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know this?’ Mickey sounded scornful, even though he loved a good conspiracy theory as much as the next man.
    â€˜One of the other guys in enforcement, well, his ex-girlfriend used to be a runner on the show. She told him everything, but swore him to secrecy, and not just so she wouldn’t lose her job. I mean, people would go mad if the truth got out. They love the idea that someone’s going to come along and take Darien down, but they love the fact he always wins in the end even more.’
    I bite back a sour laugh. At the time, I’d been just as sceptical as Mickey, but that was before I went for my annual medical assessment. Whatever notes the doctor scribbled on my form led to my being called up for this year’s game. I hadn’t been able to refuse – not when the alternative was three years’ prison time – and I duly took my place alongside the other seven hopefuls hoping to dethrone Darien. Now, as I crouch among the reeds, tired and in dire need of a hot shower, listening to those soft footfalls come ever closer, I can’t help wondering if Fox was right. Has someone told Darien where I’m hiding and, if so, what chance do I have of escaping him?
    Keeping my wits about me is half the battle. I clutch the length of chain tighter in my hand, partly for reassurance, partly because it’s the only weapon I have. Darien has the rope – and now I wonder if he really did get it through random chance, or if that too was preordained. He wields it like a pro, just like he does everything.
    â€˜Hey, Venness, I’m coming for you!’ It’s Darien’s trademark cry, guaranteed to strike fear into the souls of his opponents when he calls their name. Usually, it’s the last thing anyone hears before he bears down on them, and I know he’s got to be almost on top of me now. But he hasn’t yet spotted me, as I flatten myself a little closer to the boggy ground, feeling dampness seep through my combat gear to add to all the little miseries that make surviving the game for any length of time such a challenge. The TV helicopter is circling, its blades making a relentless chopping sound above my head. They have night vision, thermal imaging; they must know where I am. And if Fox is right, they can relay that information to Darien any time they like.
    Peering out from my hiding place, I see booted feet, squelching in the mud. He’s so close, and still he doesn’t see me. I’ve only got one chance here, and I’ve got to make the most of it, because once he knows where I am, it’s all over. Somewhere close by, a bird lets out a raucous caw. Darien turns in the direction of the noise – whether he thinks it’s me, calling in an attempt at parley, I have no idea, but he’s distracted just long enough for me to throw the chain across his path in a haphazard loop. When he steps forward again, his foot lands in the circle of links, and I tug hard, pulling the chain toward me and sending him sprawling.
    Seeing the big man lying in the mud is shocking, having built him up in my mind into some invincible stalking machine, but I know I’ve only got a moment to press home my advantage. Leaping out from the reeds, I fling myself on top of him, using my full weight to hold him down while I wrestle the rope from his belt.
    â€˜Venness, what the fuck do you think you’re playing at?’ he roars, wriggling beneath me in an attempt to shake me loose. But I’m running on adrenaline and pure exhilaration; the feeling of having brought the champion low gives me a strength I never knew I possessed till now. Wrestling first one of his wrists, then the other, into the small of his back, I loop the rope around them, tying it almost painfully tight. Having caught him, there’s no way I’m letting him slip free.
    But having him trussed and helpless on the ground is only half of what’s required. I have to finish