Murmurs go through our group, discussing what that means, but whatever it is, I’m starting to panic. We’re going to be hunted? Hunted by what? What the actual fuck is going on here and why does this feel like the beginning of a shitty movie? Is Arnold Schwarzenegger going to bust out of the bushes and punk us?

“Inside the crates, you’ll find weapons and items you may need to survive. Gather what you think you’ll need. You’re going to need it.”

I watch as some of the men move together, clearly teaming up already, deciding who is with who. It’s human nature to want backup when someone threatens you, and clearly this is a threat if we’re going to be hunted like wild animals. Something tells me we’re not just going to laugh and sing kumbaya when we’re caught. Safety in numbers is always a smart idea and I glance at the Asian man curiously. He’s been kind and not once has he looked at me lewdly like some of the others. He’s my safest bet right now.

The man passes me a small hunting knife and I take it and shove it inside the duffle bag, not questioning his choices at all. He holds up a 9mm pistol.

“Do you know how to use this?” he asks gently, as if I’m a frightened chipmunk. I’m sure my face isn’t too far off from that. Though I haven’t cried, my face feels puffy and raw. As a woman in this situation, I’ll be facing far different scenarios than the men who gather around. As the only woman, I can’t imagine what might happen.

I nod. “I’ve taken some classes.”

And I have. I’ve taken self defense classes and spent a part of my life going to the practice range. I may be a little rusty with my aim, but I know how to clean and shoot a gun if the need arises. I’m thankful that Holly dragged me along with her to those things. She carries a gun in her purse all the time now. Maybe I should start carrying one.

He passes me the handgun and I tuck it into the pocket of his suit jacket for safe keeping. He hands me a few more clips full of bullets and I shove them inside too, feeling the comforting weight there. At least I won’t be unarmed.

The loud speaker crackles to life again and for a minute, all we hear is heavy breathing, as if the person pressed the button too soon.

“Oh, and if you think you’re going to team up,” the voice says, and everyone freezes at the tone. “You might want to rethink such tactics.” The group starts to eye each other, confused. “At the end, the last Prey standing will walk away with their life. . .and fifty million united states dollars.”