Run

by Blake Crouch

shocking films shot by holidaymakers. The first was initially believed to show a dolphin fishing

Gddhhdyd

salmon — until closer examination revealed a relentless attack on a porpoise … The team described the mammals’ injuries as “perhaps the worst example of inter-specific aggression any of us had ever

Shdhhe

Hdhhe

of lethal raiding among chimpanzees. Until the attack … scientists treated the remarkable violence of humanity as something uniquely ours. Scientists thought that only humans deliberately sought out and killed members of their own

twisted metal—three hangars, long since toppled upon a half dozen single- and twin-engine airplanes. She watches the Beechcraft that brought her here lift off the ground, props screaming,

sun blazing down on her bare shoulders. The grass that grazes her sandaled feet still cold with dew. Someone jogs toward her, and beyond them she can see the team already at work, imagines they started the moment the light became worth

near the northern edge of the forest. Still probably an insufficient distance to avoid the stink when the wind blows out of the south. “Good flight in?” he asks. “Little

books in my thesis.” “That’s great. Good luck with it.” “You know, there’s a few decent bars in town. Maybe we could get together and talk sometime?” She lifts the strap of her heavy bag, swings it onto the other shoulder, and ducks under

people, seemingly oblivious to the flies and the stench, each in their respective worlds, doing what they walk this earth to do. She sits down and watches them work. Nearby, a man with shoulder-length graying hair buries a pickax into a wall of dirt. A young woman—probably