A Hunter By Any Name (4 page)

Days later I found myself sitting on a bed in another motel. But I liked this one much better. The motel I was in was a throwback to the time before interstates. It was just a little motel owned by an elderly couple that said they had run it for the last 45 years. Fred, the old man had informed me of that fact during checked in after I asked if cash would be acceptable. Only in Fred’s mind was the length of time he had run the motel related to the fact that they still took cash. Fred had told me all about raising his 4 boys in the motel. He told me how they grew up, graduated from high school and went away to college. He told me where they lived now, which ones were married, how many children they had. He then started to circle back around to the beginning. He told me about teaching his boys to count back change while they stood up on the milk crate next to him. In the end after ranting about how now the computers do all the math and counting back change is a lost skill he said cash would be fine.

I leaned my head back against the wood head board that had seen better days and sighed in contentment. The comforter on the bed was a faded floral pattern that I think at one time had been red but now was a faded pink at best. The carpet was an old brown thing with a worn trail from the door, around the bed and to the bathroom. However, everything in the room was clean and spotless. Yes, I would take old and clean any day.

This morning I had been in search of an activity to help me pass a day or two before I headed to Michigan. I needed to give anyone from my previous hunt that might be tracking me a chance to catch up and find me. I didn’t want to be in the middle of a new hunt when someone found me. Then I would become the prey while I was the hunter. That would be a good way to get killed.

After getting over my initial disappointment about the fact Wyoming did not have the cliff with the dead president’s faces on it I was mildly hopeful when I had driven into the Yellow Stone National Park this morning. Wyoming may not have dead President’s faces but it did have Yellow Stone National Park and Old Faithful.

I had been looking forward to my visit to the park. It was still early June and the weather should be warm but not too hot. Most kids should still be in school so there should not be too many screaming kids. Plus it was a Tuesday so the park should not be busy. To top it all off the view of the mountains should be spectacular. I thought all this as I drove by the brown sign that read “Now Entering Yellow Stone National Park.”

The first sign that all those
should’s
were not going to be so had come shortly after passing the sign that announced my entrance into the park. I came upon rows of cars gridlocked barely making forward progress. After inching along for 15 minutes I came to the gawkers blocking traffic so that the few sane people could barely skirt around them in the center lane.

I hate gawkers that block traffic to look at a horrific accident. What are they hoping to see a dead body? Follow me around for a week people and I will show you some truly terrifying dead bodies. But no, this time the gawkers blocking traffic were standing beside their cars throwing marshmallows to bears and taking their pictures.

Nice
. I thought.
Good way to get the bears killed people.
But did those people seem to care about their actions? Nope, not in the least. You know that every single one of those people knew their actions were stupid. That they were teaching the bears bad habits. They had seen the news of bears having to shot after they tormented a person to get food. But did any of these people care. Nope, not in the least.

I sighed. Sometimes I wondered if the wizards didn’t have the right idea and I should just let them kill all the humans. I smiled ironically to myself. When did I start thinking of myself as a separate entity from the human race?

The second thing that should have told me that the vision in my head of a nice peaceful visit to a wooded park was the miles of paved parking lots. Once I found my parking place in the forest of cars I headed down the nice leisurely path to the geyser. Yea, right. I was elbow to elbow with people walking down the outside of a walkway that was divided with metal railings into three sections. But all three sections had people walking toward the geyser. I stopped up short when I realized this. How were we going to get out? This went against my second rule of life:
Always plan a getaway.

This did not endear me in the hearts of the family behind me who pushed me off to the side. I got numerous evil glares from everyone as they made their way around me as I stood there blocking of half of the walk way. But I couldn’t force myself to act normal and play along like the normal tourist and be herded forward into the unknown. Every cell in my body instantly knew this was a bad idea. I just didn’t realize how bad.

A Forest Ranger in his green uniform came up to me. “Ma’am are you okay?” He had asked innocently helpful and concerned.

That was when time slowed to a crawl. I turned to look into the eyes of the person asking me if I need help. Even now examining my memories I questioned if my perceived perception of time slowing down had indeed been accurate. Had the wizard in the green uniform whose blue eyes I met cast a spell? I would probably never know for certain.

What I do know is that as soon as my eyes met his blue ones I saw a storm of power swirling threw them and instantly knew him for the wizard he was. What was it that he saw in my eyes I wondered? Whatever it was he shrugged off his false persona of being helpful and concerned.

His eyes flashed a look of fear as it registered with him who I was. I sighed again. The reputation I had gotten among wizards had been earned the hard way through sweat and blood with the scars to prove it. So why was it not enough to keep the power hungry ones from killing innocent humans? If they only killed the bad or corrupt people I could probably look the other way.

The look of fear in his eyes told me that he had heard of me. So why did he go for the pouch that hung around his neck by a leather strap? He had fumbled with the dyed red strip of leather that sealed the pouch, struggling to release and activate the spell that lay dormant within it.

Even now I was unsure what had motivated him to try and attack me.

He must have sensed me draw back my blade because when he looked up from his pouch his hands were fumbling with, he saw my blade poised back ready to strike. It was then that the look in his eyes changed yet again before my blade cut off his head. It was what I saw in his eyes that left me sitting up on this comfortable bed at 2 am and not sleeping. It had been a look of forgiveness in his eyes. He had forgiven me for killing him right before he died.

That look enraged me. Who was he to forgive me? He was the wizard. He was the person who was trying to unleash a spell on me. All I wanted to do was to go see hot water shoot up from a hole in the ground. I flew down the walk way at a sprint and out to my car and drove out of Yellow Stone Park as fast as I could. Thankfully, I did not get stopped by any traffic on the way out. I drove taking the straightest path away from Yellow Stone for 4 hours until reasonable thoughts entered my head again.

Well, okay maybe only somewhat reasonable thoughts. The look of forgiveness in his eyes welled up the hate and anger that I normally kept on a short leash close to the pit of my stomach. The hate and anger wanted to send me on a killing spree. My whole body itched with the desire to run out of the motel. To find every single last wizard on the face of this planet and to cut all their heads off.

Who was he to
forgive
me?

My eyes opened and looked at the brown fabric pouch sitting on the stand next to the T.V. I had a strong desire to open the pouch to find out what was in it. But curiosity not only kills the cat but the wizard hunter too. No, it would stay firmly sealed until I could find a way to dispose of it safety.

Yes, Yellow Stone National Park had been an inanely stupid idea. Of course there would be wizards drawn to hole in the ground that shot hot water up into the air with such force that it went up 140 feet. That type of water power would most certainly attract wizards. Wizards were drawn to the power of water. I still did not know why. There are many types of power in this world but water always seemed to attract them.

I had hunted up and down both coasts of the United States for the past 14 years. I had hunted in every major coastal cities numerous times. But I had never hunted in the plains, mountains or deserts.

Yes, I had been inanely stupid to visit Old Faithful for a little R&R. I had to start making better decisions or I was not going to live to see another 14 years.

I love bushes. I have prayed to them all over the United States. I just could not stop my love affair with them. The one I was currently praying to was a tall overgrown one with obround green leaves. I bent over to pray some more as my stomach clenched and I heaved onto the ground in the center of the bush, well as far into the center as the bushes branches would allow me to reach.

When I was done I wiped my mouth with the back of my hand and wiped the spittle with small chunks on my pants. They were black stretch leggings and would hide the stain well. Disgust with myself reared up again when my stomach churned again. This time my stomach had the good sense not to make me heave in the bush again.

I was tired of praying to bushes but I just couldn’t stop myself. It was not like the sight of the dead girl from Grayling Michigan was any worse than the one from Traverse City I had found 2 days ago or even the hundreds I had seen before over the years. I had even seen far too many girls torn apart in a uncontrollable fit fueled by a lust for power. But each time my stomach reacted violently and I ended up praying to bushes. Maybe The Goddess just loved bushes and wanted me to pray to them all.

I snorted at my ill-timed humor and sighed in disgust at my weakness. I stood up and thought about what I had learned about the wizard I currently hunted.

There was nothing uncontrolled about this wizard that I currently hunted. Both girls had been killed with the same precise expert manner that completed the ritual with extreme attention to detail. Each girl had been killed in an old abandoned barn in the middle of nowhere. Both barns had been cloaked in a concealment spell so that no one would stumble upon the girl’s bodies until the spell ran out of power. The spells had still felt powerful. I had felt my energy drain dangerously low as I had chanted the counter spells to break them. Therefore, I knew the spells would have remained active for a long time to come had they been left alone. The girl from Traverse City had gone missing just before Christmas so the spells had already been active for 6 months. All this told me that this particular wizard was a strong one.

I resigned myself to the vicious fight that I knew lay ahead of me. It was not one that I looked forward to but it was a necessary one and one that I had precious little time to prepare for if I wanted to stop the wizard from killing another girl. It was June 13
th
and the Lessor Litha Sabbat was fast approaching. If the wizard held to his killing pattern he would sacrifice another girl on the Litha Sabbat.

There were 4 Major and Lessor Sabbats throughout the year. They alternated between the Major and Lessor Sabbats. Also, the year for the Sabbats started in December with the Yule on December 21
st
which was a Lessor Sabbat. The rest followed; Imbolc, Major Sabbat on Feb 2
nd
; Ostara, Lessor Sabbat on March 21
st
; Beltane, Major Sabbat on April 30
th
; Lillith, Lessor Sabbat on June, 21
st
; Lughnasadh, Major Sabbat on Aug 1
st
; Mabon, Lessor Sabbat on Sept 21
st
; Samhain, Major Sabbat on Oct 31
st
.

The dates varied some years depending on moon cycles. Also, there had been a push among some Wiccan to change the Lillth Sabbat to the Midsummer Sabbat. They did not like using a demon’s name for one of their Sabbats. Can’t say that I blame them.

I stood up and walked back to the CR-V that was parked behind the barn out of sight of the dirt road. I pushed the button on the key fob and waited for the hatch to open. I pulled out a Chiquita Banana box labeled “Kitchen Supplies”. I took out a glass, bottle of water, toothpick box, and a small zip lock bag labeled “Spaghetti Spice”. I filled the glass half full with water and reached in my bra and pulled out a sock. I unrolled the sock and picked off a hair in the center of it. I dropped the hair into the water, then I emptied the bag of Spaghetti Spice that was in fact a mixture of dried plants into the glass. I held the glass up to the moon and chanted the spell over the glass.

Goddess grant me permission

Permission to harness the power of the North

While I honor the South, East, and West,

I pray to the North to point me in the direction of my target.

I pray to the Goddess to help me in this honorable quest.

Finally, I opened the toothpick box and brought out a small flat magnet with a hand drawn arrow on the top face of it. I carefully floated the magnet in the water and watched it spin a few times before it settled on a direction.

I then cleaned up my supplies and stored them away in the back of the CR-V. I took the glass of water to the front and got in. I put the water glass in the cup holder and said a small hope of a prayer to The Goddess to allow the hair to belong to the wizard I was hunting. The hair I had gotten off the first girl had only led me to her dog.

If this wasn’t his hair then I would have to hunt for the bodies of the girls that were killed on the Ostara and Beltane Sabbats. That would take more time and I would probably not have be successful in stopping the killing he had planned for the Litha Sabbat.