|
The content of this page is © copyright Stephen Deas 2003 and is used here with permission. Dad says the first two bullets missed because that was what they were ordained to do. I might concede the first one, but I swear I actually saw the second one coming, and ducked it. The third one missed because by the time it came through the wall, I was already in the next room. Takes me only a moment to gather my thoughts. I've been hunting this bastard for three weeks now, ever since he put a bullet into Alexiun. I don't know why he did that, but I do know that no one messes with me or my family without suffering the consequences. Alex is fine - dad saw to that, but someone definitely wants him dead. Don't know why, but they do. When they tried a second time, I left dad to look after Alex - not that he needs that much looking after. But it seems the right thing to do, and there's nothing quite like the thrill of hunting down someone who's actually worth the effort. Hunting down escaped slaves back home got dull, after a while. Even Yrkasaar could outsmart them, and I didn't have much stomach for what usually followed. There's no challenge, I told him. There's not supposed to be, Alex told me later. It's not supposed to be some game run for your amusement. It's a matter of maintaining the status quo, of keeping control. It has nothing to do with personal fulfilment. All I can say is that it certainly does when some of my brothers and sisters get hold of an escaped slave. But that's not really for me. Long story short - dad brought Alex and I here, wherever here is - I'm not too clear on that yet. Alex has been here before, I can tell by the way he interacts with things. Everything is so different from the way it is back home, but Alex doesn't bat an eyelid. Take a holiday, have some fun together. You know how to find me if you need me, and that was all dad said, until Alex got shot in the leg. So now I'm on my own, in a world that's all new to me, looking for this shooter, and it suits me just fine. There are so many more ways to hunt here, and so many more tools to hunt with. I sometimes wonder if Alex set all this up just to give me some fun. And now the shooter I've been hunting is hunting me back. Which is a good thing. Means I've got him cornered. Means he's given up running. Means he's mine. I'm up on the rooftops in seconds. Too quiet for my prey. I'd hoped he might think I was dead, or at least winged and waiting for him to finish me off. It was a good try, he deserves the credit for that. But somehow he knows he missed - I'll ask him how in a couple of minutes - and he's off - out into the street below, into a car parked right outside the glass doors of whatever building it is he was shooting from. A hotel, Alex would call it, but we don't have those back home, and I'm sure I still don't quite have a proper handle on what one of those actually is. Anyway, he's heading for his car, and would have made it too, if he was a second or so faster. Pity for him that he's not. I shoot him in the ankle as he's coming through the door. Should slow him down enough - though I'm not sure I'd actually need both feet to drive one of those things. Haven't had too much practice. Alex showed me how to do it and it was a lot of fun for a while, but apparently only for me. So Alex did the older brother thing and I got so sit and watch him be dull and safe and blend in. Dad went on about that a bit when we first arrived. Try and blend in. Alex went on about it a lot more, but Alex goes on about a lot of things, and sometimes he doesn't know quite when to stop. He means well enough, but I mostly I tried to do this blending in thing because dad said so, and despite Alex. But now's not the time. My prey is crawling into his car, and I know that he can make that go faster than I can run. So I jump off the top of my roof down to the street below. It's about six storeys, which is pushing it even for me, and my ankle doesn't much like the landing. Still, it's in far better shape than his, and it'll heal soon enough. People are staring at me - I know it's not normal here for anyone to jump off the top of a six floor rooftop, pick themselves right up and sprint down the street. A second too late, I realise it's not normal for such people to be carrying hunting rifles either, and I guess I can't blame them for putting two and two together. Still, too late for that now. Next time I'll leave the gun on the roof - I don't really need it. My prey slams the door of his car shut just before I reach it, guns his engine and starts to pull off. I have to admire his tenacity. Or his fear, or whatever it is that keeps him going like this. From what I've seen, he's a cut about the rest of the people in this world. But not a cut enough. Before he can get away, I leap onto the back of his car, punch my fist through its rear window, and start to haul myself in. I feel skin tear on jagged metal or glass, or maybe both, and I start to bleed a little. It gives me a sense of exhilaration. No one I have hunted has ever made me bleed before. I know it's not really necessary - my own impatience is mostly at fault. He swerves the car from side to side, in a futile effort to shake me loose, but I'm far to quick and strong. I'm just thinking this is about to be the end for him, when he changes his approach and stops abruptly. For a moment, he actually takes me by surprise, and I have to award him another point for effort. I fly into the front of the car, and almost carry right on through the windscreen and out, which I suppose was his intention. I catch hold of some part of his seat and pull on it with all my strength. It rips apart, but when the car slams to a halt, I am still inside. My prey is slumped in his seat, still and unable to struggle. I can see at once that his neck has been broken. This is not what I planned - he was supposed to live; he was supposed to tell me all about why he shot Alex. But now he's gone, and in this dry and arid world, I have no way to bring him back. I forget, sometimes, this most immense of differences between here and home. None of my powers function here - I have only my speed and strength and guile to work with. I curse him for a moment, then award him another point for managing to thwart me in this most desperate way. Outside, a crowd is beginning to gather. We have not travelled far, and I think they will remember me jumping from the rooftop with a hunting rifle. I am bruised and bleeding slightly, it will be a day or two before my ankle is quite right again, I have made no progress in finding a reason for Alex being shot, and I am now likely to be hunted myself by whatever passes for local law enforcement. A round of applause, please, for the prey. I feel another shiver of excitement coming on. This is more like it! To be continued? The content of this page is © copyright Stephen Deas 2003 and is used here with permission. |