THE HUNT, Judy Colella [reading in the dark txt] 📗

THE HUNT

THE HUNT

 

 

Five minutes. That was all he had left. Five stinking minutes. After that, his chances of survival were about less than nil.

He peered around the end of the wall, thought he saw movement, and ducked backward.

“I’m fast. I know I can do this. Damn. Why did I allow myself to get caught in the first place?” His muttering sounded soft enough in his own ears, but he realized it might not be as low as he thought, and who knew if whatever was out there had heard him.

Cursing – silently – he risked another quick peek. Nothing. Or nothing that was moving. He stared at the tree four or five yards away. That was his next goal, but the space between the end of the wall and the thick oak’s trunk was exposed – how he ran would be irrelevant. A low crouch, a mad upright dash, it didn’t matter.

Taking a deep breath, he told himself that he needed to get it over with. Damn it, Mason, go. You either make it or you die. Either way, if you stand here you die for sure.

Overhead, the darkening sky whistled with the passage of mechanical spy-birds, the tech that was used to make sure no one cheated, and that kept track of everyone’s time. Horrible things, those spy-birds. They looked more like hypodermic needles with wings in his opinion. Certainly not like real birds.

Shut up and go!

Fists clenched as tightly as his jaw, Mason Holt narrowed his gaze, leg muscles tensed, abdomen sucked in, head lowered, and…NOW!

Behind him, and somewhere near the wall’s shadow Mason had vacated, someone – something – laughed.

 

~~~~~~~~

 

“I’m tired of running, Mira. I can’t do this anymore.” Gulping back a sob, Anna dropped to the muddy ground, hugging her knees, leaning back against the boulder behind her.

“So you’re going to…what? Sit there until they come for you? Waste your last few moments feeling sorry for yourself?”

“Why not? No one cares.”

“What about me?”

Anna uttered a short, angry laugh. “Right. You aren’t even real. You’re in my stupid head, Mira. I’m talking to myself! God, I’m such a jerk!”

The cold wetness under her backside was chilling her in a way that reminded Anna of the times she’d felt alone as a child. Not that it mattered now, in her opinion. No way was she going to make it to the next target spot before her time ran out. Which meant that everything – her entire life – had been irrelevant.

“Get up, you idiot. I’m tired of you giving up so easily all the time!”

“Shut up, Mira. It doesn’t mean squat now.”

“Really? Because if you die, I do, too, and I’m not ready.”

“You’re me. How could you not be – ”

“Because you aren’t either, you moron! Get the hell up and run!”

Anna glanced skyward, made a face at one of the spy-birds zooming past, and got up. “My ass is wet and muddy. Great.” A second later, she was laughing – at herself, her situation, her mud-encrusted rear-end. “What the hell,” she said through a tear-stained giggle, and launched herself away from the boulder, across the wide plain, and toward the trees.

From somewhere behind the boulder someone – something – sighed.

 

~~~~~~~

 

The screens showed little in the dusk of an already murky day. Occasional motion, hard to distinguish as anyone or anything specific. Could have been one of the hunted, could have been an animal. That was the only real flaw in the system; when the sun began to sink, visibility became predictably reduced, and because of the nature of the hunt, no lights could be set up to change that. Ramsey frowned, not sure what to do next.

The door to the observation room opened and he heard footsteps as someone came to stand beside him. Vesta. Her soft tread and musky perfume were familiar and unique.

“Did they make it?”

“I don’t know.”

She nodded. “Better call in the watchers, then.”

“I suppose.” Ramsey pressed a button on the console. “Time to return and report.”

On the screen to his left he saw a brief flicker – the signal that he’d been heard by the first watcher. A moment later, this was repeated on the right-side screen.

“Thirsty?” Vesta tapped him on the arm.

“What? Oh.” He took the thermos she was holding out. “Thanks.”

“If they survived, how do you think these two will react?”

“I have no idea.” Ramsey went to the small couch and sighed himself into a comfortable spot on one end. “I hope they did make it, though. If ever there were two people who were perfect for each other, they were those two.”

Vesta grinned and joined him on the couch. “You’re such a romantic.” She put out a hand.

Pressing the thermos into it, Ramsey chuckled. “I guess. But hey, if the wrong two people start pairing up, things will just return to where they were before the war. The only way to save humanity is to find couples who are compatible, who will have children they can raise peacefully, who will then be paired with others who are compatible with them.”

“I know. Why the lecture?”

“Because I’m freaking tired, Vesta.” Leaning his head back, Ramsey closed his eyes.

“I know, sweetie. And you’re right. We’re a perfect testimony to that, aren’t we?”

He nodded and looked at her. “We are. Better than the last one they sent me out with in the hunt in any event.”

“You had to kill her, didn’t you.”

“I did. Shame, really. But at least it was simple – I just had to make sure she missed her target goal.”

Vesta, looking grim, stood. “Yeah. That’s the worst part of all this. I had to do that to four men before I was paired with you. Makes me question the wisdom of the Pairing Council sometimes.”

“Well, at least they finally got it right.” Ramsey stood and took Vespa in his arms, holding her in a tender embrace, inhaling her scent. “Love you, V.”

The door opened again, and two individuals entered, both somewhat muddy, both smiling. “My daughter made it – I didn’t think she would,” said the man, flinging himself into the chair in front of the console.

“So did my son,” the woman added, smiling wide, eyes laughing. “I knew he would.”

“Thank goodness for that. Another couple paired well.”

The four people shook hands and agreed to meet later to celebrate.

 

~~~~~~~

 

“This is my tree.”

“No, it’s mine.”

“Oh. Guess it’s our tree, then.”

Mason peered into the mud-spattered face of the girl staring up at him and decided she was probably pretty – it was hard to tell in the dimming light. “What’s your name?”

“Anna.” Mira.

“Mason.”

“Nice to meet you. Now what? Do we work together to get to the next goal?”

He nodded. Maybe this wouldn’t end so badly after all…

 

 

END

Imprint

Publication Date: 10-08-2015

All Rights Reserved

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