Page 19

The announcement wasn’t a surprise. Everyone at Crowsfell, the whole town of Hemlock, knew the Hunt was coming.

It was an annual tradition, one that blended chaos and legacy in equal measure.

I’d never felt unsettled about it before now.

I glanced toward the study room window, peering out at the main floor of the library.

Heads were down; eyes locked on phones. Even the librarian, Mrs. Loomis, was squinting over her half-moon glasses, her mouth curling into a smile as she read the notification behind the front desk.

Most of our peers looked excited, already buzzing with speculation and theories. I thought of what happened last night and this morning.

“I think that’s why we were being followed this morning.”

Layla’s eyes widened, panic creeping into her features. “It makes sense, but which one of us was their target?”

I wanted to tell her I knew it was me, but until I got official notice, I wasn’t about to speak that into existence.

It wasn’t the idea of being Marked that unsettled me.

That part could’ve actually been exciting.

What bothered me was seeing two, possibly three, different people watching me.

Admittedly, I wasn’t the best at math, but The Hunt assigned one Huntsman per Marked.

So, who the hell were the others, and why were they screwing with me before the event?

I stood and grabbed my bag, slinging it over my shoulder. “Come on. Let’s head to my place. I’ll fill you in on the way.”

Layla stood quickly, trailing behind me as we stepped back out into the main library. We left through the rear exit, meeting with crisp fall air, the kind that crept into your bones if you stood still too long.

“They wasted no time,” I murmured.

The campus had already started its transformation.

Woven banners were strung between lampposts, each one fluttering in the light breeze.

A new flag had been added beneath the official Crowsfell one, black with a white skull and crow sigil, an emblem of the Hunt meant to replicate our everyday logo.

Close to none of this had been up when I left my last class.

I checked my phone as we crossed the green, scattered leaves crunching beneath our feet.

Ashton still hadn’t replied to my last message. Not the one I’d sent when I got to the library, or the earlier one before my last class. That wasn’t like him. The main group chat, though, was blowing up now.

Cade

How long before the townies start selling Hunt merch with pumpkin lattes?

Nick

$400 bucks says some freshman tries to sneak into the game.

Rook

They’re being too quiet about who’s Marked this year.

They're planning something.

Ry e ????

Doesn’t matter what they’re planning.

If someone chooses one of us, I’ll be the one hunting them.

Roxxi

And me, obviously.

Cade

I’ll take that bet and say they won’t @ Nick

Nick

Goes without saying you're covered too, Vixen.

Ight. Bet then @ Cade

Cici

She meant we’d be hunting the Huntsmen. Not you.

Rook

Pretty girls shouldn’t bloody their hands.

Ari

Um, Rook, you do know no one’s actually going to bleed, right?

Rye ????

He knows.

As long as no one comes for Sass.

Or you.

Rook

Who said there won’t be bloodshed?

Xander

Chill out, man. lol

Cade

Cloe talking about hunting does funny things to my insides.

I laughed at that, picturing Cloe’s expression the second she read it.

Roxxi

??????

Cici

Sanj, I can see your read receipts, so I know you’re here. I’m watching your location till you’re home, boo.

Cade

Are you ignoring me, Cloe?

Cici

No, but I am muting this chat for the time being.

Some of us actually do our schoolwork before the last minute.

Okay, I actually took offense at that.

Nick

Tell us when you’re home, Sanj.

Layla read along beside me with a slight smile. “They really love you, huh?”

I shrugged, warmth blooming in my chest despite everything. “It’s mutual. We’re family.”

She nodded slowly. “Yeah. I know.”

The way she said it held a wistful note. “I wasn’t excluding you, Lay.”

“Not intentionally, you don’t, but I’m not in the group chat.”

“You are in our group chat.”

“Not the one with all of you.” She laughed, but it didn’t sound happy. “I’m not part of whatever you guys have, Sanj. I used to think I would fit in with you all one day, but I can’t. No one can. You guys are still a mystery to me most of the time.”

I shifted my bag as I considered her words.

She let out a sigh and went on to explain. “I don't want you to feel upset or anything. You all support each other like it's instinctual. You protect each other's secrets as if they're sacred. You're always there for one another. You're a solid front. One that doesn't fall apart.”

I hadn't realized she felt this way at all. Was I oblivious? I had always tried to include Layla, ensuring there was room for her without pushing her into situations she wasn't comfortable with. I believed everyone had made a good effort to welcome her.

She wasn't entirely part of the core group, but was that really surprising?

We had nearly two decades of shared memories and bonds.

To some degree, I could see where she was coming from, but I couldn't force the girls to embrace her more than they had, or the guys to be less reserved.

Everyone had different boundaries that had to be considered and respected.

Then, because my mouth often outran my brain, especially when emotions were involved, I blurted out, “If it makes you feel better, you've already come further than most. We only sacrifice outsiders once a semester."

She looked at me in surprise and then laughed. "What?"

"I have no idea why I said that," I admitted, laughing along. "I think my last brain cell is hanging on by a thread today."

The tension between us eased a bit, but I could still sense the sadness behind her smile. So, I changed the subject.

“Well, now seems like a good time to tell you about my masked stalkers,” I joked.

Her smile disappeared immediately, and she focused intently on my words as I detailed everything, from the one on the field, to the one outside Ashton's house, to the one under the tree by my lit class, and the one recording us on the bridge.

It didn't feel like it was the same person each time.

I explained that I hadn't mentioned it earlier because I was still trying to understand it all. She stayed silent until I finished.

Her first words were soft. “That’s not normal.”

“No shit.”

We walked quietly after that, lost in our own thoughts. The neighborhood seemed to have caught Hunt fever already.

Houses that were previously overloaded with seasonal decorations, plastic jack-o’-lanterns, and animatronics that screamed when you got too close, had now mixed in Hunt decorations. People even busted out yard signs with bold slogans, making the lawns look like campaign ads.

Slice First, Questions Later.

No One Hides.

It’s Always Closer Than You Think.

All bore Hunt and Crowsfell logos, uniting them in a somber theme. On the reverse, a few signs supported the Marked.

Keep Running.

Never Scream.

Trust No One.

“Wow,” Layla murmured, pulling her hoodie tighter. “I forgot how intense things get around here.”

I let out a dry laugh. “Yeah… Hemlock goes all out for anything remotely festive or related to Crowsfell.”

“Well, if you are somehow Marked this year, I wouldn't worry too much. You've got a whole firing squad to stand between you and any Huntsmen.”

“None of that has stopped anything from happening so far,” I pointed out.

“Yeah, that’s true. You might finally be on your own.”

Um…what the hell? She didn’t elaborate, changing the topic to our classes, like that statement wasn’t remotely a tiny bit passive-aggressive.

Given neither of us had the greatest day, I went with the flow.

We continued chatting, changing the subject to professors we liked, which ones we suspected were demons, anything to distract her from what she’d unloaded in the library, and me, the strong possibility that I was now part of a game rumored to have caused real-life trauma.

We were faking it well enough until I heard the telltale sign of a car behind us.

I glanced over my shoulder and saw a sleek black sedan, headlights off, coasting down the street at a snail’s pace.

The windows were tinted so dark it was impossible to see inside, but I felt the weight of someone’s gaze crawling up my spine.

That car had been parked on the street we had just turned off of.

Layla must have noticed too because she hesitated, her hand brushing mine in uncertainty, a silent question I couldn’t answer.

"Just keep moving," I said quietly.

The car continued to match our stride. I made sure I didn’t look back again, not wanting to give this person any attention if they were messing with us, but when the engine revved, I instinctively checked to see what they were doing. The car swerved to the right, heading toward the sidewalk.

Straight toward us.