Page 25 of Forsaking All Others

“Regina,” I hiss, “we don’t have time to fuck around. I’ll give you my puzzle piece and an advantage; it’s the best offer you’re going to get right now. You’re walking around in circles for Christ’s sake!”

“OK, OK,” she whispers, her eyes even wider than before. “What’s the advantage?”

“This.”

I hold up the backpack and point to the stitching.

“Look at your pack. The stitching is a map. Follow it and it’ll help you get to the top of the mountain. With two puzzle pieces you might get there first and solve the riddle or whatever it is before anyone else.”

“I doubt it,” she whines, “I never would have found that map. Are you sure we can’t work together?”

I sigh heavily. “What does your piece say?”

She hands it over and I read her clue.

‘He could resist everything except temptation.’

It might as well be hieroglyphics for all the help it gives me.

“Who do you think this is talking about?” Regina asks, her voice hushed. “The Bachelor?”

“I have no fucking idea.”

“Is it the name of the person the clue is talking about? Or is the person the answer to the puzzle?”

“Regina,” I snap, “I told you, I’m no good at these things. What I am good at is violence. So, are you going to swap clothes or not?”

“Yes, of course,” she frowns, already starting to peel off her clothes, “you don’t need to get mean about it.”

“I didn’t intend to threaten you,” I scowl, undressing quickly. “If I wanted you dead, you’d already be dead. I just meant that I need to get moving, and so do you.”

I don’t bother telling her that in addition to having violent tendencies, I’m also good at strategy — and right now I’m making a highly strategic, and if I’m right, potentially fatal (for her) move.

She huffs and hands over her clothes, and we quickly swap. I hadn’t told her about the puzzle piece holes aligning with the stars because I don’t think it has any relevance other than maybe to confuse us, but I know the map is a game-changer for her.

When we’re dressed in each other’s swimsuits I nod to her and turn away before she can ask again for my help. I feel a moment, just a tiny moment, of remorse at what I’ve just done, but it passes quickly, and I sprint off up the mountain without looking back.

As I run I ruminate over the clues we both had. Neither made any sense. I know myself well enough to know that puzzles aren’t my strength. I hadn’t been lying when I told Regina this. And I realise I’m going to need to come up with a plan before I reach the summit if I intend to break my streak of coming last in fucking everything in this game — last is definitely not where I want to be tonight.

Moving fast but stealthily to ensure I remain undetected by both competitors and the man with the gun, I keep moving upwards, the route easy to follow now that I’ve memorised the map.

After about twenty minutes of climbing I see Khutulun about fifteen metres or so ahead of me, making her way through a rocky outcrop. She notices me too and pauses to hurl a boulder at me.

‘Oh, you bitch!’

I bite my hand at her and speed up as she half bends to pick up another rock, but changes her mind and spins to run. Perhaps she realises the threat my action poses.

‘If I catch you…!’

Where I come from if someone gestures that way, you run. But it’s more likely, given how fast I’m advancing upon her, that she’s decided it would be prudent for her to run rather than wasting time trying to hit a moving target in the darkness.

Still, her assault is a salient reminder that it’s not just enemies from outside of The Game I need to be aware of. This helps me steel my heart a little to the knowledge that I’d signed Regina’s death warrant earlier, something I promise myself I’ll take great pleasure in doing to Khutulun at the next challenge. But not this one, because I’m not following the path she led through the rocks. My map indicates a small goat track running around the rim of the mountainside beneath a stretch of rocky terrain.

‘She must not have the map.’

I can’t help but laugh out loud as not twenty minutes later I reach the summit and find myself alone. It’s obvious I’ve found the right spot because in the centre of the small clearing stands a sawn-off tree stump, on top of which lines have been drawn showing the outline of puzzle pieces. It’s clear that once the pieces are all together the clues should give us the answer to whatever it is we need to relay to the bachelor.

I chew my lip as I consider the stump and the best course of action now that I’m here. My only option, really, is to wait for more clues. I no longer have my puzzle piece, but I know what both mine and Regina’s said, and I roughly remember their shape. If enough clues are assembled I’ll probably be able to fill in the gaps, which would give me an advantage.