stun gun Frost hit me with.”
“You know, that was probably the single most stupid thing I’ve ever seen anyone do.”
“I beat you to it,” Eric asked smiling, “didn’t I?”
“You’re damn right you did.”
“You can take the next 40,000 volts, then.” After a moment, Eric checked his watch, then asked, “Have you got the time?”
She laughed. “Getting worried they won’t show?”
“More like I’m anxious to get started.”
“_That’s_ the endlessly overconfident Eric Umali I know.”
“That’s right.” Eric pulled away and placed his hands on her shoulders. He looked deep into her eyes, as much giving her confidence as drawing it in kind from their hazel depths. “I promise,” he said quietly, deliberately. “We’ll get through this. Together.”
Her eyes brightened. “You know, one of these days, you’re going to say something like that, and I _won’t_ instantly believe you.”
“Don’t count on it.”
“I’m not worried, trust me. The real question is, do you believe it yourself?”
He sighed. “I’d better, or this is going to be a very short adventure.”
Someone nearby cleared their throat. Still arm in arm, Eric and Mary turned to find Frost standing before them, flanked by their stone-faced escorts. “You are ready?” he asked.
They nodded. “How long do we have?” asked Mary.
“I told you, Miss Patire– ninety hours.”
“No,” Eric said, “how long do we have to stay alive? How long until this is over?”
Frost looked surprised. “We typically don’t inform our… subjects of their… time commitment anymore. The more successful of them tended to get rather cocksure and sloppy as the deadline approached, and made the hunt less than satisfying.” He looked over the supremely unimpressed young people before him and thought. “But as I said before, the two of you are a special case.” He cleared his throat, as if to make a great pronouncement. “You have three months, and you may begin counting down your ninety hours, starting now, exactly noon.”
“And if we survive your ninety-day trial? What then?” Mary asked.
Again, there was Frost’s spine-chilling laugh. “As a matter of fact, I have no idea. We’ve never had a subject survive the entire time.”
“Just for fun, Frost. Indulge us.”
The man rubbed at his chin, thinking. “Five million dollars. Each.”
The large man turned and began walking back to the waiting limousine. He turned back to face them. “I’m sure we’ll get more than our money’s worth from the two of you.”
“Count on it,” Eric called back.
To be continued…
