Free The White Mountain by Ernie Lindsey Page B

underneath your skin.  This is not
optional.  Also, you will be provided a telephone number.  You must check in
daily to confirm that you are indeed still a willing participant.  If you do
not check in, we must assume that you have quit, and the penalty of death will
be enacted upon.  Understood?
    “As for the second...know
that these are the rules as they have been set forth by your predecessors.  For
one hundred and fifty years, not a single time have they been changed or
challenged.  However,” Enigma said, taking a deep breath and lifting an index
finger, “the previous winner—Ares, as I have mentioned—is granted the right to
institute Jeder für sich if he thinks the game has gone on too long.  Every
man for himself.   Regardless of how many of you remain, you will be
informed by a single phone call and you may hunt at will.  The victor shall be
made aware of his conquest and provided further details upon completion.
    “The third—we will provide
you each with a completion code.  If you are the last remaining contestant, you
will receive a phone call.  You must confirm your completion code.  Then, and
only then, will you be provided with information about Ares.
    “Go now, gentlemen.  Exit one at a time,
please, beginning with Mr. Krakatoa, yes?  Pray to whatever gods you may
believe in.  Sacrifice a goat if you think it will help.  Tend to your finances
or stay close to your loved ones if you have any.  Drink a beer, have a glass
of wine, get laid, whatever suits your tastes, for tomorrow you may expire in a
whisper and the world will not mourn its loss.”
    Randall leaned back from the
scope and rubbed his eyes, shivering at the memory of Blockade’s open skull. 
There were plenty of times when he’d questioned his judgment in signing the
contract, and as he took a bite from a nasty MRE, today was no different.  Back
then, with a pen in hand and enough alcohol mixed in with his blood stream to
sanitize his veins, it’d seemed like a good idea.  He’d been confident in his
abilities to outsmart, outclass, and outlast whoever might be thrown at him. 
    And the money.  God, could
they use the money. 
    The possibility of losing, of expiring in a whisper , and leaving behind a widow and a fatherless son
had never crossed his mind—at least not until he’d gotten word of how quickly
Geisha had eliminated Old Yeller, Powder Keg, and Shallow Grave.
    His strategy had always been
to wait it out.  Let the other rabbits and hounds kill off each other while he
stayed close to his family.  Retreat and defend when his turn had come. 
Eventually, if he managed to survive as the rabbit, when the final two
remained, he had no doubt that he would stand atop the mountain.
    Confidence can empower, but
ruin just as easily.
    Krakatoa had apparently
adopted the same strategy, of hiding and defending, and managed to stay hidden
for weeks until The Devil Himself tracked him down.
    Still yet, none of the
history, none of the rules, accounted for why Enigma had shown up.
    He wondered if Jeder für
sich was on.  Had Ares grown impatient with the waiting game?  Was that why
Enigma had been in southwest Virginia?  To let him know?  Every other bit of
information had been passed through an untraceable, off-the-grid cell phone. 
From every angle he could imagine, the reason for Enigma’s presence eluded him.
    Randall stood up, stretched
his cramped and aching back, and walked over to the west-facing rifle. 
    He fixed his eye to the
scope, and saw a hunched figure dart behind a single bale of hay.

 
    CHAPTER 9
    Mary slammed her beer bottle
onto the bar.  Over the din of drunken chatter, pool balls bouncing off green
velvet, and Hank Williams crooning on the jukebox, she said, “Are you kidding
me?” as the head bubbled up and roiled out of the bottle’s throat like cold,
white lava.  Astonished, she didn’t bother to move her hand, not even when
Chuck hesitantly pointed at the mess.