Being Hunted

by C A Gleason

  “No.” He could have sugarcoated it, but how would that help her? Or himself? What purpose would it serve? She needed to know the truth to remain strong. He was always ready for that particular question. “It’s probably worse.”

  “Why?”

  “One reason is because we control our territory.”

  “Around home you mean?”

  “Yes.”

  “It’s worse in other places because there’s more people?”

  “More who can molt, which likely makes those places out of control. They can’t do what I do around here.”

  They walked in silence for a while. Thumps of snow clumps could be heard somewhere in the endless forest surrounding them. If Jonah didn’t have such a terrific sense of direction—his natural navigation skills were something he’d discovered while in basic training—they would’ve gotten lost easily. The white ground and snow-encrusted trees probably looked the same in every direction to most people. But some, like himself, had a natural homing instinct, like a cat.

  They’d lived at the cabin for almost two years, and Jonah went out daily, except on Sundays, so the landscape practically had legible road signs. He even went out when he didn’t need to. He disguised these missions as necessary, but they were often only to stay busy. He needed his missions, and Doreen either wasn’t aware or just didn’t mind because she never voiced any concerns about their quantity.

  “Can I ask you something?” Heike said.

  “Yes.”

  “It’s more of a favor.”

  “OK. What?”

  “Can we speak Deutsche when we’re out like this?”

  Assuming Doreen will allow it, he thought. “But your mom wants you to speak English.”

  “I do, to you.”

  “You don’t speak Deutsche with your mom?”

  “Yes, but I also want to speak it with you.”

  “Well, I can’t keep a secret from her,” Jonah said. “OK if I ask her first?”

  “Yes.”

  “If she says it’s OK, how about you speak Deutsche and I’ll respond in English?”

  “And then we’ll trade languages, and I’ll speak English and you speak Deutsche?”

  “Sure, but I thought you wanted to speak Deutsche?”

  “I do but both.”

  “I’m OK with you doing whatever you want, but we have to get permission first.”

  “OK.”

  “Why do you want to speak Deutsche so much?”

  There was a hint of emotion in Heike’s voice as she said, “I want to remember who I am.”

  Even children could be wise. Every once in a while when Jonah thought he’d figured everything out, that he’d accounted for all the blips on his radar, a little girl reminded him of something that should always be kept in mind. Remember who you were and you’ll know who you are.

  “That way you won’t make the same mistakes and become someone you despise,” Jonah said rhetorically.

  Heike shifted toward him. “What?”

  Jonah was about to carefully explain a few wretched acts from his past in a way Heike could relate to, somehow, when movement caught his eye. “Look there.”

  There was a rustling in a snow-dusted bush ahead at ground level, something unseen as of yet—hopefully something with gray fur and long ears. Whatever it was moved about in the prickly, dead parts of the dense undergrowth deadened by winter. Jonah raised his silenced pistol up at the ready, and Heike did the same as they waited for their intended prey.

  “One shot, one kill,” Jonah said.

  The head of Heike’s coat dipped forward on his left, a nod of understanding by her, he knew, even without seeing her face. They were as still as the trees around them, waiting for what they hoped was a rabbit for Heike to shoot. It wasn’t as if there were an alternative method for the hunt because they couldn’t give chase. Once a rabbit knew it was seen, it was very good at disappearing or turning to stone.

  The rather large critter finally emerged, gray as they expected and like the many others Jonah had brought home, and it must not have realized the danger it was in because suddenly all of it was exposed. It hadn’t seen them yet or didn’t care or wasn’t alarmed by aiming weapons or their conversation. It was likely it had never seen humans before.

  Squeeze the trigger, Jonah thought. Don’t jerk it. And moments later he heard a crack from Heike’s silenced weapon, and then the sizable rabbit was on its side. “Nice shot.”

  Heike had already taken her finger off the trigger and lowered the weapon to her side. “Thanks.”

  “See the casing?”

  She dipped forward as if she were bowing to see over her warm coat. “Yes.”

  “It might still be hot, so roll it around, submerge it in the snow, before you pick it up and put it in your pocket.”

  Heike nodded and bent down, holding the pistol out but still aimed at the ground—he was so proud of her—and dug around in the snow before she picked out the spent casing with her gloved hand.

  “You know why we do that?”

  “Same reason as during target practice.”

  “Tell me.”

  “We don’t litter.”

  “And?”

  “No one will know we were here . . . What about our footprints?”

  “The next snowfall will take care of those. And once its spring, there won’t be any because they will melt.”

  “Aren’t there people who can track other people?”

  “Yes, but those people would show up at the cabin, probably not cross paths with us accidentally while we’re out hunting.” She got a worried look on her face. “Don’t worry. I won’t let that happen. If there was anyone out here with us, I would know.”

  She twisted toward him. “May I retrieve my bunny?”

  A chill moved through him suddenly, and he knew why just as instantaneously. It was something very old and ancient, a primal instinct. They had just killed a prey animal, which meant it was possible another predator might challenge them for it. Jonah was always as cautious as possible. It was possible for even him to become complacent, even though he advised others not to let it happen. He got a vision of Heike stepping toward the rabbit only to encounter one of them instead. Jonah scanned the trees above.

  “Jonah?” Heike said. “My bunny?”

  He finished the inspective sweep all around them. Clear. “Yours? I thought we were in this together?”

  She giggled and took a step. “I can get him?”

  “Go ahead.”

  Heike took careful steps toward her kill, but when she was standing above it, she stood in place, unmoving, as if she weren’t sure what to do next.

  “Grab it by the feet,” Jonah said.

  Heike sniffed instead. It was to be expected, even though he’d hoped she wouldn’t be so sensitive, but Heike couldn’t change who she was. He trudged through the powdery snow and helped her stare down at the dead rabbit. She sniffed again, and he saw her wipe at her cheeks with her gloved hand. Her shot had punctured right through the rabbit’s side, and there were splats of red over the white snow behind the corpse.

  “It’s so cute.”

  “It is.”

  “I don’t like killing,” she said and sniffed again.

  “I don’t either. I know it’s difficult. But sometimes we have to. And we always need to have something to eat.”

  “We already have food. In cans and army food and you’ve said you know where more is.”

  “Yes, but we might need all that in an emergency. I don’t know how long we’ll be able to hunt rabbits.”

  “I shouldn’t have called him a bunny.” Sniff. “He looks like a stuffy.”

  “Can I tell you something?”

  “Yeah.”

  “There are some animals on this planet that are supposed to be eaten. It’s their purpose. They’re called prey animals.”

  “Like rabbits?”

  “Yes.”

  “What else?”

  “Deer. They only live a
few years.”

  “Same with rabbits?”

  “Yep.”

  “No matter what?”

  “No, if they’re kept as pets, they’ll live longer. But that isn’t natural.”

  Heike swallowed loudly and sniffed again. Jonah had allowed her to be emotional, but now he needed her to regain her composure. He unbuttoned a side pocket and pulled out a tissue from a whole packet of them and handed it to her.

  “Thank you.”

  “You’re welcome.”

  Showing emotion was not a weakness, but the reality was living with females required tissues. Jonah had needed a hankie on occasion too. While out searching he did his best to never leave tissue or toilet paper behind.

  Heike dabbed at her nose. “Thank you, rabbit.”

  He rubbed her back. “Thanks, rabbit.”

  She looked up at him and exhaled. “What about us?”

  “Us?”

  “People. Are we prey animals?”

  “No,” he said sharply. “We’re predators.”

  “How do you know? What’s the difference between us and them?” She blushed. “I know you know things, Jonah, but I don’t always, and I want to understand.”

  He nodded. “Our eyes face forward. The eyes of prey animals are on the side of their heads.”

  “Why?”

  “Why what?”

  “Why is there a difference between forward eyes and side eyes?”

  “Predators, hunters like humans, need forward-facing eyes for depth perception to hunt. Prey animals need side eyes for a larger field of vision so they can spot the hunters.”

  “And get away and not get eaten?”

  “It helps.”

  “But a Molter’s eyes face forward. And they feed on us.”

  “If they can catch us.” Jonah tried to think of something else to say to make Heike feel better, but she knew too much, was way too smart, so he told her the truth. “Not with me around.”

  Heike forced a smile in a way that looked just like her mom. Then it vanished, and she bent down and grabbed the rabbit by the feet, hefting it upward.

  Jonah took the radio out of his pocket. “Base, this is Two.”

  Moments later: “Go ahead, Two.”

  CHAPTER 13

  Heike’s feelings about her first kill were understandable. Jonah had felt the same way, except for him it had been while fishing. He remembered feeling very sad for the trout as it gasped for air before his dad placed it on the fish stringer with the others and dropped them all over the side of the boat. Jonah had watched it swim in place, gills opening and closing while submerged in the lake, hoping it would break free and swim away. It had been so long ago, and he was so different as a grown man—he wasn’t so softhearted—it was almost as if he were remembering a story about someone else.

  Heike kept raising the dead rabbit up and looking at it as they made their way back. “It’s heavy.”

  Jonah had taken Heike’s pistol, ejected the magazine, removed the silencer, and put it all in a cargo pocket to free up both her hands. “Want me to carry it?”

  “No thanks.”

  Jonah could tell she wanted to show it off. “When we get back, I’ll bring your mom out so she can see.”

  “OK.”

  “Let me see you practice holding it up.”

  Heike looked at the rabbit as she raised it as high as she could, then tripped on something under the snow and almost fell.

  “Careful.”

  “I am,” she said. “Like this.”

  Then she raised it again and put on a smile so big it made Jonah laugh. “That’s perfect.”

  The radio chirped, and Jonah quick drew it. Doreen was contacting them again for some reason. He didn’t hear her voice, so he thumbed the call button. “Base?”

  He waited. She was thumbing the call button, too, but wasn’t saying anything. Something was wrong.

  With concern, Heike said, “Jonah?”

  “No more talking. We gotta get home fast,” he said.

  Heike nodded.

  When the cabin was in sight, Jonah also saw Doreen was on the porch. Waiting for them and waving. No, it wasn’t a wave. She was trying to get their attention because she pointed two fingers at her eyes and then at the cabin. There was trouble inside the cabin? He wondered.

  “Stay behind me,” Jonah said to Heike.

  Heike was no longer beaming with pride; she was alarmed because of his tone, and she lowered the rabbit she was already holding up to show off to her mom. Doreen motioned for them to come forward. She pointed two fingers at her eyes again, then one behind her. There wasn’t trouble inside the cabin but behind it.

  “Go to your mom,” Jonah said.

  Heike ran, rabbit held up with both hands, and it jostled back and forth. Doreen opened the door and said, “Go inside.” Heike did as she was told.

  “What is it?” Jonah said.

  “Them,” she said. “It’s not your fault.”

  Jonah was stunned. “Where exactly?”

  “Coming up the hill.”

  It was still quite a few hours away from getting dark, and that was when they usually showed if they were going to, and his clearing had always been very dependable. Enough for him to feel in control. They rarely got close, and he hated being caught off guard. That simply meant he’d been a civilian for too long, he realized, and his bafflement was only short lived. No sense in being surprised by what could happen every day.

  He pulled his pistol out of its holster beneath his jacket and reattached the silencer to the end of the barrel, twisting and clicking it in place. “How many?”

  “At least three. If they were closer, I would have taken care of them.”

  “I’m a better shot.”

  “That’s why I didn’t. What do you want me to do?”

  “Go back inside. Here, Heike’s.” He handed her Heike’s pistol, silencer, and magazine from his cargo pocket. “I’ll take care of them.”

  “Be careful.”

  “I will. Love you.”

  They kissed quickly.

  “Love you too,” she said.

  Doreen went inside before shutting the door firmly behind her and locking it, and Jonah crept around the cabin, sticking close to the wall. He peeked around the corner, 9mm raised and ready to fire, and advanced, closing in on the place where Doreen had said she’d spotted them.

  Slowly, he rounded the back of the cabin and leaned out, trying to spot any movement at all. He saw nothing but tried to identify hints of them down the hill: the sound of their steps in the snow, the snap of twigs or underbrush, or howling or growling. He waited.

  The problem with hunting hunters was they often knew when to be still. Jonah spied down the iron sights and panned left to right, then up in the trees before lowering his sight picture across a never-ending blanket of white. There was nothing that gave away the creatures that were surely nearby. Just winter and its wind blowing around what frosty snow it could. He was just about to squat down and wait even longer, thinking that maybe they hadn’t seen the cabin or ignored it and then bypassed it when he saw them.

  They were moving up the hill together in a pack; they were hunched and wore ragged clothing that their arms stuck out of, revealing pale skin that practically blended in with the snow around them. Sunken, bulbous eyes and sharp teeth that looked too big for their mouths stuck out on their faces. They looked like the original ones he’d encountered, different than the one with all the teeth along its mouth and green skin that he’d killed in the cave. There seemed to be different strains.

  Great.

  Other than their teeth and claws and their primitive, dangerous instincts, Molters didn’t have weapons, which was why Jonah stepped into their view intending to spur them to come at him. Even if there were more than the three in his sector of fire, he was confident he could kill them all. He had a full magazine, Heike had been the only one of them who had fired a weapon, and if he ran out of bullets, he’d pull his machete.

&n
bsp; When they saw him, they squatted low as if they were going to drop to all fours and spread out. One quickly climbed up the nearest tree, surely intent on sprawling on him when he passed beneath. When its head turned toward him, nearly to the first branch, Jonah shot it somewhere in its side, and it fell to the snow in pain, clutching at its wound and snarling.

  Luckily it was still in view, squirming, so he immediately shot it again—in the head—and killed it. The silenced cracks from the pistol hardly made a sound.

  The other two separated and charged him from different directions, intent on flanking him. He shot the one on his left in the legs and then its chest, slowing its momentum until it fell, and the other was already almost on him, snarling, then howling, an attempt to alert others. It was so close that Jonah didn’t have to squeeze the trigger for accuracy. He jerked it and shot the Molter in the throat, causing it to make a choking sound. Its head whipped back and forth, and then it fell on its side, bleeding all over the deep white powder.

  Jogging to where the other Molter had fallen—the one he’d shot in the legs—he saw that it was still alive. It was trying to stand but couldn’t, and it was bleeding out from the gunshots. It made a motion as if it wanted to get to one of Jonah’s legs, snarling and baring its teeth-filled mouth angrily, unable to resist its drive to feed even though it was dying.

  A shot to the head turned it as dead as the others. Jonah poked its chest with the end of the silencer. When it didn’t move and he was sure, he scanned the area for any indication that there were more of them.

  After another forty-five minutes, he hustled back up the hill.

  The freeze would keep the corpses intact before he had to get rid of them. Molters were the only predator that had been spotted since their arrival at the cabin, and they’d likely fed on anything else with teeth, so it wasn’t as if another predator would eat them. Jonah didn’t know them to be cannibals.

  He did his best to seem normal after what he’d done, asking Doreen what she thought of Heike’s first kill. She said she was very proud of her, and he was sure that was true, but her enthusiasm was forced. No way around it. She was rattled by what had just happened, and he was sure Heike was, too, even if she hadn’t seen the Molters before ducking inside.