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Authors: Adrianne Lemke

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Hunter (4 page)

BOOK: Hunter
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It
was hot, and I was definitely sweating. I couldn’t hide the wince when he
noticed. “Uh… I like wearing jackets. It fools my body into thinking it’s not
really as hot as it actually is.” I smiled weakly, hoping he didn’t question me
further. My excuse was weak, but so far no one here knew anything about me.

           
I
wanted to keep it that way.

EIGHT

Sam

 
 

           
We
were playing baseball at the park when I felt Jason’s mood shift from simple
interest to pure worry. I frowned and ducked when a ball flew at me while I was
distracted. “Sa-am,” Jake whined.

           
“Sorry!
Wasn’t paying attention!” I called running for the ball. There were five people
playing, so the rules were a bit different. One person pitched, two batted, and
two played in the outfield. It wasn’t a real baseball game, but it was fun.
Jason wasn’t close to losing control. I didn’t need to have his emotions always
interfering with my life.

           
The
runner had gotten over-confident, so I was able to get the ball to the pitcher
before he reached home. The way our rules work is, if the pitcher gets the ball
before the runner reaches home, the runner can no longer get home. Instead, he
has to stop at the base closest to him. If the pitcher reaches the base first,
then the runner is out. Because the runner was pushing further than he should
have, the pitcher was able to reach the base first.

           
“Pay
attention Sam!” Jake yelled. Easier said than done when Jason’s anxiety kept
bleeding through.

           
“Sorry,”
I called again. “At least he didn’t score!”

           
The
game ended about half an hour later when we stopped enjoying it, and started
arguing stupid plays. Jake’s dad showed up at the park shortly before we
finished and he stood outside the fence waiting. “You coming back to the house
Sam, or do your parents need you home?” he called.

           
He
didn’t know. Most people didn’t. Jason never wanted us to seem out of place, so
we never mentioned that our parents were dead. Sadly, in a lot of ways we’re
thankful
that they are gone. It still
made me cringe any time someone asked. “No. I’m not needed at home right now.”

           
Jason
didn’t need me home until he was home. He’d already given me the okay to be at
Jake’s for most of the day, and his house was within walking distance of our
house.

           
“You
all right, Sam?” Mr. Thompson asked. He was looking at me with concern, so he’d
apparently noticed my reaction.

           
Not
wanting to go against Jason’s wishes, I nodded. “Fine. Thanks.”

           
He
looked doubtful, like he wanted to argue, but Jake was getting impatient.
“Let’s go! I’ve got a new game to show Sam!”

           
“All
right. Get in kids,” he said, giving up on questioning me further.

           
I
breathed a sigh of relief once he turned away. Not telling was one thing, lying
outright was another. I could avoid topics pretty well, but I’ve never been
good at telling a straight up lie.

           
Jake
chatted about his video game until we got to his room and put it into the
player. In my opinion, video games are a massive waste of time, but it is more
fun to play them with someone else. We played for a few hours, Jason’s emotions
staying well into the background hum of my mind. “I should get going,” I said,
looking at the clock. “I feel like walking, and my br- uh, family doesn’t want
me out after dark.”

           
“All
right. See you on Monday.”

           
After
thanking Mr. Kendal for picking me up that morning, I started the long walk
home. The evening air was cool and felt nice after spending most of the
afternoon in front of a TV screen. The slight headache I’d gotten while playing
the game dissipated as I walked toward the wooded area near my house.

           
One
of the trails through the woods had served as a shortcut home in the past, so I
turned onto the path, prepared to enjoy a scenic walk instead of seeing the
little stores along the road. This path took me over a small creek, where I
stopped and watched as some fish swam around and a hawk soared nearby. I was
sitting there when I felt like someone was watching me. Glancing around
self-consciously, I caught a glimpse of someone’s arm behind a tree several
yards away.

           
I
stared into the creek, wondering if I was just being paranoid, when my
brother’s words came back to me:
Paranoia is your body’s way of telling you
something isn’t right. If you’re feeling paranoid, listen to the feeling and get
away. It could end up saving your life.
That had been shortly before we
moved out here when I’d asked him why we had to move. He’d obviously been
feeling a bit suspicious of everything at the time, and had been trying to make
me understand.

           
Tossing
a rock into the creek, I made the decision to pretend I hadn’t seen the man
behind the tree and walk normally until I got out of sight. There was a bend in
the path up ahead that was mostly blocked by bushes and vines, so I’d be able
to gain a lead there. If he wasn’t following me, then all I needed to worry
about was feeling a little silly about my reaction.

           
My
heart was pounding when I started walking again, and I was moving stiffly, not
giving the carefree impression I was trying for as I headed in the opposite
direction of the man by the tree. Once I reached the bend, I risked a glance
behind me and I saw a man kneeling by the edge of the creek where I’d been
standing. The woods were shaded enough that I couldn’t see him clearly, just
the shadow of him, but it seemed like he was looking right at me.

           
I
turned again and started sprinting, my breaths coming quickly as I ran to the
edge of the woods. Even when the dirt path turned to cement sidewalk I kept
running. I still couldn’t be sure the man had been following me, but I couldn’t
shake the feeling that he was. I reached the next wooded area and rushed up the
nearly hidden driveway to my house, almost dropping my key in my hurry to get
indoors. Jason wasn’t home yet, so I locked the door behind me and called him.

           
“Jason,
can you come home?” I asked, tears running down my face, either from fear or
exertion as I struggled to get my breathing back under control.

           
He
didn’t ask questions. “I’m already on my way. I’ll be there in a few minutes.”

           
“Thanks,”
I said, hanging up and running a shaky hand over my eyes, wiping the tears off.

           
I
might have been over reacting, but I was sure I’d felt some kind of malice from
the man. But that was impossible. I’ve never felt anything from anyone but my
brother, which meant Jason was the only one whose emotions I could feel.

           
Wasn’t
he?
      

NINE

Hunter

 
 

           
Nothing beats the thrill of hunting
prey that knows it’s being hunted, and has a way to fight back. I always had an
advantage, but they never knew unless they were talented enough at evasion and
fighting for me to use it. Guns were forbidden in this particular game. Mostly
my victims got a hunting knife, and I took the same for myself. It wouldn’t do
to have too many people investigating gunshots during a non-hunting season. During
hunting season, I would sometimes choose to use a gun.

           
My
prey got a half-hour head start. I would leave the door open and tell him to
get out. The look of confusion they all had at this point was hilarious, and it
always took a little while after I walked away and closed myself into another
room before they crept out. One young man almost left without taking the knife,
but must have decided it would be better to have it, because I heard him step
cautiously back into the cabin, followed by the sound of metal sliding across
the wooden table where I’d left it.

           
Only
one of my victims ever left the knife. In that case, I chased him sooner, and
tossed the knife at his feet. None of my targets could escape, and all had to
fight. All my prey lost, but some had come close to beating me. That’s when I
would… well, cheat I guess. I had various methods. Sometimes I would make the
ground drop out from under them; other times I’d have it grab at their feet as
they ran. I also made a version of quicksand once near a body of water… which
was interesting. The man started sinking, and I trapped him partway down by
hardening the formerly soft soil. I didn’t have enough water here to make that
trick work again.

           
Everyone
gave up when given evidence of my special power, so I made sure to use it only
if it seemed like I was going to lose. The exception was fortifying the borders
of my property, so none of them could get very far from the cabin. My hunting
trips were meant to reenergize my mind, and that was only accomplished if the
pursuit was challenging.

           
This
one was. The boy ran the borders of the property and then started sneaking
around, leaving less of a trail for me to follow visibly or by feeling of the
tread of his steps. This boy was good at hiding. I followed several false
trails before finally spotting him by a tree. He took off at a sprint when he
saw that I noticed him, but I didn’t give chase. I walked at a leisurely pace.
Now that he was running again, his trail was clear as day.

           
Besides,
there was something else calling out for my attention: someone moving about a
mile or two away that felt familiar. I’d felt faded footsteps near my cabin the
night before, and the pattern was the same: he walked for a while, then stopped
and put pressure in one spot on the ground in front of him, then got up and
walked more. It probably had nothing to do with me, but his actions were
curious.

           
Now
I was annoyed. The hunt would have to be postponed in order for me to have a
chance to get a look at the other man, and the boy had gone to ground again.
Making my decision, I memorized the mystery man’s tread pattern and went back
to the hunt. It was a small town, after all. Chances were that I would come
across him again at some point.

           
The
chase continued until I finally cornered the boy near the creek on the very
edge of my property. “Don’t,” he pleaded, holding the knife in front of him
while backing away. His hand shook and his voice was quivering.

           
Wary
of the knife he held, I approached him. I’d been cut a few times by those
unskilled in knife fighting, and did not like the feel of the blade slicing
into my own skin. The boy kept backing away until his foot almost slipped over
the edge of the embankment. “Please, let me go,” his voice was hoarse from
either yelling for help or lack of use or a combination of both, but he looked
me in the eye as he spoke. “I won’t tell.”

           
“No,”
I agreed. “You won’t.”

           
His
eyes widened when I suddenly lunged at him, my knife going for his throat to
cut off any screaming before it happened. I felt the nick of his blade across
my forearm as he tried to fight back, but he soon dropped the knife and fell to
his knees holding his neck weakly trying to put pressure on the gushing wound.
He gasped a few times and fell, reaching with one hand for the knife.

           
“Thank
you for the hunt,” I said as I plunged the knife into his chest, effectively
stopping any attempt he’d been making to get the blade. “It was very
entertaining.”

           
Less
so than it could have been, though. I hadn’t meant to make the neck wound so
deep. It was more fun when they still had a little life in them to fight back,
but he’d made a valiant effort. I wiped the blades on my shirt and headed back
to the cabin for the tarp and cart I had waiting for moving the body. Before
going back for the corpse, I put the knives into the sink to soak in bleach
water, and washed my face, which was covered in blood from the spray of his
neck wound.

           
The
fresh spray didn’t bother me so much as the sticky feeling as it cooled and
congealed, so it was best to get it off before it got too annoying. Those tasks
complete, I dragged the little cart through the woods to the creek and worked
up a sweat getting the body wrapped up in the tarp and up into the cart. The
bloody area I disguised by using my powers to shift the ground enough to hide
the largest puddle. The rest would degrade on its own eventually. Since I
control this area, it would be unlikely for anyone to come across it
accidentally. Even if they did, it was likely they’d think the blood was from an
animal.

           
I
stored the cart with the body in my shed to wait until there were no other
people out on the trails, and then I would dump him off somewhere. He’d be
found eventually. For now I needed to finish cleaning myself off, bury the
clothing, and then go to town. I had some shopping to do, and I hoped to run
into the mystery man so I would be able to find out if he was a threat or
possible prey.

           
It
was late afternoon when I walked down the trail to town. I was about halfway
there when I felt someone moving near the creek and decided to check it out. It
was quick to find another victim, but maybe I could at least get an idea before
the next time I came out.

           
The
steps belonged to a young boy—probably early teens—who was standing by the edge
of the creek watching a hawk swooping around. As I watched, he stiffened and
glanced in my direction, but then he relaxed and kept watching for a few
minutes before heading back down the trail.

           
When
he disappeared around a bend, I stepped out from behind a tree and stared in
the direction he’d headed, getting a feel for the steps he left, and
considering. He was younger than any I went for in the past. Would he present
enough of a challenge? I shook my head. For now, I needed to finish up with my
former victim.

           
Then
I would hunt down the mystery man.

           

 

           

BOOK: Hunter
6.54Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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