Page 38 of The Most Dangerous Games

“The speed with which you make the trip, the resourcefulness you show, and, as need be, even the courage. If required,” The Host says. “That’s if you all live.”

“You said no one’s supposed to die.”

“And if you are truly worthy of having been invited to these games, if you continue to exhibit the worthiness you just showed in the water, no one will,” The Host concludes.

Reg looks at Wyatt and says it quietly, where only they can hear it.

“He’s lying.”

Not the first time, not the last.

Patrick Arrasmith

28.

Chile

Jack has read plenty about people who have been bitten by sharks. A school friend from Galveston told him what it was like, saying it felt like a bad wasp sting at first, except for the crunching feeling of the teeth.

The truly intense pain, his friend told him, comes later.

Jack feels the teeth clamping down on his lower left leg, experiences the shock of that, just because he thinks he’s in the clear when he’s about to be up and out of the water.

But, just as quickly as the bite has come, the shark lets go of him.

Jack has also read up on what are called “hit and run” shark bites, once the attacker realizes that humans aren’t prey.

When he is on his feet, he sees the blood in the water and runs like hell through the waist-high surf, despite the pain. When he gets close enough to the beach, hoping the shark is gone but not taking any chances, he just launches himself, almost with a racing dive, the last few yards into the sand.

Jimmy is with him, helping him up to a sitting position, giving a quick check to the wound, and then runs to what they both can see is a medevac helicopter that has landed farther down the beach.

Elena runs across the sand and appears out of breath, dropping to her knees beside Jack. Hand on his shoulder like she’s grounding herself.

“I thought—” she starts. “Are you—are you okay?”

Jack tries to smile through pain that’s starting to bloom. “Day at the beach.”

Elena doesn’t smile back. She glances toward the helicopter. “It wasn’t for you.”

Jack follows her look.

A stretcher comes out of the tree line. A man on it. Face gray. Jaw slack. Luca Tommasi. They’d had dinner the night before, Jack, Luca, and Elena.

Jack’s stomach drops. “What happened?”

Elena’s voice goes tight. “We got new routes on our sat phones. The Host said we could start whenever we wanted, and they’d check times later. Luca took off right away.” She swallows. “Tipton went with him.”

Jack’s eyes flick. “Tipton?”

Elena nods. “They were together at first. Then Tipton came back alone. Said he decided to wait and ‘play it smart.’”

Jack sits up as far as he can. “And Luca?”

“They said he stopped to fix his boot,” Elena replies. “Bend down, tie a lace. And he got tagged by something.” She lowers her voice. “One of those spiders.”

“Chilean recluse?” Jack asks, because his brain needs a label for the horror.

Elena nods once. “Probably.”