Trackers

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Trackers Page 6

by J. W. McKenna


  Chapter Fifteen

  Roger Bollinger turned on five of the seven TVs in the den and watched the shaky images. Unbeknownst to the participants, he had placed grid markings at regular intervals on the trees throughout the property. Any time a grid marker showed up on a screen, he knew instantly where that person’s location was.

  He was shocked, therefore, to see Amy’s camera pick up the marker 2E-2S when she should’ve been much farther west. The prey had turned around! He smiled. “You go, girl.”

  He left the den and climbed the stairs to the second-floor loft. It had picture windows all around. Picking up a pair of binoculars, he focused it southeast of the lodge.

  There! He got a glimpse of Amy running through the trees behind the lodge, heading toward the eastern fence. She looked like a graceful animal, he thought. Fast, smart—and now, thanks to Dirk, armed. This might be the best hunt yet.

  Jake followed Dirk and Jackson, but he was troubled. He looked behind him to see Steve bringing up the rear. This didn’t make sense to him, all of them following the same path. Even if they found her, they’d all be bunched together, fighting for the first shot. The problem was, of course, they didn’t know which direction she would ultimately go—north or south?

  Well, he thought, even as he slowed further, two days ago, she went south. Maybe this time, she’ll go north. He wished he knew where the booth was. Jake wondered what Andy would do if he were here.

  “Jake,” he’d probably say, “it’s like binary code. It’s either off or on, white or black. Just pick one and go.”

  When Steve jogged past him, breathing hard, Jake cut right—to the north.

  Amy felt she had run about a mile and a half east, well past the lodge. She didn’t want to wait until she saw the fence this time, she had to make her move now. North or south, north or south? Where’s that goddammed booth?

  Hell, it was south last time, maybe Bollinger put it north. Or maybe he’d figure she’d think it was north, so he put it south. Dammit!

  Amy swung northward.

  Dirk, jogging just a few steps in front of Jackson, turned to see how far back the other two men were and was surprised not to see Jake. He slowed and Jackson slowed as well, grateful for the break. He was winded. Shit! Back in his day, he could do two-a-day workouts without a thought, or run the length of the field like the wind.

  “Jake’s gone,” Dirk said. Jackson turned. Sure enough, only Steve was jogging along behind them. He caught up quickly.

  “He…cut…north,” Steve said, gasping between words.

  “He’s probably right,” Dirk said. “We should split up, otherwise, we’ll be all over each other.”

  “I’ll go south,” Steve volunteered, happy to leave these hyper-competitive men who reminded him just how much of his youth he had lost.

  “Yeah,” Dirk said. “We’re still about a mile and a half away from the fence. I’ll go to the end and cut north. You wanna go to the end and go south?” He looked at Jackson.

  Jackson just grinned, showing a lot of white teeth. “Nah. I’ll stick with you for a while.”

  Dirk didn’t like the sound of that. He must still be pissed about the dart. Suddenly, he realized Jackson could make it hard for him to win this contest. He eyed the net gun warily.

  “Maybe we shouldn’t split up, after all,” he said. “Steve’s got the long gun—we could really use that.”

  “You got the bolo—you still got a longer range than the girl,” Jackson noted. Until this moment, he didn’t realize just how much he wanted to be alone with Dirk. He could feel his muscles rippling with anger along his back.

  “Hey, it’s every man for himself. I’m going south,” Steve announced and without waiting for argument, he jogged off.

  “Shit,” Dirk said. “I hope we don’t need that.”

  “Why? You hoping to get a hold of it again?”

  Dirk shook his head. “Come on, we’re wasting time.” They continued down the road.

  Chapter Sixteen

  The men were scattered now, except for Dirk and Jackson. Bollinger caught glimpses of grid locations in the five screens, then closed his eyes, visualizing the layout of the playing field. He wanted to be ready when the hunters closed in on their prey. He could see it all: Jake running north, Steve running south, Dirk and Jackson still running west along the road.

  The prey was running north as well, not far from the eastern fence.

  He smiled. The safety booth had been placed south again this time. In fact, he told Mort not to bother moving it, only to collect the one in the north and bring it back to the barn. The girl had no chance now.

  He looked back at the screen. “You’re going in the wrong direction, honey,” he breathed.

  Amy was thoroughly winded. She guessed she was still a good mile or more from the north fence. She hoped she had guessed right, otherwise this would be a short contest. The gun was heavy in her hand and she almost wished she hadn’t been given the nearly useless weapon. Amy felt like she had been running for an hour, yet it was probably less than twenty minutes.

  Jake jogged on, tired but wary, trying to listen for footsteps or other noises through the trees. He guessed he was nearing the north fence now. He slowed and began to drift east. Because all three men were running west, he didn’t want to get near them again. They may well have her already, he thought angrily. Then again, he hadn’t heard any shots from Bollinger’s gun.

  Steve felt like the loneliest man on the planet. The farther he ran, the more he was convinced he had gone the wrong way. Still, he knew he had to cover the ground. He was really tired and the thorns scratched his naked flesh as he ran by them. This wasn’t such a good idea, he thought. I should’ve admitted I was too old for this.

  That would make Phil right, he realized. He was determined not to admit that to himself.

  Jackson had a very simple plan in mind for Dirk. He’d let him get close to Amy, then tangle him up with the net. He hoped the girl would be out of ammo by then. If not, he might have to dodge and weave until she was. Then he would simply tackle her, like he had so many running backs and wide receivers.

  Dirk was trying to figure out how to shake Jackson. He knew the man was out to spoil his fun. Dirk also knew he probably deserved it. What had been a wild, spur-of-the-moment decision in the earlier hunt could easily end up costing him one hundred grand. Maybe I should shoot him first, he thought.

  Chapter Seventeen

  Amy had to rest. She was breathing so hard, she thought she might pass out. Perhaps I should change my strategy. Rest now and look for the booth when it opens. She knew that was her weakness talking. She had no use for it today. Not if she wanted to win this.

  Amy forced herself on. She wasn’t running any longer, just loping or walking fast, breathing in great gasps. Sweat poured off her body and got in her eyes. She grabbed some leaves from a tree and tried to wipe down her forehead, only to have more sweat replace it.

  She was about to come out of a copse of trees into a meadow when instinct made her stop and crouch down. A noise froze her. There! A man was skirting the edge of the meadow about two hundred yards to her left. Amy squinted. It was Mr. Green, the handsome one. Her stomach flip-flopped and the heat extended down to her loins. Being naked only exacerbated her lust. Her imagination flashed on an image of her, down on the ground, her legs spread wide, as Mr. Green thrust into her again and again.

  She shook off the thought. What the hell’s wrong with me? Amy watched him move north, letting him go, for now. Her predatory feelings surprised her. She fought to concentrate on her strategy. Now he was between her and the fence. If the booth was up there, he could just wait nearby until she showed up. Dammit! Her narrow odds just got longer.

  Steve’s luck was incredible. He had gone straight south from the road, leaving everyone behind. Now, through the trees ahead, he spotted the telltale red splash of color. The booth! He jogged closer, trying to keep out of sight in case the woman was already here.

  When
he was within two hundred yards, he spotted Mort standing by his cart. Steve guessed they had about another ten minutes before the booth would be opened. He didn’t see Amy anywhere. Of course, she could be keeping herself well hidden. Steve crept the last hundred yards, staying out of sight. If he could hide himself in front here, Amy may not see him until it was too late. He could dart her, then grab her when the drug took effect.

  Steve settled down to wait.

  Chapter Eighteen

  Amy followed Mr. Green, keeping well back. By now, she was beginning to doubt she had gone in the right direction. Still, she had to be sure. If she kept the hunter in her line of sight, and watched carefully behind her as well, she should be able to determine if the booth was placed along the northern fence or not. She’d pause now and then, checking behind her in a slow circle, to make sure no one was sneaking up on her.

  Suddenly, a full-throated shot rang through the air, followed by another one. Both came from behind her. She whirled around, angrily.

  Shit! I’d guessed wrong after all. Amy knew at that moment that she’d never be allowed to reach the booth now. By the time she got there, it would be well-guarded. The hunters would just hang around and wait her out. No doubt they were all running toward the noise—except Mr. Green.

  Amy hunkered down in the bushes and soon caught sight of her opponent jogging south. He would be coming very close, she noticed. An idea took hold of her. She struggled with it.

  She hid behind a tree as Mr. Green approached. When she heard his footsteps clearly, she jumped out, raised her gun and shouted, “Freeze!”

  Jake was so startled, he dropped his gun as he whirled around. He stood, mouth agape, then grimaced and closed his eyes, waiting for the inevitable splat of color that would put him out of the game. It never came.

  Cautiously, he opened his eyes again. The girl was just standing there in her glorious nakedness, breathing hard and watching him, the gun aimed squarely on his chest. He could feel his cock harden.

  He started to speak, then stopped. Words did not seem important now. Tentatively, he took a step toward her, away from his gun lying in the dirt. She kept her gun steady on his chest.

  His cock ached. He felt it leading him on. He sensed she felt the same way.

  Amy was confused. She had meant to surprise him, then shoot him and knock him out of the hunt. Yet she stood here, watching him, unable to move. Something powerful was happening. Her cunt was leaking, the juices covering her clit. A strange heat emanated from her loins.

  She opened her mouth, then closed it again. There was nothing to say. She took a step forward, her gun beginning to droop. He followed, closing the gap between them.

  They were just five yards apart now, eyes burning into each other’s. Amy’s breath caught in her throat. It was as if all the normal rules had been suspended. They were naked, they were hunter and hunted—only which was which? It would have been easy to resist their mutual attraction in more conventional setting. But here, now…

  Her gun dropped to the ground; they rushed to close the gap between them. She felt his hot breath on her lips, then his mouth smothered hers, his arms enveloped her. Her breasts were pressed tightly between them, sweat mingling.

  Jake felt his hard cock press against her stomach. Her incredible warmth made him harder still. He had to have her.

  The bills of their caps bumped and suddenly, both realized that they were being recorded! With hardly a pause, they ripped off their hats and wrapped the material around the lenses. They looked at each other and smiled.

  Stripping off the fanny packs, they both took a few seconds to scan the horizon. They were alone. Motioning to her, Jake led her to a group of bushes. Behind them, there was some meadow grass, protected from the sun.

  They dropped their packs, making sure the cameras remained blinded. They fell together onto the grass.

  At the lodge, Bollinger stared at the two dark screens. He stopped the tape and backed it up, not believing what he had just seen. The look of lust in the eyes of those two was unmistakable. The way they came together, the images blurring as they met, made him hard. He adjusted his pants, then opened the top drawer of his desk and pulled out the contract. He began reading.

  Amy wanted Jake, needed him, had to have him. His mouth fastened on her breast; she hugged him to her, humping her groin against his thigh. He reached down and touched her cunt—she nearly had an orgasm right then and there.

  Jake kissed her again, tasting her sweet scent. He lost himself in her: mouth, neck, breasts, arms, legs—and hot, wet cunt. There was more animal than girl in her. The inside of her thighs were soaked, he felt it coat his fingers.

  Without a word, he moved between her legs. She opened herself immediately, then grabbed him around the neck. His hard cock found its mark. Jake poised there, relishing the best moment of a man’s life—about to plunge into the slippery core of a willing woman.

  In one motion, he was fully inside her. She gasped and made inarticulate noises in her throat. Amy wrapped her legs around his waist and hung on as Jake began to thrust deep into her. Colors ran together; she closed her eyes and saw stars.

  The orgasm was building, building, timed with the noises of their union—the slap of their thighs, the wet sounds of cock and cunt, the soft moans of desire. Their world was reduced to this moment in time.

  Their timing, incredibly, was perfect. Just as Jake erupted in a hoarse cry, Amy shook with an orgasm that seemed to race from her curled toes to the top of her head. She felt his hot sperm flood her womb. They clung together, unwilling to let the blissful encounter end. It was, by far, the best orgasm she had ever experienced.

  Too late, she remembered the condom in his fanny pack. In the heat of the moment, it hadn’t mattered. Idly, almost with detachment, she wondered if she was pregnant.

  Finally, they separated and lay, exhausted, staring up at the brilliant blue sky.

  “I thought you were going to shoot me,” he panted. It was the first words they had spoken to each other today.

  She laughed. “I was planning to. But there was something about seeing you standing there, naked, with your cock growing hard, that made me change my mind. I guess this means you’ve won. After all,” she rolled over and touched his chest, “you’ve already claimed your prize.”

  He thought about that. Yes, it was true—he had gotten to her first. But it wasn’t right. She had let him win. She had him dead to rights. He’d been outplayed.

  “No,” he said. He knew that somehow Bollinger would know. And he’d never let this pass. He sighed, trying to figure out what to do. “It isn’t right. Bollinger won’t buy it. I didn’t earn it.”

  Amy didn’t say anything for a minute. Then: “So what do we do now?”

  He turned to her. “Let’s pretend, for the purposes of the game, that this never happened. You had me in your sights, so you shoot me and go try to win this game—and the hundred grand.” He stilled. “In exchange, maybe you’d agree to go to dinner with me sometime?”

  “That’s very fair of you. But I don’t want you out of the game quite yet,” she said. “But, then again, I don’t want to lose to any other man.” The thought of having any one of the other three men root with her on the ground would spoil her memory of her encounter with Jake.

  “Well, if this never happened, then I guess I’m not out of the game, either.”

  She sat up. “So we’d just go on as before? You hunting me down like the rest?”

  “Hmm. Not quite. I wouldn’t really be trying to make you lose after all. You could think of me as your safety valve, you know. If it looked like you were going to lose, I could get you first.” He grinned. “You deserve that hundred grand.”

  Amy’s cheeks dimpled with her smile. “A man among beasts,” she whispered.

  They got up and put their gear back on, dusting off the dirt and grass stains as best as they could. They returned to where their weapons lay. She bent down to pick up the paint gun and his bolo gun.

&nbs
p; “Since you’re not going to be hunting, you won’t need this,” She slung his gun over her shoulder. “Consider yourself disarmed.”

  “Okay, pad’ner, you gots me.” Jake raised his hands in mock surrender.

  They stared at each other like two cowboys on a dusty street in Tombstone. Then their eyes began to drift down to their bodies and determination gave way to renewed lust. Jake felt himself getting hard again. They both chuckled.

  “By the way, my name is Jake,” he said.

  “You already know I’m Amy.”

  He glanced away, nervously clearing his throat. “Maybe after this is over, we could, hmm, see each other?” he said quietly. He turned his gaze back to her, his eyes hopeful. And a bit vulnerable.

  A sudden noise distracted them.

  Chapter Nineteen

  “What the hell is this?” Dirk said, hiding behind a bush, Jackson close beside him.

  They peered out to see their prey talking to Jake. They watched as she bent down and scooped up his weapon. They could also see his erection from one hundred yards away. Jake raised his hands.

  “What’s she doing?” Jackson asked. “Making a deal?”

  “Either that or flirting. Maybe she shot him already and we can’t see from here.”

  “If she did, he still wouldn’t have his hands raised. No, there’s some funny business going on.”

  “Come on. Maybe we can sneak up on her while she’s distracted.”

  “Shee-it. How could she be distracted by that little white-boy dick?”

  “Jake’ll be able to see us, you know. We should split up,” Dirk said. “You approach her from the side, I’ll come at her from behind. When she bolts, I’ll bolo her legs.”

  “And while I’m being the diversion, who gets to claim her? Jake or you?” Jackson sneered.

  Dirk let his anger flash. “Look, Jackson, having you hang around with me isn’t doing either of us any good. It’s winner-take-all, remember? That means I don’t need a teammate.”

 

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