Demarkus's Arc

Chapter 3 of 3

Demarkus stepped outside to check the perimeter. Fresh boot prints led away from the cabin toward the northern edge of the grounds. He followed them past three stone cottages and a weather tower, where the tracks veered sharply toward a cluster of rocks near a frozen stream. One formation caught his eye—too symmetrical, too deliberately placed. He brushed snow from its surface and found the lens. A camera, built into the rock itself, pointed directly at the cabin doors. He traced the wiring back through the snow to a junction box hidden beneath the tower's base. From there, cables split in four directions. He followed each one. More cameras. One tucked into a cottage windowsill. Another behind a carved caribou sculpture near the lodge. A fourth embedded in the frame of the community board where contestants posted messages. Every place they gathered, every path they walked—watched. Demarkus stood in the cold and made his choice. He pulled his notebook from his coat and sketched each camera location with exact measurements. Tonight, at dinner, he'd show everyone. Some would panic. Some would blame each other. But they'd all know the truth, and knowing changed everything. He found Priya first, then tracked down Lars and Mia near the old campfire circle someone had built between the cabins. The fire crackled against the evening cold. Cushions ringed the flames, already occupied by six others. Demarkus held up his notebook. "I need to show you something," he said. He explained what he'd found. Pointed to his sketches. Named the locations. Fiona stood up immediately, face tight with anger. Owen shook his head, muttering about trust. But Lars leaned forward and asked the question that mattered: "What do we do about it?" Demarkus looked around the circle. They were listening. They were angry, confused, some betrayed—but they were together, and they knew his name. He'd set out to know them all. Now they'd have to decide what kind of group they'd become.