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have. The days of the witch hunt might just resume. We must do everything in our power to ensure that never happens.”
    â€œWhat are you suggesting?” Tim asked.
    â€œWe must look to expand beyond our borders. Our kind
must
come into positions of power outside of New Haven. If we don’t do this, I’m afraid our existence will be a short one.”
    Darwin continued explaining his vision in more detail. His two students listened without interruption.

Chapter Four
    The bond between the captives quickly eroded. Less than two minutes running full tilt ahead of the hunt, the frontrunner had already pulled well ahead of the others…so much so the dawdler’s whimpers could barely be heard.
    Nancy Betmin was a former Ridgemount track star and although she had been out of school for many years, she had kept up her athleticism. Six months of imprisonment had eaten away at her frame considerably, but the fresh air and prospect of freedom gave her the energy and drive she needed to pull away from the others. She had no idea of where she was or where she would go, only the knowledge that she needed to move quickly and take any opportunity that appeared.
    It was no secret what she was up against. For months captives in Special Handling had known what their purpose was. The prisoners knew they were nothing more than a frozen dinner waiting to be consumed by the next hungry beast. Folklore was discussed, plans were formulated, but as their numbers continued to decline the prisoners began giving up and opting for death, instead. At feeding time, the defeated would make their way to level one and hand themselves over to bring about an end to their suffering. On this night Nancy and three others were the lucky ones selected. In the early days of Special Handling, selecting people to die was difficult—now the opposite was true. Death was a gift. When prisoners were requested to hand themselves over on level one, anyone wishing to die could go when called; but not all would be selected.
    Nancy had gone to level one every day for two weeks hoping she would be selected. It was Darwin himself that chose Nancy. From a platform beyond the gates, Darwin pointed at the young woman and told her to move forward. He had only selected her because out of the entire crowd she appeared to be the most worthy to offer him an honorable chase.
    Now panting heavily, Nancy ploughed through the bushes in search of a safe harbor. Her eyes had adapted to the darkness of the mine and she found being outside, she was able to see better at night than ever before. Finite details emerged to her within the blur of leaves and rocks. All she could do was keep moving and pray for a miracle. Time was no longer a certainty.
    Was it one minute, or five?
    She knew she had ten minutes but how many had already elapsed? A selfish thought entered her mind; she would know how close they were by the screams of death coming from behind. There would be three, but so far there had been none.
    She would keep running no matter how much her body hurt.
    â€œThink, Nancy!” she mumbled to herself under her short breath.
    Nancy knew her clock was running out and if she had any hope of survival, she had to become inventive in her thinking. She knew running was a waste of time, but it was also necessary to put distance between herself and her killers. In her heart she knew out running her attackers could never succeed. She was simply too weak. She needed to mask her scent and attempt to hide; perhaps waiting out her hunters’ patience. She ran ideas through her mind but without certainty of what could actually work, desperation began to set in. Breathing deeply through her nose, she hoped she would catch the scent of another animal or plant…but all she found was snot sickles draining from her nostrils.
    The silhouette of a path emerged; it was narrow but defined, like a game trail. She locked her sights on the constricted line and quickened her pace.