Dead Hunt (2 page)

They were dead, but they were hungry. And the
dead hunt.

CHAPTER 1 – Friends

The Cougars’ cheerleading squad ran excitedly
onto the gymnasium floor for their final routine. The Cougars had
already taken home the gold at the regional and provincial
competitions, but this last competition was the illustrious Cheer
Expo, the big daddy of cheer comps.

Tension and excitement filled the Halifax
arena, and when a few hundred high-spirited teenage girls are
thrown together into a competitive sport, things have a tendency to
get a little nasty. Dirty looks were exchanged between some teams,
while others were more vocal in their disapproval of their
competitors. The sport may have been called cheerleading, but some
of the girls were not exactly cheering each other on. There was
plenty of nervous tension to go around as the undefeated Glace Bay
Cougars took the floor for the final routine.

The Cougars’ music blared from the massive DJ
speakers as the girls performed stunt after stunt practically
flawlessly. Double twisting with lots of high-flying aerial tosses
to please the roaring crowd.

The gym was alive with excitement and
thunderous applause as the Cougars executed a superb routine.

The announcer read the judges’ final decision
and dubbed the Cougars the “Triple Threat.” They had won all three
major competitions.

Lucy and her two best friends, Lauren and
Emma, anxiously packed their duffle bags as they talked about the
grueling event and some of the rude comments the losing teams had
made.

Lucy’s perfectly proportioned figure and
extraordinary beauty often left men yearning in wanton desire and
women thoroughly envious. Her silky brown hair framed her
strikingly beautiful face perfectly, accentuating her deep green
eyes and a breathtaking smile. Her soft, smooth skin tanned with
just a hint of sun.

Lauren was a year older and a couple of
inches taller than Lucy’s five foot frame. Both Lucy and Lauren
were flyers and thoroughly dedicated to the sport of cheerleading.
Although Lauren often considered herself rather plain looking, her
girl-next-door good looks made her anything but average. A smooth
cape of midnight colored hair hung over her shoulders and down her
slender waist. Her chocolate brown eyes sang of sweetness and
seduction, a song that captivated the wants and desires of many
teenage boys.

Emma was quite simply the lovable one. Where
Lucy looked like a runway model and Lauren had the whole
girl-next-door thing happening, Emma was delightfully adorable in
her own perky, innocent and naïve way. She was the same age and
height as Lucy but slightly heavier due to her overly large breasts
that looked entirely out of place on her petite frame. Her natural,
wavy blonde hair and baby blue eyes made her an easy target for
typical cliché comments: Blonde hair, blue eyes, big boobs and
brainless.

Emma was naïve about a lot of things, but
brainless she was not. She managed to keep an A minus average with
very little effort.

Typically, cheer teams had the larger girls
on the bottom with the smaller, lighter girls on top, but Emma was
unusually strong for someone her size, and that landed her a spot
on the team as a base instead of a flyer. That and the fact that
she did not particularly like being tossed up in the air because it
scared her.

The three girls walked to the spot where
Lucy’s boyfriend, Paul Connors, said they had parked the van. Lucy
was pleasantly surprised that Paul, Wade Adams, and Michael
Blackwood had made the six-hour trip to watch the competition.

Paul, the high school football hero, made no
qualms about the fact that he did not think the girls were real
athletes because he did not consider cheerleading to be a real
sport. Whenever Paul made one of his “Cheerleading is not a real
sport” comments, Lucy would tell him that athletes lifted weights,
but cheerleaders lifted athletes. She enjoyed reminding him that
football players could easily hold someone her size over their head
with one hand, but so could Emma. The difference was Emma had the
strength and the balance to hold them up there a lot longer.

“Cheerleading is about strength, balance and
skill,” Lucy often told him. “Football is nothing more than a bunch
of smelly boys knocking the crap out of each other and patting
their teammates on the butt.”

That aspect of sports always amused Lucy;
women were known to hug each other at the drop of a hat, while men
always stayed a macho-safe distance away from each other. But, when
it came to sports, you never saw girls patting each other on the
butt, yet in every male dominated sport the men did exactly
that.

Cheer competitions bored Paul and he rarely
attended them, so Lucy had been pleasantly surprised to see them
there. Of course, the boys had spent more time drooling over the
other cheerleaders, but at least they had made the trip. Lucy, Emma
and Lauren could have crammed themselves back into the small,
smelly school bus with their team mates, but the opportunity to
drive back with the boys was a welcome diversion.

Michael, or ‘Mikey’, as Paul often called
him, secretly had a crush on Lucy. Everyone did for that matter,
but Michael tried to hide his feelings, especially around her
extremely jealous boyfriend. Sometimes Michael just could not take
his eyes off her. When Lucy climbed into the van wearing a tiny
pair of shorts that would make Daisy Duke envious, and a belly
shirt that revealed just enough flesh to make you want to see more,
this was one of those times when he could not help but steal a look
or two.

Michael was a walking cliché of the high
school nerd. He was president of the science club, the computer
club, the chess club, and every other club where brain was
preferable to brawn. His thick, Buddy Holly glasses were forever
sliding down his nose, and he was always carrying a heavy stack of
books that looked like they weighed more than he did.

Michael’s feelings for Lucy were not what you
would call a well kept secret. Even Lucy knew he had a major crush
on her since they were twelve. She did not particularly like
Michael, and she had to make sure she did not do or saying anything
that he might take the wrong way and interpret as flirting,
especially around Paul. Michael had enough problems with Paul as it
was. For the longest time those two hated each other. Not
disapproved or disliked; it had been pure, unbridled hatred. It was
Wade Adams, the foreign exchange student from Australia, who
eventually brought the three of them together.

Paul was one of the popular kids at school,
especially around the hordes of girls who went all gaga over his
muscular six foot seven frame. Paul wanted to be on the wrestling
team, but there was no one big enough or brave enough to compete
against him. The coach suggested he try football and that was where
Paul made his mark. Of course, his mark usually came in the form of
bruises, dislocated shoulders and the occasional broken bone that
he inflicted on the opposing team when he steam-rolled over them.
More than once local newspapers labeled him as “240 pounds of pure
mean”.

Paul also had a mean streak off the field. It
was a cruel side of him Lucy did not like, and there was nothing
she could do about it. The mean side of Paul came in the form of
being a bully. If some unsuspecting kid rubbed him the wrong way
for any reason, Paul made that kid’s life a living hell,
humiliating him in front of the entire school body every chance he
got. He did not pick on people for the sake of being a bully; in
that regard, he was a bit different. "It’s only people who deserve
it," Paul would say, and as far as he was concerned, Michael
deserved it.

The bullying rarely got physical because
nobody had the balls to stand up to Paul, but it was not all that
long ago when that changed.

Paul decided he wanted Michael’s seat in the
school cafeteria and told him to move. No one knows if something
just snapped in Michael’s brain, if he was high on drugs or if he
simply decided life was just not worth living. Michael stood up, as
usual, but instead of picking up his food tray and moving to a
different table, he looked up at the goliath and said the one word
Paul was not accustomed to hearing from five foot seven, one
hundred and thirty pound science geeks.

“No,” Michael said defiantly.

“What did you say to me, you little piss
ant?” Paul blinked in disbelief..

To his credit, or sheer stupidity, no one
really knows for sure, Michael stood his ground.

“You find somewhere else to sit. I was here
first,” Michael said, his voice cracking slightly, but his resolve
unwavering.

Walk into any high school cafeteria and the
several dozen conversations happening at any particular time build
to a numbing roar, but on this particular day, the instant silence
that filled the cafeteria was far more numbing than the
conversations could ever be. Jaws dropped in astonishment;
anticipation hung thick as they waited for the beating that was
soon to follow.

Not a fight. A fight would imply that the
other person had a chance, maybe even a slim chance at best, but a
chance just the same. The wide eyed teenagers stared at the massive
Paul and then at Michael. No, this would not be a fight. It would
be a beating. Paul was going to beat the crap out of Michael, and
everyone knew it.

“Get the fuck out of my way!” Paul
growled.

“No,” Michael repeated, his determination
resolute.

Paul’s hand snapped forward and pushed
Michael. To Paul it was only a push, but to Michael it was more
like having a wrecking ball slam into your chest. The force of
Paul’s push sent Michael flying backwards. He was airborne for five
or six feet before crashing hard onto the cafeteria floor, sliding
another few feet before skidding to a humiliating stop.

As the students roared in laughter Wade got
up to help Michael and quickly noticed that even with the wind
thoroughly knocked out of him, Michael was still trying to get
up.

“This kid must have a death wish,” Wade
thought.

To everyone who was watching, which just
happened to be the entire school cafeteria, it looked as if the
Australian was helping Michael up, but with the slightest of
movements that only Michael could see, Wade shook his head “No”;
his hand was restraining Michael.

“You’re outmatched, Mate,” Wade said, barely
louder than a whisper.

With a defeated look, Michael blinked
knowingly, and Wade effortlessly pulled Michael to his feet. What
happened next was even more unexpected than Michael’s infantile
attempt at defiance.

Wade faced the laughing football player, his
Australian accent grabbing everyone’s attention.

“Oy! I’m impressed. You knocked the little
bloke down,” Wade said as he walked towards Paul, fists clenched.
Paul’s laughing faded to a smile. “Why don’t you try knocking ME
down?” Wade challenged.

Now Wade would not be considered a small guy
at five foot eleven and sporting fourteen inch biceps, but even his
muscular physique seemed dwarfed next to the bulk of Paul’s massive
frame. Paul laughed and snapped a right-hook so fast it caught Wade
flush on the jaw, spinning him in a vicious circle.

Wade was no stranger to fighting and expected
Paul to swing, but even he was caught off-guard at how fast the big
guy was; people that big were rarely that fast. Paul was, however,
and the punch left Wade bent at the waist and spitting blood.

What was more surprising to everyone in the
cafeteria, Paul included, was that Wade did not go down. Sure, he
was bent at the waist and he had to use one hand to steady himself,
but the son-of-a-bitch was still on his feet.

Paul stared in disbelief.

Wade shook the cobwebs from his head,
straightened up and faced Paul.

“You hit like a Sheila,” Wade smirked, wiping
the blood from his lip.

Infuriated, Paul threw another vicious punch,
but this time Wade was prepared for Paul’s speed and sashayed away
from the punch with the grace of a dancer, and crashed his own fist
into the side of Paul’s jaw.

Paul didn’t even blink.

He threw another punch at Wade, a straight
left, and Wade ducked that punch equally as impressive. He threw
another crushing blow to Paul’s temple. He thought he saw Paul
wince but could not be sure because Paul grabbed him in a crushing
bear hug, then slammed him hard on the cafeteria floor like a child
discarding a broken toy.

It doesn’t matter if it is a high school
fight or a bar fight, most people lack the skill of professional
boxers and rarely stay on their feet for more than a few minutes;
this fight was no different. Both boys rolled around the floor in
something that looked more like a wrestling match than a fist fight
as the cafeteria chanted, “Fight! Fight! Fight!”

The chanting brought the school principal,
Mr. MacIntyre, and a few male teachers racing into the cafeteria to
break up the fight.

“That’s it, Connors,” the principal barked at
Paul. “You’ve finally got yourself expelled! And you,” he turned to
face Wade, “you just might find yourself on the next flight back to
Australia. Who started this?”

“I did,” Michael volunteered.

The principal turned and stared at Michael in
disbelief.

“Show’s over!” MacIntyre finally said,
ordering the crowd of students back to their seats.

“Office!” MacIntyre ordered. The three boys
turned silently and headed towards the principal’s office with
MacIntyre following close behind.

The cafeteria broke into a multitude of
excited conversations as soon as the three teens and the principal
exited the room. They were pretty sure the fight between Paul and
Wade would resume after school, and what a fight that was going to
be. They remembered the last time Paul was in a fight. Some big guy
from the rival high school had decided that Paul was not all that
big and had challenged him to a fight. He quickly learned, the hard
way, that Paul was freakishly strong and hit like a tank. That
fight lasted one punch, leaving the challenger unconscious and
missing three teeth. But this Australian guy had not only taken
Paul’s punch, he didn’t even go down, not to mention he was fast,
and he had gotten in more shots than Paul did!