“Unfortunately, yes,” David muttered to his roommate. “Where did they find you?”
“In the middle of the parking lot!” Zeke exhaled in frustration. “I was trying to get a better signal calling home.”
The engine roared to life beneath them, and the vehicle jolted forward, sending them both skidding toward the front of the trunk. It was all David could do to avoid smashing his head against the wall. Judging by Zeke’s groan, he hadn’t been so lucky.
“You blindfolded too?” David managed, shifting himself back upright.
“Yes!” Zeke said. “God. I am an ignoramus. What the hell was I thinking when I joined this club?”
David sighed. Zeke was right. They really only had themselves to blame. The Wolf Club was an unsanctioned social club, and even though hazing was supposed to be banned, everyone knew it still happened. They had both heard some absurd rumors regarding its rituals, but David had just assumed they were only that—rumors—especially because they’d made it so far without anything happening.
“Clearly, we’re both a bit thick,” he said, wincing as he tried, and failed, to loosen his binds. He guessed they must have been biding their time, perhaps to make it all the more unpredictable. “What happened to your phone, Zeke? Do you still have it?”
“No.” He huffed. “They snatched it, right in the middle of a conversation with my grandmother! She’s going to have a heart attack, I tell you. Bloody morons.”
A smile twitched at David’s lips in spite of everything. His influence on Zeke’s vocabulary was quite noticeable already, and they’d only been roommates for a couple months. David secretly hoped Zeke would be calling guys blokes by the time they parted ways.
“Well, I’m sure they’ll give the phone back.” David cleared his throat. “After they’ve done…whatever it is they’re going to do.”
“And what do you think that is?” Zeke’s voice wavered a touch. “Make us rob a grocery store? Drop us in a lake? Bury us underground?”
“Umm…I have no idea. But hopefully none of those,” David replied.
At this point, he was down to hoping that the rumors were grossly exaggerated. That they’d just have to run a few laps around a field or something. Maybe butt naked. He wasn’t exactly an au naturel kind of guy, but even that would be better than doing something illegal.
Uncomfortable silence fell between the two men while David’s mind continued to mull over what could possibly lie in store for them. He shoved himself up against the wall separating them from the front compartment of the vehicle, hoping to catch snippets of conversation. But try as he might, either the guys were being quiet or the engine was simply too loud, because he was still clueless when the van pulled to an abrupt stop what felt like ten minutes later.
The engine quieted, and the back doors swung open. Hands grabbed David by the ankles and dragged him out. Then he was being carried again, the sound of twigs cracking and leaves crunching underfoot. They must be in some kind of forest.
“Oi—watch what your hands are gripping, man!” Zeke yelled from several feet behind.
“Sorry, bro,” one of the boys replied, sniggering. “It’s dark.”
“The sooner your initiation is over, the sooner you’ll be back to base.” Seb’s voice rose up from somewhere on David’s left. “If you survive it, of course…”
“What do you say, boys? Give these cubs the chant?” Max added.
Jeers erupted from around David and quickly transformed into a bizarre chorus of words he couldn’t understand. Apparently, the whole club had been waiting on them out here. The chant sounded like Latin, though the intonation was guttural and downright tribal—effectively turning the creepiness dial up a notch. David had to wonder if they were going to roast them on a spit or something.
The group began to slow, then came to a halt. David was lowered onto coarse grass. Hands on his wrists and ankles loosened the bindings and slipped them off. David immediately reached up to remove his blindfold.
As he pushed himself upright, his eyes struggled to adjust to the darkness. He could hear a chorus of hurried footfalls disappearing into the distance. The guys had scampered already, leaving him with nothing but pale shafts of moonlight to guide his way.
“Zeke?” David called tentatively, rising to unsteady feet. “You here?”
He heard stumbling to his right and turned to see the dazed silhouette of his five-foot-seven friend staggering into the small clearing.
“Yes,” Zeke sniped, swiping at his brow.
David navigated a fallen tree trunk and moved closer. Whatever lay in store for them next—finding their way home, presumably—he figured it was wise to stay close to each other in the gloom.
He’d almost reached his friend’s side when something hit the small of his back. He whirled to see a large white ball at his feet.
“Ow.” Zeke jumped as an identical ball hit him in the shoulder, flying at him from the opposite direction.
As David stooped down to pick his up, he realized it was less of a ball and more of a bundle. There was a white shirt and a pair of white pants rolled up tightly together. He unraveled them and furrowed his brow. Both were at least a size too small.
“I’m not sure how much more nonsense I can take this evening,” Zeke grumbled, unravelling his own bundle. “What are we supposed to—”
“Put them on.” Max’s voice suddenly crackled through the forest, amplified by some kind of loudspeaker. “And leave your old clothes in a pile on the ground. You’ll have no more need for them tonight.”
David spun in the direction of the command, disoriented. So, the others were still in the forest. Where? At least two of them couldn’t be far away, to have aimed the clothes with such accuracy. As David squinted, trying to make out their forms lurking among the trees, Max added ominously, “I also suggest that you be quick. The gauntlet will begin in three minutes.”
There was a sound of loud static, and his voice cut out.
“Gauntlet?” Zeke whispered, his voice suddenly tense. “What is that?”
“I don’t know,” David replied, wetting his lips. “But I think we should get these on.”
Clutching the bundles, they separated, each moving behind a tree. David slipped off his trousers, still feeling paranoid about who was standing where, who might be watching. Tugging on the smaller pair over his boxers, he managed to get them up to his waist—though they looked ridiculous, the hems coming up several inches short around his ankles—then tore off his shirt and replaced it with the white one. Thankfully, it was made from slightly stretchy material, though he still felt like the Michelin Man.
Conscious that their allotted three minutes must nearly be up, he ducked out from behind the tree to reunite with Zeke, who had also changed—into clothes that were clearly several sizes too big.
David grimaced. Whoever had thrown the bundles had bollocksed it up.
Before he could suggest switching clothes, something whooshed past his ear and splattered against the tree beside him. He turned to see a dark splotch.
Then a barrage of tiny balls started shooting at them from all directions.
“Oh, no,” Zeke said. “No, no, no—”
David launched forward, grabbing Zeke by the arm and pulling him into motion. Paintball wasn’t something he knew much about by any stretch of the imagination, but he understood enough to know that people wore protective gear for a reason. He didn’t feel like discovering what it felt like to get hit.
“Son of a—” Zeke staggered and swerved off course, coughing and wheezing. One quick glance over his shoulder told David he’d been caught in the ribs. The boy was on his knees, clutching at his sides.
David slipped an arm beneath Zeke’s shoulder and hauled him back up. “We’ve got to keep moving.” He poured on the speed, dragging Zeke across the undergrowth as the boy struggled to recover from the hit.
Then he heard the groan of stitching around his crotch and winced. Maybe tonight was going to be au naturel after
all.
Or close to it.
He tried to do a better job of zigging and zagging through the forest, despite his physical constraints, to make them less easy targets as Zeke recovered. But they were outnumbered, and their stark white clothes didn’t help. Several rapid heartbeats later, pain exploded in his right shoulder as a paintball found its mark, though he didn’t have time to pause and catch his bearings like Zeke had. He could hear footsteps approaching swiftly, and flickers of light started to break through the brush around them. Their attackers were gaining on them, and the closer they got, the harder the hits were going to land.
“Are you okay, David?” Zeke huffed. He was on his own two feet now, darting along a couple yards away and clutching at his pants to keep them up.
David merely grunted, not having the breath to respond, and ducked beneath a thick branch, just as another ball came whizzing past his head. He was hit by a second ball two seconds later, and then by a third. He cursed, realizing his shirt was half soaked already. He was going to be black and blue by the time this was over.
And he was going to have a flaming wedgie.
“How long is this going to go on for?!” Zeke cried out, wincing as another bullet caught him in the leg.
No response came back from the men behind them, other than a round of snickering.
Until we somehow get out of here, David thought.
He tried to stay focused on his breathing, rather than the discomfort radiating from his lower half (though he couldn’t help but think bitterly now that the outfit switch had been intentional). He had no idea how much farther they’d have to run; so he had to remain steady. David squinted, trying to see what was up ahead, whether there was any end in sight, or at least any sign of the trees thinning.
Then his foot hit an unearthed root, and he almost tripped headfirst into a large pit. He caught his balance just in time and was about to continue darting ahead after Zeke when an idea struck him.
“Zeke, stop!” he hissed.
His friend halted and whirled around, and David immediately dropped into the hole, waving at Zeke to do the same. Zeke was quick to catch on and rushed back, leaping into the hole with David and hunkering down.
David pressed a finger to his lips, trying to quiet his own heavy breathing. Their attackers were still a dozen feet or so behind and might not have been able to catch where David and Zeke had suddenly vanished to. If they could just lure a couple, or even one, this way…
“Where did they go?” David heard one of the boys shout as the sound of crackling twigs grew closer.
There was a brief pause before Max replied, “Spread out a bit. They might’ve ducked behind a bush or something.”
David pushed his back harder against the damp soil as what sounded like two sets of footsteps grew closer to their hole. He exchanged a glance with Zeke in the gloom, and they both nodded wordlessly, forming a silent understanding.
They tucked their legs and feet as close as they could to their chests and waited until the footsteps reached the pit’s edge.
They had the element of surprise, but only a split-second window to take advantage of it.
David nudged Zeke in the arm. They sprang up as one, reaching for the two visible pairs of ankles and yanking them forward. The men and their weapons tumbled to the ground. They yelped and scrambled to sit up, but, leaping out from the pit, David and Zeke lunged for their weapons and managed to snatch them up first, pointing them straight at their former attackers. Dressed in black protective gear and masks with goggles, they weren’t exactly easy to identify, but it didn’t matter at this point. David was ready to make them pay.
“Breathe a word, and we’ll fire,” David whispered tersely, tightening his grip around the gun. He cast a quick glance around to check if the others had noticed them go down, but it sounded like they were still trudging on through the woods, unaware of the boys’ takeover. David and Zeke had the opening they needed.
Keeping the gun poised threateningly, David backed away around the hole, motioning for Zeke to follow, then broke into a run.
The second the guns were turned away, the boys behind them shouted for their cohorts. An explosion of paintballs came hurtling toward them, but now they could fire back. And fire they did.
Before long, the offending projectiles had reduced significantly as the other boys were forced to duck and dart for cover, allowing David and Zeke to better focus on gaining ground.
“Is it just me, or does it look like the trees are getting thinner?” Zeke panted after a long minute, gazing around wildly as he struggled to hike up his pants with one hand.
“I think you’re right,” David breathed back. It was becoming easier to run, with less low-hanging branches and fat trunks to dodge. He realized he could also hear the low zooming of vehicles. “Keep going,” he said with renewed strength in his voice. “We’re almost out.”
A couple minutes and a few more rogue paintballs later, they were out of the trees and standing on the edge of a busy, brightly-lit road. David came to a halt, his chest heaving. He looked back into the forest, concerned the guys were going to follow them out and keep firing. But the trees behind them remained still. Their attackers seemed to have retreated.
“Guess we passed the test,” David said, gingerly running a hand through his sticky hair. He glanced down at his trousers and was surprised to see they had survived the run. Mostly. Now he only hoped he hadn’t permanently injured himself.
“And thank God for that.” Zeke gasped, reaching his side and bending over, hands on his knees.
When he straightened, David finally got a proper look at his friend. Zeke’s short, black beard had turned fluorescent pink, courtesy of a ball that had exploded on his upper chest, and the rest of his face had been splattered a sickly green. His bowl-cut hair had tinges of both colors and was sticking up at all angles.
“You look good,” David said.
Zeke scoffed. “Oh. You are funny, David. For the record, I am sure I look just as good as you.”
“Don’t give me the details,” David muttered, sliding a hand beneath his trousers to adjust his underwear.
Then the memory of his upcoming exam came slamming into him like a sledgehammer. He had to get home—now.
Looking left and right along the road, David realized he didn’t have a clue where they were. He hadn’t spent much time off-campus since he’d arrived in Cambridge, and he certainly didn’t recognize this area.
He cast another glance over his shoulder at the forest, half tempted to venture back in to try to negotiate a ride with the boys if they hadn’t buggered off already. But the risk of getting them all riled up and trigger-happy again didn’t sit well, so he discarded the idea.
“We need to go that way,” Zeke suddenly said.
David turned to face him, surprised at the confident tone. “How do you…” His voice trailed off as he followed Zeke’s gaze to the other side of the road.
Signboard. Genius.
“Okay. Let’s get moving.”
David started striding forward but halted again after three steps. He looked down at Zeke, who had stalled alongside him, and they shared a glance.
“We should change first,” David said.
Zeke nodded sullenly.
They moved back to the forest border and ducked behind a row of bushes, where they stripped to their underwear and exchanged clothes. As sodden and sticky as Zeke’s were, they were infinitely more comfortable in size, and David emerged from the bushes a happier man.
Happier—but not exactly happy.
“Any guesses how long it’ll take to walk?” David asked, his voice tight, as they resumed their brisk pace along the sidewalk.
Zeke let out a long breath, looking equally, if not more, stressed. “Um. I-I don’t know.” He dug a hand into his disheveled hair. “I think I have passed this area on a bus before, but walking…perhaps an hour.”
David increased his pace. “I need to be back in half an hour—or less if we can mana
ge it.” He’d been pressed for time even before his housemates had snatched him. It killed him to think how much this was setting him back.
“You’re not the only one who needs to get back,” Zeke replied, his voice suddenly pitchy. “All this socializing is going to mess up my midterms. And if that happens, I swear, my parents will literally disown me.” He cussed, his breaths becoming sharp and uneven. “You have no idea how hard they worked to get me here. All the after-school tuition. Practically their life savings—” His voice choked up, and David turned to stare at his friend in surprise.
He’d known Zeke was under a lot of pressure. The guy had a large and highly ambitious family back home—and he often griped about the lofty expectations they had of him. David was used to his mood swings, too, and his habit of looking mournful and depressed almost every time he sat down to work.
But he’d never seen Zeke looking quite this…flustered. Judging from the glisten at the corners of his eyes and the slight tremor of his lower lip, he was close to tears.
David reached out to grip his shoulder. “Hey, man. It’s okay. You’ll pull through this. We both will.”
Zeke bit down hard on his lip, his eyes fixing stoically ahead, and David tried to think of what more he could say—or even if he should say more, at this point.
David wasn’t exactly in the same boat as Zeke, performance-wise. Because he had no family pressure. No family at all, actually…
He’d been adopted by a middle-aged British-Israeli couple when he was only a month old and raised by them until his late teens. His mother had passed away after a stroke when David was seventeen, and his father had died of lung cancer a couple of years later.
And he didn’t know who his birth parents were, because it had been a closed adoption. The only thing his adoptive parents knew was that he’d been born in Boston, where they had been living at the time. Then they brought David back to London when he was two, and England had been his home for the rest of his childhood and adolescence.
That was one of the reasons David had worked so hard to get a scholarship at Harvard. He’d wanted to get back to America. He’d planned to take economics as his major, anyway, and he had never been one to settle for second best when a bit more effort would get him to first. His adoptive father had always encouraged him to push for greatness, and David had worked hard to make him proud. But more than that, now that the parents who’d raised him were gone, the UK no longer held enough for him.
The Child Thief 6: Zero Hour Page 37
