“Row?” I ask, running on bare feet. The marble beneath them is cold to the touch, freezing my toes after having spent so long in the humidity on the island.

“He’s following,” Achilles answers.

If I wasn’t panting from panic and running, I might have sighed in relief at that fact. Some part of me thought Row might get caught up in all of this, a reminder of what he could lose if he follows us even though Hounds are untouchable. They won’t take kindly to Prey winning. They won’t accept this defeat.

The alarm that shrieks over the speakers makes my head feel like it’s splitting as high pitched as it is. I don’t know why they have to make it sound like an air raid warning, but it does the job. People swarm behind us, most of them shouting and complaining about lost bets. None of them have guns.

Not until the guards appear from doors on the side and give chase. They don’t fire though, too many Hounds in the way.

I glance behind me, searching the crowd until I find Row where he sprints after us. We have our guns, but I don’t want to pull it out yet, afraid I can’t run and fire at the same time. Creed has no such qualms. He jerks his suit jacket off and tosses it away, revealing the rifle he’d been wearing strapped to his back. He slings it over his shoulder and turns, sprinting backwards like some psycho terminator. He fires the rifle once, twice, aiming at the guards.

“Get your ass in gear, Row!” he snarls, clearly picking off the guards getting too close to our Hound.

As if Creed’s command gives him an extra boost of speed, Row appears beside me, his arms pumping. I glance at him, but I can’t say anything, not when I’m so out of breath. Still, the meeting of our eyes is all we need, saying what can’t be said.

I’m here.

“Go! Go! Go!” Achilles shouts. He flicks out a knife and starts stabbing at people who draw too close. The rich bitches scream and stumble back. A few of them even faint like in the movies despite no one even getting stabbed. Hell, some of them are nowhere close enough to be hurt and they faint. Drama queens.

Predator Point is smaller than Prey Island. It’s barely a half mile long, large enough to host an epic party but small enough to keep things compact. The living quarters are on the second floor according to Row, but the port makes up another half mile once we get outside. A new alarm sounds, warning everyone that the doors are about to be locked down.