Extend the Story - Add a Room

The motor-bike passes beneath your perch in the tree and you soon climb down, following the wheel impressions left in the forrest ground.

The bike heads West at the river-side, following the current downstream. The roar of it's motor grows ever distant as you walk until suddenly you do not hear it at all.

"198 contestants remain," comes the automated voce from above, updating the current death toll to two.

As you follow the tire impressions you keep yourself as much out of clear view as possible, always keeping a few trees before you and the path that runs along the river.

You wonder if your fans at home are glued to their televsions and waving foamy hands in the air as you track down the contestant. You wonder with a smirk how many of the ladies are disappointed that you are not wearing your tight spandex shorts.

You are startled from your musings by a loud andry snort that from your left. It sounds like an animal, and an unfreindly one at that.

The automated voice again updates the body count to three, "197" contestants remain".

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