Page 27 of Enter if you Dare: Part Two

“That was five stars. The herding, his patience, and the restraint. He had me dead inside my head at the five-minute mark.” He holds up his bound wrists. “Also, he tied these where I could reach the release, which is the single most insulting act of courtesy I have ever experienced.”

Valli is laughing, and Noa shouts that test one was a success.

The corn parts again, and Cave steps out. His eyes are wild as he looks around, and I know that look. He isn’t done; this has merely scratched the surface. He finds who he is looking for, singling out Valli, and crosses the grass to be closer to her.

Her laughter dies, but she holds her ground, chin up. He stops close enough that she has to tip her head all the way back, and everyone goes quiet.

“Run,” Cave says.

Valli hands me the clipboard without breaking eye contact.

“No,” she replies.

The sound that Cave makes is animalistic; it’s enough to send shivers down your spine. In one motion, she is off the ground and over his shoulder.

But Valli is laughing and beating against his back as he stalks toward the corn.

“It was nice knowing you, Valli, you lucky woman!” Noa shouts as they disappear.

“So,” the Jester says. “Is that part of the evaluation?”

Noa laughs. “Extra credit.”

The three of us sit along the fence line—Vero already vanished mid-chase without telling anyone—while from somewhere in the middle of the field drift Valli’s shrieks, then laughs.

It fills my heart when I hear Cave’s voice.

“Smart men do not test my patience . . . Brave women do. You woke the beast, little thief. And now you feed him.”

“Holy shit,” Noa exclaims. “Did that not sound like a riddle and more like him actually talking?”

I nod.

“Okay,” the Jester says, jumping down from the fence. “That’s my cue to exit. Some performances are not for everyone.”

“You get used to it,” Noa says.

“Do you really?” he asks.

“No,” I respond. If I see or hear anyone else, I’m the first one gone. It gets weird and feels pervy.

The Jester leaves, but we sit and listen. Eventually, Noa jumps down and walks closer to the field, picking up a lone corn from the ground and holding it to his mouth like a microphone while wandering back toward me.

“And here we observe the island’s largest predator, returning to his natural habitat, where he just released the female to give her a head start.”

“Noa.” I sigh in exasperation.

“Pay attention to the stillness of the corn.” He sweeps the cob of corn across the field like a camera. “He is not moving, letting her sit in the silence. Experts call this playing with your food.”

Valli’s shriek ends the silence, followed by laughter.

“He has made contact—no, false alarm, he might have let her get away. Unbelievable. I have personally been hunted by tonight’s predator, and I can tell you the rising tension is part of the experience.”

“You wanted to be hunted.”

“I did, ladies and gentlemen, but today I was rejected. This is a wound we can explore later. She is running again, listen to her go . . . and she has stopped. But why has she stopped?” Noa lowers his voice. “She is baiting him. God, she is perfect.”

Cave growls.