A Hunter By Any Name

by Sheila Wireman

  Yep, it worked every time on muscle bound men. Geeks were a horse of a different color though. They were used to competition and were not afraid to share attention and if it was with another girl then they were all too eager at even the possibility of being able to share the attention. Yea, geeks were my fave.

  Unable to contain my curiosity I called after him and asked, “Is the Prison City Gym a real gym?”

  The man turned around and glanced up and down my frame. I knew his scrutiny of my body would be unable to detect the muscles that I had purposefully hidden beneath the loose jeans and a hooded sweatshirt that I wore. I had also stuffed the front pocket of the sweatshirt with numerous things so that it bulged and made me look like I had a little extra padding in the middle.

  When the man spoke his words were on the surface respectful but the content and tone betrayed the judgement he had made of me; a women pushing thirty that had never lifted a weight in her life and could have stood to lose a few pounds. “Sure it is, it is over on Jackson St. Come by sometime we have supplements that can help you lose weight and put on some muscle.” Then he turned and walked away.

  I watched the hard ass walk away. It really was a fine ass.

  A shrill cry from a robin reminded me I was on the hunt. My first instinct was to whip my head around in the direction of my prey but years of discipline kept the instinct at bay. There was nothing better than sudden movements for attracting the attention of someone on the hunt and I was not the only hunter in the park today.

  I slowly but purposefully looked around the park searching for my prey. The wizard had walked over to the edge of the wood chips that created a square around a purple and green play structure. His body was tense with excitement as he watching a teen girl. The girl was knelt down at the bottom of a three foot high slide. At the top was a little boy just barely old enough to walk. The girl was calling out encouragingly to the little boy to slide down the slight incline of the slide.

  The girl must have felt the stranger’s gaze because she looked up from the boy and turned in the direction of the wizard. This wizard was beautiful, as all wizards were. He showed his straight white teeth in a dazzling smile for the girl. Her cheeks flushed with color at the embarrassment of attraction she felt for him before returning her attention back to the toddler. She was just in time to catch the little boy as he careened his uncoordinated little body down the slide.

  I couldn’t understand the girl’s blush to the wizard’s attention but then again I was jaded with years of firsthand experience that showed me the true monster underneath the beautiful exterior. I guess if I truly looked at him objectively I could see the girl’s point of view. This wizard had dark brown curly hair with dark brown eyes to match. His skin was a warm tan color. He had high fine cheek bones and the teeth were impeccably straight and dazzled brightly in the warm afternoon sun. He had purposefully dressed down from the expensive western clothing that I had seen him wear in the past. Today he had on a pair of designer jeans that were faded in all the right places. The t-shirt looked like a silky cotton and must have been incredibly soft, as did the leather coat slung over his shoulder.

  The wizard must have been done with his stalking for today because he turned and strode out of the park with a confident graceful stride. Yes, I could see why someone who did not know the monster that lurked underneath the beautiful exterior could be attacked to the outside package.

  The little boys cry turned my attention back to the teen girl and the toddler. The teen girl crooned softly and lovingly at the toddler who clearly did not want to be set down in his stroller. The boy was kicking his legs like he was running hurdles in the Olympics as the girl held him out trying to place him in the seat of the stroller. The girl gave up and propped the little boy up on her hip.

  “I know you don’t want to home do you?” Then a playful grin broke out on the girl’s face a she asked the little boy in a playful sing song voice, “I wonder where Snuffle Uffly is?” At the sound of Snuffle Uffly’s name the little boy stopped crying and looked up with sad hopeful eyes at the girls face. She grinned even bigger in play at the little boy before singing out “Come out come out where ever you are Mr. Snuffle Uffly.” She reached into the stroller and brought out a tattered small elephant and danced it forward into the little boy’s hands as his face lit up on joy at the sight of his beloved Snuffle Uffly. Only then did the little boy allow himself to be placed in the stroller seat.

  The girl then glanced nervously around for the man as she buckled the toddler into his stroller. She quickly dug a phone out of her pocket and texted someone.

  I let a small glimmer of hope fill me. Good, I thought to myself, maybe this girl is smart and wary enough to stay alive until I am able to kill this wizard. I would not have thought a girl from Michigan would be smart enough to be wary of a wizard but I let a small flicker of hope take hold that maybe I had been wrong.

  The girl had started pushing the stroller out of the park. I got up to follow her as I tried to remember what city I was in again. It had something to do with slaves. Oh that’s right Jackson, Mi. Andrew Jackson, seventh president of the United States and slave owner. A snort at the rightness of slave owner being president of the United States escaped from me before I clamped down on my emotions. I quickly glanced around to see if anyone had heard me. Thankfully, no one was close enough. I knew all too well that the Land of the Free was anything but free. Most American’s lived adequate lives filled with the monotony of work, comforted by their mistaken belief that greatest challenge to their freedom was the corrupt politicians. They continued with their daily struggle for existence all the while blissfully unaware of the wizards that actually really controlled America.

  I sighed and forced myself to concentrate on the teen girl pushing the stroller out of the park. Time to get to work and find out everything I could about this girl in the hopes of saving her life.

  Chapter 11

  I hated parallel parking, I thought as a circled the block looking for an empty parking spot. I was not very good at it. Maybe it was because I had never actually been taught how to drive. I let myself actually chuckle out loud to myself at that thought. I just couldn’t help myself as the thought of someone teaching me something was so absurd.

  Learning how to drive that old black Chevy Impala the night after my parents had been killed had been a terrifying. But the prospect of staying had been petrifying and had motivated me into action. Surprisingly, I had not actually hit anything and other than driving for 20 miles on the highway with the car in 3rd gear instead of drive it had not gone too bad. Gas pedal makes it go. Steering wheel makes the car turn. I had not concerned myself with the brake pedal for at least 6 hours. No problem.

  Learning to drive had been much easier to learn than fighting. Learning to fight had been painful. I had worked out diligently and lifted weights for three months and tried my best to figure out how to learn to fight on my own but eventually I realized it takes two to tango. So I started picking fights everywhere. I got my butt kicked over and over again but eventually I started getting better.

  The same had been true with learning how to use a sword but a little more hazardous. You just can’t go picking a fight with a normal people and expect them to have a sword. No, I had to pick fights with wizards to learn how to fight with a sword. I want to say I had been lucky and thankfully learning to fight with a sword had gone better. It sounded conceited to say that it had gone better because I had been working out for 6 months straight and had the hard muscles to prove it. It sounded arrogant to say that it went better because I had worked hard to become an excellent fighter.

  But luck had nothing to do with it. I made my own luck. I worked my ass off every day to simply survive. Learning to fight had not gone smoothly and I have the scars to prove it. But in the end the wizards had no scars. They were dead and decomposing. Yea, I will take my scars.

  Around the next corner was finally an empty parking place. It was a Saturday night, one day before the Li
tha Sabbat and I was following the wizard I was hunting. I had thought he would be going to abduct his victim but instead he was leading me to the ends of the earth. Okay maybe it was a bit of an exaggeration to call Chelsea, Michigan the ends of the earth but not by much. As I got out of the CR-V and walked around to the front to the sidewalk a group of Yuppie Puppies walked by me and I felt uncomfortably out of place.

  Listening to my emotions I reached in the back of the CR-V and pulled out a nice light blue cardigan sweater that would dress up my tank top and jean skirt. I still felt out of place in my running shoes but there was no way I was changing out of them this far in a hunt. I knew from experience that if things went wrong when I was this deep into the hunt then they would go really bad. Second Rule of Life: Always plan a getaway.

  All I could do now is trail the wizard and wait for my opportunity to strike while hoping for the best and preparing for the worst. I started walking down the sidewalk and passed another group of Yuppy Puppies mingling on the street corner. My mind was drawn back to the Goodwill Store in Jackson in which I had purchased the sweater that I was wearing. There was something nagging at the back of my mind about the shopping trip and I needed to figure out what it was and my instincts told me it was urgent and mortally imperative. I always listen to my instincts.

  I analyze the shopping trip as I continued to walk past a crowded BBQ place with a line snaking out the door. I had bought a sleeping bag, a sheet, a flashlight…then my mind remembered the flannel men’s shirt I had bought for cold nights and everything that had been nagging in the back of my mind fell into place.

  Only years of discipline over my emotions kept me walking calmly down the sidewalk while my instincts screamed at me to run. Instead I continued to casually stroll down the sidewalk.

  There had been a man in the store shopping with me. He had nondescript ordinary features that had all come together to make him uncommonly attractive. He had brown hair that had a slight curly. It should have made him appear disheveled but instead gave him a casual appeal. His brown eyes were not the deep brown soulful eyes but were a lighter brown with a gray haze to them. They had reminded me of a stormy sky. He was only mildly tall probably around five foot eleven. He was lean and looked to be muscular by the way he carried himself. He had been dressed in a red t-shirt, red flannel shirt, jeans, and a pair of work boots. All of which were clean but had obviously seen real work from their worn appearance.

  At first I had thought he looked out of place but then he had spoken to a worker who seemed to know him. She had told him that they had just gotten a bunch of flannel shirts and took him over to the rack I had just gotten a flannel shirt from. I had moved over to where blankets were in search of a thick one to place on the cold cement floor of the abandoned steel manufacturing building I was sleeping in.

  He had bought three flannel shirts and left before I had so I had been put at ease. I decided that I he had stood out to me because I had been sexually attracted to him. If I had to sum him up in one word it would have been casual. He was good looking but his hair was cut in a simple cut that simply hung down. His clothes had been comfortable. Finally the way he interacted with the worker had been soft and comforting. He would have been the type of man I would have wanted to marry when I was a girl.

  After the Goodwill Store I had stopped by a grocery store for food. There had been a second man at the grocery store that had caught my attention as well. This man had been strikingly attractive in a conventional way. Blond hair, sculptured nose, chin, jaw and cheek bones. He was tall, just over 6 feet and impeccably dressed in a crisp aqua polo shirt, khaki pants, and brown dress shoes.

  But it had been what had happened the following day that left me terrified right now. The next night I had been wandering around downtown Jackson. As a precautionary practice I never go directly to the place I am sleeping. First, I wander around for an hour or so checking my back trail frequently to make sure I am not being followed. Then I always have a route that I can duck down an ally or through a culvert quickly and sneak back to the abandoned building I am currently sleeping in.

  That night, I had turned a corner and stopped abruptly to look in a corner store window at a display. This was a maneuver that I had done numerous times to make sure no one was following me. I was not really looking at the window display but through the glass corner back at where I had come from to see if anyone was walking down the side walk behind me. The two men, one from Goodwill and the grocery store were walking on the sidewalk behind me. They had nodded a casual distracted greeting to me and continued walking.

  They had spooked me. I could have sworn they were following me. I wandered around Jackson for another hour checking my back trail to make sure I was not being followed. If they had been following me they had realized they had been made and left. Eventually, I made my way back to the abandoned factory and slept for the night, but not very well.

  Now, there they were standing on a street corner in Chelsea together. This could not be a coincidence. I had not gotten any vibes from them that led me to believe that they were wizards and you can be sure I had examined the blond guy closely. He was simply too beautiful not to suspect he was a wizard.

  The timing of this could not have been worse. Tonight was the night before the Litha Sabbat. If my prey followed the pattern he had established in his previous ritualistic sacrifices he would abduct his victim tonight and take her to a rundown barn in the middle of nowhere. There he would tie her up and hold her until the following night when he would perform the ritual sacrifice.

  I needed to wait until he started his ritual to attack. His energy and focus would be on the ritual and I hoped he would be distracted. His distraction was the only hope I had of actually getting out of this without being seriously hurt or killed. Still I had a small hope and small hopes were all I ever allowed myself. Big hopes were distracting and dangerous.

  That was why I had no hope that the two men showing up here together was a coincidence. That would have been a very lucky coincidence and therefore, a big hope. No, they were following me and I had to figure out why and stop them if I wanted to salvage this hunt.

  I steadied my nerves, buried my fear down deep and resigned myself to killing the two men that followed me. I allow myself to hope that I could find out why they were following me before I killed them, even thought that was pushing the boundaries into the big hope side of things.

  I walked with a purpose as I turned the next corner and walked down the sidewalk I wanted to get away from the crowded downtown to a quiet residential neighborhood. Instead I found purple lights and a theater with a bustling crowd waiting go inside.

  I noticed an alley and turned abruptly down it. It led behind the buildings to a parking lot and more people. Was there nowhere in this town that was not crowded on a Saturday night? I kept walking and came out on the next street over. This one looked much less crowded and I walked away from downtown. I kept walking and made my way into a residential area that was filled with really old houses. The kind that looked like witches should live in which made me nervous all over again. Where there are fake witches there might be real wizards.

  I picked up the pace and made it to the next block in only a few minutes. I really wanted to turn around and make sure the two men were following me. As I walked I quickly took in the funeral home off to my left. I was looking for something that I could stop and fake interest in, giving myself the chance to check my back trail.

  The funeral home was a plain large gray building that was trying to pass itself off as a home and keep up the residential feel of the neighborhood. I studied the landscaping but it was neat and nondescript. The steps leading up to the porch were wide and made to accommodate a large group of people but was plain as well. In the corner were two wicker chairs. A man sat in one of the chairs and the unexpected sight of him startled me and I nodded to him in greeting while I took in his appearance.

  This man had seen many years and judging by his appearance none of them had been e
asy. His skin on his face was tan and tough looking and folded together in wrinkles. On his head he had on a wide brimmed canvas hat. His gray hair stuck out the bottom of the hat. He wore a pastel plaid dress shirt, khaki dress pants, and canvas boat shoes. All in all he looked like he belonged on a sailing ship.

  Years of practice had given me the ability to take all of this in and process it in an instant. It was a fact that up until this point I was proud of. But when my eyes met the old man’s what I saw made me realize that my skills paled in comparison to his.

  In that same instant the old man on the porch had seen me. A tired worn out women with a sword and knife strapped to her but hidden by magic. A hunter on a hunt that now had become a hunter with men following her. A fighter that was desperately hoping to turn the hunt around and become not only the hunter again but the slayer as well.

  The old man stood up casually as though he had not a care in the world and took two steps down the stairs toward me. “There you are. You are running late. Come on in before the lemonade gets warm.” He said this with all the grace and charm of a Southern Gentleman with not a care in the world. For an instant I truly believed he had been sitting there waiting for me and I was here with no other purpose than to visit him and drink his lemonade.

  I only debated the situation for a second before I chanted a quick prayer to The Goddess to watch over me as I turned and walked up the stairs toward him.

  I was thankful when he wrapped his arm around me to hug me while simultaneously turning me so that I could see my back trail. There stood not only the two men that I knew were following me but two others as well. Whatever this old man was or was going to do I was lucky not to have to confront the 4 men that had been following me.

  That was before I felt the sword he had strapped to his side dig into my side as I turned and walked into the funeral home. I instantly changed my mind when I realized that I had not seen or detected it before now. The 4 men behind me suddenly seemed the easier choice. However, the old man had his arm gripped tightly around my shoulders letting me know that I was his.