The Hunt (5 page)

- Non-consensual vaginal or anal intercourse. Condoms must be used at all times.

- Piercing of nipples or genitals with one-inch sterile needles. To avoid infection, each

needle may only be used once.

- Shocks delivered via electrodes attached to any part of the body below the neck.

Electrical devices in the playroom limit frequency and voltage to ensure safety. No

shocks may be administered until consent has been given by a doctor.

- Insertion of no more than three fingers, or of devices intended for such a purpose, into

vagina or anus.

- Clamps attached to nipples or genitals.

- Suspension by rope.

- Confinement in a cage designed to maintain a stress position for a period not exceeding

eight hours.

- Straddling a wooden horse for a period not exceeding eight hours.

None of the following are permitted:

- Striking the face or head.

- Punches to any part of the body.

- Activities which threaten to cut off air supply, including strangulation, immersion in

water and suspension by the neck.

- Activities which are likely to result in permanent injury or disfigurement (beyond light

scarring), or are potentially life-threatening.

- Branding.

- Activities involving knives, scalpels or other sharp objects.

- Activities involving excrement or urine.

- Activities involving animals.

Once you have been captured, you will be examined by a doctor every twelve hours.

Any complaints you may have concerning mistreatment must be made to this doctor at

the first available opportunity. It is the Hunter's responsibility to feed you during your

period of captivity. Hunters will be required to meet the costs of medical expenses

resulting from their activities. Any Hunter whose behaviour results in the death of a

captive will be prosecuted to the fullest extent of the law.

As soon as the alarm signalling the end of the Hunt has sounded, the Hunter must

immediately escort you to the arena exit. You will then be free to leave.

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Putting down the pamphlet, Mara became aware of a warm feeling between her legs, and realised she'd lost control of her bladder. She ran to the bathroom, threw up in the toilet, and sat there for several minutes with her head slumped over the bowl, trying to process the information she'd just received. She'd known that the Hunt involved acts of sexual sadism, but had no idea such extremes were permitted. It resembled that demented priest's vision of Hell. She couldn't stop thinking about how the place where these things were done was called
a 'playroom'. It was as if these men, these 'Hunters', were children playing with living toys. Using all her strength, she stood up, removed her wet clothes, and walked towards the kitchen. After throwing her jeans and underwear into the washing machine, she returned to the bathroom and took a shower. The hot water proved momentarily calming, and helped her to think clearly. Simply in order to maintain her sanity and get through the next few days, she needed to take a proactive approach. The first thing to do was consult a doctor and see if she could obtain an exemption. Stepping out of the shower, she dried herself and put on a bathrobe. Deciding to use the phone in her office - the thought of entering the living room and seeing that horrendous pamphlet again was intolerable - she called Soho Medical Centre and made an appointment for the following day, then slumped in her work chair, wondering what to do next. It would obviously be necessary to inform Yuke. She dreaded doing this, and her initial impulse was to put it off as long as possible. But her lover had the right to know, and if their positions were reversed, Mara would expect Yuke to share the news immediately. She couldn't cope with a phone conversation, though. Closing the text file she'd been working on before the doorbell rang, she accessed her email account and typed the following message:

--------------------------------

To: [email protected]

From: [email protected]

Subject: Hunt

Dearest
Yuke - This is one of the most difficult emails I've ever had to write. I just

received a letter telling me I must take part in a Hunt. I will have to leave on the 23rd.

I'm so scared.

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Mara hit 'send' without giving herself a chance to think, then wondered if it had been a good idea to tell Yuke how scared she was. There was no need to upset her more than necessary, and it would be better to put on a brave face. She quickly wrote another message:

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To: [email protected]

From: [email protected]

Subject: Hunt 2

I'm seeing a doctor tomorrow. Maybe I can be exempted on health grounds.

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Although Mara didn't really think she'd be exempted, this at least provided a faint glimmer of hope. But what should she do now? Resume work on her novel? The idea was
laughable. She suddenly became aware of how tired she felt: it was as if the emotional exhaustion caused by her conscription had induced a state of physical exhaustion. She shuffled towards her bedroom, collapsed on the bed, and fell into a deep sleep filled with vague, but disturbing dreams of pursuit and capture, from which she was awakened by the sound of a doorbell. Glancing at her bedside clock, she discovered that she'd been asleep for almost three hours. Racing towards the front door, she yanked it open and found Yuke standing there with a look of distress on her face. Yuke embraced Mara without saying a word. Mara had managed not to cry so far, but with her face buried in Yuke's shoulder, the floodgates opened, and she sobbed uncontrollably while Yuke stroked her hair. Mara felt the desire to make love...no, not to make love, to fuck, mindlessly, to lose herself in physical sensation. She pulled Yuke into the bedroom. Yuke didn't have to be told what Mara needed and why she needed it. They spent the next two hours using their intimacy as a defence against the encroaching darkness, stopping only when they were too exhausted to continue.

As they lay side by side on the bed,
Yuke put her arm around Mara and asked if she wanted something to eat. Mara noticed it was already seven o'clock. The whole day had passed in a haze, and she hadn't eaten since breakfast. They decided to send for a pizza, and Yuke walked out naked to the living room to place the order. Mara heard her talking on the phone, then waited for her to return. Several minutes passed, and Mara began to wonder if Yuke was okay. Tiptoeing into the room, she found Yuke sitting on the sofa reading the Hunt pamphlet, tears pouring down her face. As she heard Mara enter, Yuke looked at her with fierce determination and said, “We have to get you out of the country, or at least find a place for you to hide. We can't let them do these things.”

Mara sat down next to
Yuke and put an arm around her. “Honey, you know it's impossible. There's no way to leave the country, and if I tried to hide, they'd find me eventually. Then it would be even worse.”

“
But maybe...we could find someone at Dover who has a boat and...”

Mara kissed her on the cheek.
“It wouldn't do any good, sweetie. Let me see the doctor tomorrow. If that doesn't work...well, it's only one week out of my life, and then I can put the whole thing behind me.”

They sat there silently, waiting for the food to arrive. It wasn't until Mara heard the doorbell that she realised they were both naked; she hurriedly pulled on her bathrobe before opening the door and paying the deliveryman. After eating the food, Mara suggested they watch something really depressing that would put her own problems in perspective, and eventually decided on Michael
Haneke's
The Seventh Continent
, in which members of a family meticulously destroy all their possessions prior to committing suicide. The film made Mara recall her own parents' suicide, which also seemed to have been a protest against an intolerable situation. Would it have been better if they'd taken her with them? On the whole, she thought not. Despite the horrors that awaited her, she still loved life, and believed it worth fighting for. She felt strangely calm. She'd absorbed the bad news, and now experienced a sense almost of relief that the letter she'd been dreading for years had finally arrived. Despite having already slept for several hours, she was pleasantly tired. In bed, Yuke held her all night, and her presence kept away bad dreams.

Chapter 4

At least that was how it initially appeared to Mara. But just before dawn, she felt
Yuke's grip tighten, and heard her moaning. That was when she realised Yuke had not kept away bad dreams, but rather absorbed them. Mara’s first encounter with this mysterious talent occurred the night before her punishment centre appointment. Yuke had lain alongside her then as well, enabling her to enjoy a deep and dreamless sleep. When Mara had awoke, she’d seen that Yuke was covered in sweat, her head moving rapidly from side to side as she fought off some hallucinated torment.

Now the same thing seemed to be happening again. As Mara eased herself out of
Yuke's arms and stroked her forehead, she heard her mumbling, “Please, don't. I beg you. I can't take it,” then a few words in Japanese, and finally something that sounded like, “I can't move. All I can do is watch.” Mara thought of Yuke as a dreamcatcher, but in a sense the process worked both ways.

Three years ago,
Yuke had been groped in the street by a drunken police officer. She'd endured the assault for as long as possible, but when the man undid her blouse, pulled up her bra, and began caressing her breasts, she spat in his face. She was immediately arrested, and ended up being prosecuted for assault. The officer claimed he'd been sober and conducting a random search, and since a policeman's word counted for a lot more than that of a mere female, the trial was a perfunctory affair which lasted only ten minutes. It concluded with the Judge sentencing Yuke to have the little finger on her left hand removed. Yuke was required to pay for the operation, which would be carried out without anaesthetic: it cost more than she earned in six months. She had medical insurance, but judicial amputations weren't covered by her policy, since her healthcare provider classified them as 'unnecessary surgery'. Mara insisted on selling some stocks she'd inherited to help raise the money. Other than that, there didn't seem to be anything she could do to alleviate Yuke's distress.

When the day of the operation arrived, Mara accompanied
Yuke to the hospital, but had to watch helplessly as her lover was taken into the operating theatre. While she sat in the waiting room, Mara noticed that the little finger on her left hand had begun to ache. She put this down to sympathy pains, and forget all about it when Yuke reappeared two hours later, her face streaked with tears and a large white bandage wrapped around her hand. Acting on the orders of the court, the surgeon had injected Yuke with a pain enhancer, as well as a drug designed to neutralise the effect of painkillers for twenty-four hours. She spent the rest of the day curled up in a ball on Mara's bed, eyes tightly closed, screaming in agony. In the evening, however, Mara's own hand started throbbing again. She looked at it, and was astonished to see that the little finger had swelled to twice its normal size. As Mara's discomfort increased, Yuke's sobs lessened. Towards midnight, Yuke opened her eyes and said, “It's so strange. My hand's gone completely numb.” By this point, Mara was in such agony she could barely speak. Yuke rested peacefully for the rest of that night, while Mara lay there with her face buried in a pillow, trying to stifle her cries. The next morning, Mara's pain gradually decreased as Yuke's returned, but the injection wore off later that afternoon, and a powerful analgesic soon put an end to Yuke's torment. From that day, the two women knew their connection to be more powerful than any of the brutal masculine forces arrayed against them. The symbolism of the amputation was clear enough: Yuke had defied a representative of patriarchal law, and been subjected to an act of castration. But every time Mara looked at the stump on Yuke's hand, she thought less of powerlessness than of the specifically female strength represented by their bond.

And now, this bond was making its presence known once more. Mara shook
Yuke gently, trying to ease her out of the nightmare. Yuke awoke almost instantly, sitting up and gasping for air. It was not necessary for either of them to say a word about what had happened. They never talked directly about their shared talent, perhaps fearing that exposing this gift to the cold light of rational discussion would cause it to vanish.

While
Yuke took a shower, Mara went to check her email. Her inbox contained seven new messages which seemed almost absurd in their ignorance of her changed circumstances. How could she concern herself with an amusing photograph, a link to an article on detective fiction - in which Melissa Valance was briefly mentioned - or a dinner invitation? Such things belonged to another person, another world. She tried convincing herself that there was still some hope of returning to that world, that the doctor might ride to her rescue, like a knight on a white charger. But she knew full well that the chances of this happening were virtually nonexistent. She thought of the door-keeper in Kafka's
The Trial
, who tells the man attempting to bribe him, “I take this only to keep you from feeling that you have left something undone.”