"The third round takes place outdoors. We'll give each of you a map showing the locations of the treasures. Bring back any one treasure and you'll have completed the experiment." The man with glasses put on that smug, punchable smile again and handed each of us a map.
It was a circular map of the island, with six treasure-chest icons marked on it.
Only six? There were still about twenty of us left — so this was going to be another free-for-all?
"This round pays $5,000,000, but the rules have changed. You may form teams. If your team finds a treasure, everyone on that team is considered to have completed the task. Those who fail to find treasure get nothing. The experiment starts in fifteen minutes. Prepare." The glasses man flung the main door wide. Fresh air rushed in like a blessing.
Damien gave me a look; I nodded and moved closer. A timid voice came from behind.
"Weekend, can I go with you?" Butterfly asked, eyes pleading.
"Didn't you already get money for your mother's treatment? Why don't you quit?" I asked.
"I just asked Dr. Wen. He said this round doesn't allow voluntary withdrawal." Her voice trembled.
So the glasses man was a doctor after all—what was he studying? Human perversion?
"Did you kill someone in that room?" I asked her directly.
"No—how could I? The old woman kept hitting me and choking me. I had to struggle. I pushed her and she hit the table and passed out. I didn't mean to." Butterfly shook and explained, tears running down her pale face.
My resolve softened. I took her hand and led her to Damien.
"Who is she?" Damien asked in a low voice.
"A good person," I said.
I stared at the endless sea and suddenly ached for my kind wife and my daughter. Could I ever go home?
None of us had survival skills. Butterfly had none at all. Damien snapped three sticks into crude walking staffs and walked at the front; Butterfly stayed in the middle and I brought up the rear. We chose the treasure marked to the south. On the map it was only seven or eight centimeters away; in real life it meant twenty-odd kilometers. We stumbled on for about three hours, all parched. Damien pointed to a small stream at the right edge of the woods. "Let's rest."
Girls are neat. Butterfly rolled up her sleeves and washed her face at the stream. As she was about to cup water to drink, she screamed—sharp and piercing.
Damien leapt up and ran in two quick steps. When he saw what it was, he sucked in a cold breath.
A corpse. I recognized him: the man who'd laughed crazily and bitten people in the first experiment — the one who left a bite on my arm. His body was horrifyingly torn, as if devoured alive. Flesh on his thighs was stripped clean; his eyes ripped from their sockets.
"What happened?" I felt the danger like a hand on my neck.
"Hyenas. There are hyenas in this forest. We have to leave now. They've left the body and will be back soon." Sweat dotted Damien's forehead as he grabbed his pack and urged us to run.
But it was too late. A faint breath came from above. I looked up and saw a pair of yellow-black eyes. A hyena crouched, slime dripping from its teeth.
"You run to the waterfall ahead and wait! Go!" Damien shoved us forward and drew his dagger.
In an instant the hyena leapt onto Damien's shoulder. Its teeth were blades—one bite tore a chunk of flesh away. Damien screamed, slashed back, and drove his blade into the animal's belly. Man versus beast, and in this wild, the advantage belongs to the beast.
The hyena yelped and leapt back; its entrails slithered from its belly. It raised its head and made a hair-raising call.
"It's calling its pack—run!" Damien shouted.
He spun, and another hyena sank its jaws into his leg. Already mortally wounded, he still fought with savage ferocity; no wonder these animals dominate the African plains. He and the hyena rolled together, locked in battle. I gritted my teeth, grabbed Butterfly—who was frozen with fear—and dragged her west, away from the sound.
"We'll wait for you up ahead," I screamed over my shoulder.
"All right," he called, not looking back, and struck again at the hyena's neck.
Our survival instincts drove us beyond the limits of our bodies. By the time we reached the base of the waterfall, my legs felt numb, and each breath burned like molten iron in my throat.
"He… he didn't follow us," Butterfly panted, bending over to catch her breath.
"We wait here. He will come." I dropped my backpack onto a rock and surveyed the surrounding terrain.
According to the map, we were only two or three kilometers from the final "treasure spot." If Damien could survive the dangers ahead, the three of us could complete the task.
The sun slowly sank into the earth, and the sea wind chilled us as the temperature dropped. Butterfly began shivering. I gathered a few dry branches to start a fire.
"Weekend… Weekend…" Butterfly's face was pale as she looked at me.
"What is it?" I walked over slowly.
A blood-red crested snake had silently slithered onto a rock opposite Butterfly. It coiled like a spring, its fan-like crest trembling as it hissed an eerie, sinister sound.
"Don't move. Don't startle it. Venomous snakes rarely attack unless provoked. It will conserve its venom," I whispered, keeping my voice low.
Butterfly struggled to stay calm, but the near-freezing temperature made her shiver uncontrollably. The snake coiled tighter, preparing to strike.
"It's about to attack."
"I'll distract it. You focus on evading," I gritted my teeth and gripped the branch Damien had sharpened for us. I blew a sharp whistle.
As expected, the snake snapped its head toward me, its grotesque, evil face locked onto mine.
How fast could it strike? I had no experience, but it must be almost as fast as a bullet.
Then there was no choice—I had to strike first. I swung the branch. The snake lunged simultaneously, like an arrow loosed from a bow. My hand collided with its body; the snake flew backward, landing behind a rock and disappearing from sight.
I exhaled, but before I could celebrate, pain shot up my right leg. Another snake had come from behind—of course, snakes could attack from both directions: one feint, one sneak attack.
The world spun. With my last strength, I swung the branch at the second snake's head. The impact splattered greenish venom, and the snake flipped over, motionless.
It was over. Everything was over.
Exhausted, I collapsed to the ground, staring at the darkening sky. My life, so ordinary yet fought with all I had, was ending in this absurd way. There was a strange irony in it.
"Weekend!" Butterfly flung herself onto me, clutching me tightly and calling my name over and over.
The scent of the young girl reminded me of my wife. Years ago, she had embraced me like this. My eyes closed heavily, and my consciousness began sinking, as if into an endless abyss.