I gasp when my eyes fly open, hauling breath into my lungs as if I’ve just broken out of a pool of water. I immediately sit up, panting, staring around at my unfamiliar surroundings. And my first thought, absurdly, is that I’m in the dream state – Because this – this is not the dorm room that I
You have thirty-six hours to reach the Final Destination. Any candidate who takes longer than that will not pass. We wish you the best of luck. I glance through the note one more time, my mind coming fully back to me now as adrenaline starts to pump through my veins. Once I’m sure that I’ve commit
My feet carry me quickly through the woods as I survey the map, swiftly making sense of it and matching physical landmarks with the points on the page. Inwardly, I think gratefully of my dad and my uncle Roger, who brought me along on those early camping trips and showed me how to do this sort of wo
Being fast on my feet isn’t going to help me, is it? “Come on,” a cadet I don’t recognize says, pointing left towards the ridge I was following. “This way – we follow to the bridge.” I nod slightly, my own plan confirmed in his. “A fucking bridge?” another says, shaking his head, even as he tu
My bolt flies as Wright charges directly for me, his eyes focusing on my exact location either by dint of my scent or my snarl. He dodges, though, at the last second, when he sees the crossbow bolt flying directly for his chest – His quick movement works and the bolt glances off his arm, ripping t
In an instant, Jackson shifts, his breath heaving in him as he shrinks in on himself and takes his human form again, one leg still spread on either side of my body. “Even!?” he snaps, clearly livid. “You want to call this fucking even!? You were going to kill him!” “Well, we didn’t,” Wright snarls
This gets his attention, and he snaps his face to mine, snarling and baring his teeth. But I just cross my arms, glaring up at him. “Would you listen to me? I know things, all right? And she’s not here.” Jackson goes still, just staring at me. “I’m not tricking you, Jacks!” I shout, frantic myse
I oblige, taking a quick sip from the canteen as Jackson holds one map in each hand looking them over. He gives a swift nod, handing one back to me. “Thanks, by the way,” I say, taking my attention from the path for a moment as I hand his canteen back to him. “For…rescuing me. Again.” Jackson do