Hunting
The man pursuing me descended to the floor of the grotto, searching the shadows and clefts in the sandstone, taking time to smack the mosquitoes from his arms. He passed within only a few feet of my hiding place, but when his back was turned I slithered away, ducking into a copse of fallen trees.
For kicks, I threw a stone at him. My father wouldn’t have approved—he took hunting seriously. But I was not his daughter, not always.
My pursuer spun around, his face creased in anger. He had no idea where I was. He turned a full 360 degrees, doubtless unsure if some squirrel was fucking with him.
I chucked another stone, into the river. This one, I made sure to skip. Critters can’t skip stones.
He crouched and whirled, trying to find me.
I circled him, wading through poison ivy. I was immune to it, and no sane person who wasn’t would approach my position.
He climbed to an outcropping to try his cell phone, gruntingin frustration when it didn’t connect. There wasn’t any signal here.
I wondered why he was here. I’d gotten close to something, to be certain.
I lay down in the poison ivy, listening. Ascending the hill, the guy walked right past me, so close…He was breathing heavily.
Feeling bored with my little game, I thought I should maybe start acting like a cop. I stood up in the poison ivy and aimed my gun at him. “Freeze.”
He whirled, panicked.
And he ran.
I rolled my eyes. Of course, I wasn’t going to shoot him. I took three steps toward him, but he lurched, then tumbled all the way down the trail to the very bottom, yelping as he went.
I peered down to find him in the gravel below, prone. There wasn’t an easy way to get to him from where I was. I got as close as I could, squatted, and called out: “Hey, man. Are you okay?”
“Ugggghhhh.”His response was pretty robust. Didn’t sound like he was hurt bad. His right leg was oozing blood onto the sand, but it didn’t look serious. Still, there was no way I could carry him out.
“What’s your name?”
He shook his head, not giving anything up. He looked young, too young to look as worn-out as he did. I felt a twinge of guilt about hunting him, about his winding up hurt as a result of my game.
“Why are you here?”
He stared up at me, unflinching.
“Are you here to meet Timmy?”
He was being completely uncommunicative.Stellar.
I sighed. “I’ll get a squad for you. Don’t move.”
I supposed that climbing to the rim to call for help was the right thing to do. I’d get the fire department to fish him out of the bottom of the ravine.
Above, the Hag Stone seemed to look upon me approvingly in the dusk. I’d given her blood, after all.
I climbed up to the trailhead, taking long, smooth strides. My legs burned, but I moved unerringly in the shadows. I watched for Timmy, but saw no sign of him.
When I came upon the trailhead, only my car was parked in the lot.Hell.Timmy was gone. But where had the tweaker I’d met come from? Had he arrived on foot?
I paused before my car, sensing that something was off. My ancient SUV was sitting too low. I walked up to it with a narrowed gaze, scanning the car. No one was inside, and the windows were intact. No one was underneath it, lying in wait, either…
…but my tires were slashed. All four of them.
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