Free Scavenger by David Morrell Page A

over her white blouse. The coveralls were sturdy nylon on the outside with an insulating fabric. Briefly, the material chilled her legs. After transferring the toilet paper to the coveralls, she carried the socks and hiking boots to the bed and put them on. Everything fit her.
    She glanced around the room, looking for anything she might be able to use to escape.
    “Nothing here will help you,” the voice said from the ceiling.
    It made her flinch. She heard footsteps in the corridor and left the bedroom, seeing Ray, Bethany, Derrick, and Viv come out of their rooms. All wore caps, coveralls, wool socks, and hiking shoes. Ray’s were green, Bethany’s gray, Derrick’s red, and Viv’s brown. Because of Ray’s pilot background, he was the only one who looked at ease in the jumpsuit.
    “Well, at least I can tell the rest of you apart,” Derrick, the only black person in the group, tried to joke.
    “I think that’s the idea,” Ray said, pointing toward the ceiling. “For him to tell us apart, especially at a distance.”
    Glancing nervously around, they descended the staircase to the large open area in front of the door. Ray pulled out his lighter, opening and snapping it shut. Amanda tried not to let the sound get on her nerves.
    “Now what?” Viv asked the voice.
    “Go into the dining room,” the voice commanded. “Put on your radio headsets. Turn them on.”
    “Wait a minute.” Bethany’s eyes looked fierce. “The sink in my bathroom didn’t work! I’m thirsty!”
    “I’m hungry,” Ray said. “God knows how long it’s been since—”
    “This is Monday,” the voice said.
    “Monday?” Bethany’s voice dropped.
    “But the last thing I remember ...” Derrick shook his head. “My God, I lost . . . ”
    “Two days.” Viv looked stunned.
    “So, of course, you’re hungry and thirsty. The fact that you weren’t active during the interval prevented you from expending energy. You still have strength. As I noted when telling you about Bethany’s experience on the ocean, you can survive for as long as three weeks without food.”
    Amanda felt her lightheadedness return.
    “Contrary to popular opinion, going two or three days without food is hardly life-threatening,” the voice assured them. “People have been known to hike great distances during that time.”
    Obeying instructions, Viv went into the dining room. But she kept going into the kitchen.
    Understanding, Amanda and the others followed, watching Viv put on the rubber gloves she used earlier. She opened the refrigerator. It was empty. She opened all the cupboards, but they too were empty. She tried the tap on the sink. It no longer worked.
    She moaned.
    “Fasting purifies,” the voice said. “Now go into the dining room and put on the headsets. Otherwise, I won’t let you outside.”
    With no other choice, they did what they were told.
    Amanda adjusted the headset, then put her cap back on. As she pulled her blond hair through the back of the hat, the sonorous voice through the ear buds was disturbingly intimate. “Put your GPS receiver into a pocket. Be careful to protect it. You’re going to need it.”
    Again, the group obeyed.
    “Now I’ll tell you about Scavenger ,” the voice said. “In 2000, President Clinton signed legislation that allowed global positioning satellite receivers available to the public to receive signals that were accurate within ten feet, almost as accurate as military GPS receivers. Prior to that time, the public could receive GPS signals that were accurate only within twenty-five feet, reserving greater accuracy exclusively for the military. Almost immediately, someone in Oregon posted map coordinates on an Internet site, explaining that anyone who used a GPS receiver to search that area had a chance to find a hidden treasure. The treasure was only a metal box of dime-store novelties. That wasn’t the point. The objective wasn’t what was in the box but rather the pleasure of the hunt. Even with