Page 11

seven

With my hands on my hips, I pace the grounds of Northview woods, just southwest of the golf course encircling NU President Harvey’s gated brick mansion.

The area takes up about a five-mile radius surrounded by the wall, and I have trained specifically to run through these trees and scale the plaster fence in record time.

Before entering, each of us was given a pat down and was reminded of the STD tests.

We handed over our phones and anything else in our pockets.

Brothers received condoms, which most made balloon animals out of, then popped them, startling us all with shrieks of terror at the sound. Us sisters are on edge already.

For Massacre Monday, everyone is dressed in black: black jeans, black shirts, black hoodies.

Skull face paint is the custom, worn in unique styles.

It’s supposed to represent the bones for some ritual, I think, but I haven’t paid much attention to the history portion of our weekly lessons.

My perpetuity exam takes place next year, and I’ve got too many other classes to worry about.

No one knows when the Greek Games started, but this event has been happening for almost twenty years. Before that, there was a twenty-year break for some reason, but The Seven Moons events originated with the school’s foundation. That’s one thing I do remember.

As I glance around under the pitch-black shroud of an overcast summer evening, I narrow my eyes, trying to recognize anyone I know, other than Gwen clinging to my hand.

I halt my steps and stand among the crowd.

It’s impossible to tell who’s Omega, Sigma, or Iota , and none of the men are distinguishable, either.

Gwen trembles next to me, and I wonder if she’s cold, but she leans over and whispers, “This isn’t what I thought it would be like.” There’s such fear in her voice, I feel bad for her.

“Greeks! Pay attention!” A clang resounds through the silent night as someone leans a ladder against a tree.

A skull-faced man climbs to the top and perches his hip on a few of the rungs while a brother beneath lights a flashlight and points it toward him.

He raises a red megaphone that squawks so loudly, we all cover our ears.

The leafy branches blowing in the breeze behind him give him the look of a specter, adding to the ominous nature of the event. Some of the small valleys up ahead dance with a haze of fog crashing over them in waves, and the tension in my neck relaxes. It’s a perfect blanket for hiding.

“Sisters! Your role is, well, to survive . Make it over the wall, you earn your house double points. If you’re carried over by a brother, you lose points for your house.”

Despite the crowd of maybe eight hundred people, men outnumbering women by four to one, no one else makes a sound, everyone frozen in place and trying to memorize every word the announcer speaks.

“Brothers! Your duty is to capture a sister and bring her across the wall alive . If she’s missing an arm or something, it’s frowned upon. Incapacitation is perfectly okay. Death has happened before. It’s not ideal, but no worries.”

Gwen glances at me, and even in the dim light, her white face paint stretches so her eyes appear wider. She shakes in my hold, and I squeeze her hand back. I won’t get caught .

“Alumni and senior judges will be watching on camera and patrolling on foot, wearing glow sticks on their jackets the color of their house. Any purposeful intent to kill or maim a sister or brother will be noted, and you’ll be dealt with by the senate on Sin Sunday in the Cathedral of Seven Moons.”

From the crowd, a man shouts something, and my heart rate accelerates because I couldn’t catch his words. Was it important?

“Oh, yeah. No weapons of any kind! And blah blah consent. Listen, sisters… You know if you’re here, you’re about to get fucked in every hole and probably multiple times. So pucker up, pussycats. If you feel like you can’t handle us, let the judges in the center know now before the starting gun.”

Sobs interrupt the silence as a few of the women weave through bodies to make their exits from the event. The cluster of people is thick where we stand and, because of it, I’ve gotten myself turned around. Everything I can see looks different in the dead of night with so many people surrounding me.

“Sisters, get ready! On go, you have a two-minute head start this year.”

There’s a surge of shuffling feet, all of us women trying to shove the men out of our way. Why didn’t I plan to stand in the front? Is this my first huge mistake?

“Set!”

I’m not going to make it! My fingers snatch hair and push shoulders to the side while Gwen scratches my skin, her nails digging into my hand as she tries to keep up.

“Go!” The gunshot spurs me to take off in a seasoned sprint that I’ve practiced many times over the course of my life.

We make it to the edge of the crowd as screams erupt from some of the women, all of us darting in a wide circle in all directions. It really doesn’t matter which way everyone goes since we started in the middle of the woods.

However, I want to go south, where the path is the easiest to traverse, so I glance up at the moon and scan the sky for the North Star.

It’s too dusky to see where it is. Using my bearings, I sprint toward the tree line to gain some distance so I can decide my next move.

Gwen huffs loud breaths and eventually catches up to me.

“I-I didn’t think it’d be so scary , Pippi! I don’t think I can do this! If…if I get caught, just leave me and save yourself.” Once we approach a coppice of ash, I crouch and pull her down with me.

Holding up one finger to my lips, I urge her to be quiet. “Shh! It’s okay. We’re on the south side of the woods. It’s easiest here. Less hills to climb, though the trees are farther apart. Can you try to keep up behind me?”

She swipes at some tears that must have fallen over her cheeks and nods.

A high-pitched horn blares a haunting tune, alerting us that the men have started their hunt, but louder than the wailing howls of their calls is the sound of hundreds of feet pounding the ground, fists hitting flesh, cries of anguish piercing the sky as well as shouts of triumph.

The Massacre has begun.

I nod at Gwen and take off. Through the cover of trees, it’s fairly easy for me to flee without much detection. Gwen’s slower steps shuffle behind me, and she occasionally whimpers about stepping on a branch or upturned stone.

Another woman races nearby, on the same path we’re heading. She’s not as fast as me, but I’m not giving my all so that Gwen can still see me. As I glance over my shoulder, two men catch the other sister by diving for her legs, yanking her to the ground as she screams and scratches at their faces.

“Hold her down! Grab her hands,” one man says to the other as the sound of tearing fabric cuts like a knife in the night.

We push forward another quarter of a mile through the soft dirt and over some downed logs. Louder steps crack the twigs behind us, and I know we’re about to face our first battle. With as deft a maneuver as I can, I slide into a low embankment as Gwen stumbles over some rocks.

A hooded figure jumps out and grabs her while another glances around for me, his arms flailing out to his sides.

Like a snake, I pounce from my hiding spot and snag first one hand, then the other.

With a leap, I shove both knees into his back as he goes down swiftly with a groan.

He tries to dig his feet in to gain leverage, to no avail.

I tug so hard, one of his wrists snaps. He screams as loud as Gwen, who’s struggling underneath the other man pulling her jeans down around her thighs.

While my opponent wallows on the ground, I jerk his sleeves down his arms, tie them in a knot, and secure them as best I can before catapulting to a stand.

My thick boot comes in handy when I deliver a roundhouse kick straight to the temple of Gwen’s foe, quickly resuming my stance to make sure he’s down.

Given that the blow was unexpected, it’s an immediate knockout, and his body seizes on a pile of pine needles.

Two more brothers emerge from the fog as Gwen shimmies out of her pants. “These will just slow me down!” she cries. As she hops on one foot, I think about leaving. My calves tense for a take-off, but I wait to see if she can make it.

Just as they reach us, one of the men grabs the other from behind and the two grapple on the forest floor. A third joins in delivering punch after punch and kick after kick to various body parts, the blood flying in spurts like inky black geysers.

I snag Gwen’s hand and point to where we’re going, leaving the three to fight their own battle. Over the next hill, I calculate we may have made it one mile. Maybe slightly more.

“You should go. I have to rest. Thank you, Pippi… I-I need to hide.” A hoarse cry escapes as she says, “I didn’t think it would be like this. I-I thought it would be fun , you know?”

At the approaching sound of footsteps, I shove her under a bush, shimmy up a small tree, and squat in a low-hanging branch while holding my breath.

A man with a billowing black cloak stops just beneath me and searches around the area, his head turning left and right.

If only I could take a deep inhale, I think my heart could stop beating so loudly, but my nose only takes a few sips of the moist air, so I don’t make a sound.

A second brother, with wide shoulders and blond hair that gleams in the dim light, comes upon the cloaked man, rushing him with full force.

The first steps aside as the big man trips over something and tumbles to the ground.

He rolls over and the other man jumps on top of his waist, the fabric from his mantle flowing in the breeze.