"A short, hoarse cry came from his lips as he realized he had reached too far and had lost his balance. The cry was pinched off short as the blood-warm waters of the Caribbean Sea closed over his head." He swam to the shore of an island. It seemed deserted, but he knew better. He had heard gunshots before he fell asleep, so men must be close. Once he looked around, he noticed an empty twenty-two cartridge and prints of hunting boots along the cliff. He quickly followed the prints, hoping to find food and shelter. He did not know that the man wearing the hunting boots, would soon be hunting him, he was now the prey.

It was a game. The man would lure people to the island, then to his house. Once they reached the house, he would explain the rules of the game. They were...