Evan was walking down the street. On the buildings to the left hung signs marking a yellow zone. On the right, signs marked a red zone.
Cameras were mounted on the lampposts.
Shadows seemed to prowl across the rooftops.
Everyone who could stayed in the yellow zone. When they had to cross into the red, their level of alertness rose to an almost indescribable degree.
At school, he had often heard that these border areas were particularly dangerous because hunters supposedly lurked in such places the most, watching for potential prey.
But his mind was occupied with something else.
"Olive oil… olive oil… How much olive oil is Callisa actually going to need?"
He looked at his hand.
"Probably a whole carton. Maybe I should grab a shopping cart."
For a moment he considered going back, but decided he could manage and kept walking. He spotted a shop on the other side of the street. On the window was the sign "Craft Olive And Oil".
"Perfect."
Without fear — and partly without full awareness — he stepped into the red zone. For a brief second he felt like he was being watched, but he quickly brushed the feeling aside. He stopped right in front of the shop. He had the impression he saw something in the display window, but figured it was just his imagination. He'd quickly buy the olive oil and head back to the dorm. With that thought, he reached for the door handle when something suddenly occurred to him.
"Spices? We're going to need a lot of spices."
He stepped back into the yellow zone and headed toward the general market.
"Kitchen twine!" — he crossed into the red zone.
"Vegetables!" — back to the yellow zone.
He zigzagged along, moving from zone to zone. In his head, ingredients and kitchen tools kept appearing. One moment in one zone, the next in the other. Around and around he went, until he heard a frustrated roar behind him.
"Have you completely lost your mind?! You've been wandering like this for days! Maybe finally make up your damn mind?!"
He turned around and his eyes widened. Behind him stood a young jaguar.
What happened next was pure instinct. Evan jumped back and started running.
The jaguar froze for a second, but quickly recovered. Frustration filled his voice.
"Are you provoking me or are you just an idiot?!"
Evan glanced at the building, jumped into the red zone, looked left and right.
The next thing he did was completely unconscious. He started fleeing… straight into the heart of the red zone. The jaguar's eyes widened. He looked at the zone sign, realized he himself had entered the red zone, and smiled predatorily.
"Now I can," he began the chase.
Evan ran. He didn't know where to. He just ran. His body had automatically switched into full flight mode. He managed to glance at a building sign.
"Red?"
Several thoughts flashed through his head. None of them warned him of danger. Even so, he kept running. His body was practically moving on its own, heading in a direction it didn't fully understand.
Right.
Left.
Straight ahead.
Over a fence.
He looked back. The jaguar was still chasing him. He sped up. For some reason he felt strangely light. The adrenaline pulsing through him was almost pleasurable. He ran, even though he wasn't entirely sure why he was running.
The jaguar pursued him relentlessly.
"Damn, he's fast."
In the meantime, he remembered being nagged about adding more hours at the gym and doing cardio. He had to leap over obstacles just to keep up.
Yet he felt the adrenaline building, along with something else. An instinct urging him to run faster. The whole world narrowed down to him and his prey. Only the hunt seemed to exist. Endorphins flooded his nervous system, turning into euphoria. Every time he closed the distance brought a small rush of satisfaction.
"Now I understand what Father meant."
They ran through the alleys until they burst into an abandoned park.
There, something suddenly struck Evan.
"Why am I even running?"
That thought was critical. He slowed down for a moment — and then felt a sudden impact on his back.
He felt himself falling onto the grass. Then a blow to the back of his neck. He felt himself drifting away. In the last moment, he felt a pang of disappointment that it was already over.
The jaguar straightened up, breathing heavily.
He looked around. No one was nearby. A feeling of triumph flooded his brain.
"Damn, that was even better than the track."
He reached into the small pouch on his belt, pulled out a decorative cord, and tied up his catch. Then he took out his phone and made a call.
"Emilio. Come pick me up and tell Father I have a trophy."