Chapitre 10: (3)The Shuttle

Though Alexandre had just explained how William might save the girl who had overdosed—while still allowing William to continue in the Hunter trials—it would be no easy matter.

Only a few moments after Alexandre had finished speaking, another of the flare-powered Hunter's red bursts of power exploded in the air above the track.

Yet another round of running had begun.

Though William had seemed completely useless to Alexandre before now, he immediately showed a level of versatility which surprised Alexandre. The rich boy reached into one of the many pockets on the front of his expensive survival jacket, quickly pulling out a tiny, compact survival kit.

From this kit, he pulled a scalpel and a small straw designed to filter water in the wilderness. William barely hesitated before pulling the hard plastic sheath from the end of the scalpel and then stabbing the girl in the side of her throat.

A horrible rasping sound came from the wound as the girl's lungs tried desperately to use the new source of air. In the next moment, William had cut the heavy filter off his portable water filter and then had inserted the sturdy straw into the incision in the girl's throat.

Her body convulsed again, but this time, it wasn't a seizure. Rather, it was an involuntary movement of relief as her body was suddenly able to get oxygen and get rid of carbon dioxide again, despite the foam frothing from her mouth!

But though this emergency tracheotomy had saved the girl's life in the short term, she would require some sort of chemical treatment to counteract whatever drugs she'd taken. That would require William to follow Alexandre's suggestion and deposit her outside the training grounds.

And if William was going to preserve his own chances of becoming a Hunter, that meant he needed to transport her to the far end of the running track… before his time ran out!

However, William was already exhausted by the multiple kilometers he'd already run, as well as the stress and excitement of the last few moments. He tried to hoist the girl onto his shoulders in a fireman's carry, but his knees buckled and he collapsed to the ground.

Despite all the survival training William's rich family had forced him to endure during his youth, the skills which had let him perform that tracheotomy just now, William's physical strength was simply inadequate for the task at hand. Perhaps his parents should have been far more strict than they had been…

All of this happened in less than thirty seconds. Most others in the crowd of candidates did just as Alexandre had at first: they tried to ignore the suffering girl who had brought this upon herself. After all, nobody had forced her to take those drugs.

Yet, many of them couldn't help but glance back as they began their run, seeing the determination in William's eyes as he worked with skill and speed to save the girl's life.

Despite themselves, many candidates couldn't help but feel moved by William's words: was it true that they were no better than the zombies who had devoured most of the world if they let a person die alone?

Pity stirred in many hearts. After all, fame, fortune, and power weren't the only reasons people wanted to become Hunters. Many, indeed, wanted to become Hunters to protect the world… and the innocent people within it.

But that certainly didn't mean they were willing to abandon their own chances of becoming Hunters simply to help a drug abuser, of course… someone who had tried to cheat a way to surpass them!

Nonetheless, William tried with all of his might to drag the girl along the track. He couldn't carry her properly, but he did what he could, even though it drained him of his precious remaining energy with every step.

Alexandre, looking back at William, rolled his eyes. "That's what I hate about people who grow up rich," he muttered. "They have it so good that they don't understand the injustice of the world. They really believe we can reach some kind of utopia if everyone just helps each other. Well, he'll grow up soon enough."

But then something even more surprising happened.

Marlon and Alexandre had been keeping a steady pace this whole time. The muscular African-American had been clasping his hand to his side even harder than before. It was clear that the broken ribs which Alexandre had given him were growing more and more painful with every passing moment.

But now Marlon stopped.

He turned around, the sweat of agony glistening on his dark forehead.

And he began running back to the starting line.

Alexandre stared at him in shock.

William was quite surprised as well. "W-what?" he gasped.

Marlon finally reached William. He held out his hand. "Well, white boy? You just gonna stand there all bug-eyed, or do you want a hand?"

A wary look crossed William's face, but it didn't seem like there could be any trickery involved, so he took Marlon's hand and let the gangster drag him upright to his feet.

"That's better," said Marlon. "Listen, your weak ass might not be cut out for this, but I'm strong enough. Hoist this bitch onto my back and try to keep up!"

Tears of relief again filled William's eyes. "Thanks," he said.

Then, once the girl was hoisted over Marlon's shoulders in the same carry that William had failed at, William devoted every particle of his focus toward one goal: reaching the finish line before the next flare went off.

He had no idea how long he'd been trying to drag the girl. It had felt like an eternity, and he'd been so distracted that he hadn't even marked the time when the current sprint had begun. All he knew was that almost everyone else was far, far ahead.

But even though he was well beyond his normal limits, even though sweat streamed into his eyes and blinded him, even though his shins and every muscle in his legs hurt, even though he tasted blood from tripping and biting his tongue, William kept going.

For the first time in his entire life, William felt alive.

He was confident that he would succeed… this time.

But if "The Shuttle" continued even a single more time without a rest, William doubted he could endure it.