The White Games

25) Chapter Twenty-Five

#2 Alana Salazar – Day Seven - 2:12 PM

I sit against the trunk of a tree, playing with two serrated knives as I wait for something to happen. I received these knives—along with the first-aid kit in my belt and the vial of poison beside it—from an airdrop that took place early this morning. It was still dark when that happened. I don't know if anyone else saw it.

I had originally thought that it would lure someone else to me, another Challenger seeking the items inside. But no one arrived. I guess that everyone else must have been asleep...Yet, I know that I saw a second flare afterwards. There must have been a second airdrop.

When noon arrived, I tried to find one of those passageways, but I really didn't get anywhere. The trackers number kept shifting on me, from high to low and back again. So I stopped here for a rest break, hoping that something will change as I try to think what to do next.

As is usual when I'm not actively doing something, my head fills thoughts of my family. My older sister Deanna, my abuélos, and of course, my parents. I miss all of them terribly. So much, that it physically hurts sometimes. Do they know what has happened to me? Mr. White has said that this Game is shown on the internet, but if that was the case then why—

Snap!

A branch cracks in a nearby thicket. I'm already on my feet, swiveling towards the noise. It could be a Challenger searching for an ally. Or it could be a pair of them searching for a passageway. Or the hounds.

My heart thuds wildly as someone emerges from the undergrowth.

"You're hard to find, you know?"

A girl stands before me, her thin, muscular arms holding a type of spear with three wicked looking tips. A trident.

My mouth goes dry. Trying to see how I could defeat her...Not possible. Not with just a few knives. I ready my feet to run.

"Do you have an ally yet?" The girl asks, glancing around the small forest path. The ground is thick with fallen pine nettles. "I doubt it, seeing that the nearest Challenger is half a mile away."

"Wh-what?" How would she know that? Is she lying? And who is she? I stop and examine her for the first time. She's two inches taller than I am, but is surprisingly skinny. It doesn't look like she's been eating well. Her choppy black hair hangs just over her shoulders, and some of it has been dyed red.

"What, what?" The girl, Clarice Barron, narrows her olive eyes at me. Despite her threatening appearance, she has yet to try and kill me. But I don't understand her question.

"What?"

"Oh, no you don't! Don't start playing that game!" Clarice hisses, face contorting with anger. I jump back and surprise replaces the anger. "No! Don't be scared! I mean—Damn. I'm not good at this."

The girl curses softly and twists her trident around, slamming its tips into the dirt. For some reason, I don't think she means me any harm. I don't know why, but I know it. "You need an ally," I say, voice soft with realization. If I hadn't been so afraid, I'd have figured that out much earlier.

"Yeah, duh." The girl rolls her eyes, stepping forward and offering me a hand. "So you in or what?"

I eye that hand skeptically. This girl is certainly...unique. "Just like that? You sneak up on me, alarm me with a weapon, and expect me to just accept your offer?" Perhaps it is unwise to challenge the girl—she could kill me at any moment, after all—but I'm not about to jump when she says jump, just because she's offering the one thing that I need.