The Hunter

by Kurt Robinson

  “You are one tough motherfucker,” Lewis grumbled. “But that’s okay. I like a challenge. Grew up on them my whole life and you’re no fuckin’ different. So come on, give me your best shot. I know that ain’t all you got.”

  Lewis then held out both of his hands, his knife in his left, and bent his knees slightly as if he was bracing for an attack. Without saying a word, John made the same pose, prepared for anything. They both took one step toward each other and then stepped to the right, moving in a circle again. Blood dripped off both of them, eventually creating a red circle in the ice as they each waited for the other to attack first.

  John wanted Lewis to attack first because he felt he was better at defense than offense. Then they both heard a cracking sound under them, stopped moving, and looked down. The ice was beginning to crack where they were standing, and around them. They both jerked their heads back up and looked at each other. John still waited because he knew Lewis was going to make his move; Lewis was relentless. John was right because Lewis stepped toward him and began his attack.

  Lewis approached John as he readied himself once more. Lewis tried to jab John with his knife hand, but John blocked it as the two knives scrapped against each other. Lewis moved forward again, forcing John to step back where the ice cracked again. Lewis tried again to stick him but John blocked it and then landed a quick punch that Lewis never saw coming, on his already broken nose. Lewis took a couple steps back clinching his nose again, screaming in pain. His eyes began to water, hindering his vision, but he reared up and made another run at John.

  With the two men stomping so hard on the ice, it cracked even more. Some places had broken completely, and water could now be seen. Watching Lewis come straight to him, John ducked down at the precise moment, that Lewis swung his knife, causing Lewis to miss and stuck the sharp gut hook of his knife into Lewis’ abdomen. The sting took Lewis’ breath away as gasped for air, his arm dangling helplessly over John’s shoulder now. But it wasn’t over for him.

  John looked behind Lewis, saw the ice breaking toward them, and twisted the knife in Lewis’ flesh, which caused the wound to open and spew out blood. The gut hook was now facing upward. The pain was so severe that Lewis dropped his knife and began shaking. John stood up and looked directly into Lewis’ eyes.

  “You…fuck…” Lewis stammered, and then grabbed the collar of John’s shirt.

  “Now, no one will find you…you corrupt piece of shit,” John countered, pulled his knife upward until he felt the gut hook catch on Lewis’ skin and, as fast as he could, ripped open Lewis’ stomach all the way to his breast plate. Blood flowed from the gaping tear like a waterfall as parts of his intestines fell loose.

  Lewis began to fall backward. John saw the ice was going to give way when he did. So, he turned around, still holding his knife, and jumped on the old wooden dock, which caused the ice around him to break apart. He landed hard on the edge of the dock on his upper torso, his shoes barely touching the icy water. Lewis, still barely alive, hit the ice and it shattered on impact. The water turned red as he splashed into the frigid waters. With his heavy winter jacket and water flowing into his open wound, he sunk to the bottom of the pond, convulsing until he drowned.

  John, still hanging off the dock, watched Lewis hit the water and then sink down not to be seen again. He took a deep breath and pulled himself onto the snow-covered dock, and rolled over onto his back. He wiped the blood off his knife, stuck it in its sheath, and stared toward the sky.

  Twenty-Seven

  Saturday – 2:37 P.M.

  April Watkins sat in the backseat of the Lexington Police Air Support helicopter, with no headset, handcuffed to a handlebar on the ceiling. Harper sat next to her, looking out the window and then back to her every now and then. She was confused, scared, and panicked all at the same time; she had no idea why she was here or what was going on. She was also cold, wearing nothing but sweat pants, house shoes, a thin shirt, and a jacket on top. The noise from the helicopter rotors was also loud and hurting her ears. She had no control of the situation. She looked at Emily who began to speak into her headset.

  “Adam, we’re about two minutes out from your last location. Are you still there?” She asked.

  “Yeah, I’m still here,” Adam responded. “Bring it down.”

  “Roger.”

  Emily flew the helicopter a little further, looked down, and saw Adam waving his arms back and forth in another open field. As she began her descent, Emily noticed that they were not far from several homes on a country road to their north. She wondered if John had made his way to them yet or not. Then she looked to her east and, just before she dipped below a hill and trees, she saw what appeared to be red in the snow, broken ice on a pond, and possibly a man lying on a dock. She didn’t catch it quickly enough and couldn’t confirm, as hill and trees obstructed her view.

  Emily made a smooth landing as the skids dug into the snow. Adam stood in front of them with his head turned to the side and arms up blocking the flying snow from piercing his face. She switched off the engine and the main rotor and the tail rotor began to slow down. Adam stood still for a few more seconds, giving the rotors and snow time to calm down, before making his way to the left side of chopper.

  Emily took off her headset, unhooked the seatbelt, opened her door and stepped out. Harper got up, moved across April, who watched him and tried to stay back away from him, and slid open the door. April felt a gust of the bitter wind as Harper then turned to her and unlocked her handcuffs. She rubbed her wrists, as each one was unhooked. Her survival instincts kicking in, she landed an elbow to Harper’s face, who fell back against the front seat, jumped down out of the chopper, and attempted to run for it.

  She took two steps and then fell down into the snow, the wind still fierce from the rotors coming to a stop. She tried to get up but saw two black boots in front of her. Freezing and squinting through all the elements, she raised her head up slowly, revealing the man standing before her. She moved her eyes all the way up his body until she saw his face. She didn’t know what to think or feel.

  “Adam!?” she asked. “What’s going on!?”

  “I’m sorry, April,” Adam said, sounding sincere. “You can blame this on John.”

  “What?” she asked again, confused.

  Emily appeared to April’s left, her pistol in her hand, and Harper jumped out of the chopper to stand behind her, his G36 firmly in his grip. April looked at Emily and then to Harper but saw nothing but darkness in their eyes. She looked back to Adam, who nodded his head at Harper, turned around, and walked away. Harper approached April from behind, grabbed her by the hair, and pulled her up as she gave out a scream. Emily took off with Adam as Harper forced April forward.

  “What happened to your nose?” Emily asked.

  “That fuckin’ cocky rookie of ours.”

  John heard the familiar rumble as he lay in the snow on the dock, his backside wet and cold now. He had his eyes closed for a minute, blocking out all the bright light, but opened them back up when he heard the helicopter breaking the silence. He turned his head to the right, toward the sound, and saw the chopper appear above the tree line. He recognized it immediately. He wondered where it had gone - now it was back. He sat up as it went down below the other end of the tree line. The sound faded some, but not enough to change its distance from him. He stood up and listened to it closely. It sounded like it was landing maybe a couple hundred yards away.

  “What the hell is going on now?” he asked aloud.

  His gut told him something else was up because he knew Adam was still out there. Maybe he had another plan? Maybe he sent for more men again? Regardless, John wasn’t about to stay where he was. So he made his way off the dock and remembered that he knocked Lewis’ gun from his hand in the barn. He made his way over to the barn and went in through the door. He looked around on the floor and spotted the stainless-steel Sig Sauer. He walked over and picked it up. About to leave the barn and head in the direction of the c
hopper, he heard another rumbling, but this one sounded like a tractor engine to him.

  “Now what?” he asked himself again.

  He went to the door and looked out, but saw nothing. He went out the door, his new pistol up and ready. He made his way to the opposite side of the barn where the pond was, with his back against the wooden slats of the barn. Once he reached the edge of the barn, he slowly peeked his head around the corner and, making its way out of the trees, along the narrow road, saw a green John Deere tractor with a plow heading straight toward him.

  John didn’t know who the man was, but he knew he wasn’t one of the men trying to kill him. The man was probably a local farmer who was plowing snow somewhere and making his way back. As a matter of fact, the barn was probably his and John had just put a hole in the side of it. Nevertheless, John thought this was his chance to seek help, so he did just that. He revealed himself from behind the barn and walked toward the man on the tractor. With his hands held up, including the pistol in his right hand, he approached he tractor.

  “Sir!” John yelled. “Sir, stop please! Please stop! I need help!”

  The man saw him, and the gun, and brought the tractor to a stop. He was an old man who was probably in his late seventies. He looked frightened and just stared at John for a second, but then spoke once he saw the gun in John’s hand, “Don’t shoot!”

  “I’m not gonna shoot you,” John told him. “It’s okay. I need help. I’ve been chased all through this godforsaken country by dirty cops because I saw something I shouldn’t have. But, that’s not important right now, what I need to know is do you have a cell phone. I need to call the local police.”

  “Jesus, son,” the old man began. “That’s awful, but I don’t have a cell phone. I have a landline back at the house. That’s where I was headed back to, about a half mile up this road.”

  “Okay,” John sighed. “Well keep going that way then. This mess isn’t finished yet. When you get back to your house, call the police and tell them to get here as soon as they can. Tell them corrupt police officers are trying to kill an innocent man. There are dead bodies scattered throughout the woods, there is one in your pond, you’ll see the blood when you drive by. Tell them to get here as fast as they can. I gotta go, you better go too, there are more out there trying to find me,” John explained.

  “Alright, son. I’ll call them as fast as I can,” the old man said and then started his tractor back up and continued along the road.

  John backed away and watched him until he went into another set of trees about a hundred feet on the other side of the barn. He then pulled the slide back slightly on the pistol to check and see if there was a round chambered - there was - and released the magazine to see eight rounds in the magazine, before it back in. He turned around and began to walk in the direction he saw the chopper go down below the tree line. He followed the road the farmer made, and just before he got to where it went into the trees he heard his radio give off static and then that voice come through.

  “Lewis, come in,” Adam said and waited for a few seconds before speaking again. “Lewis, come in damnit!”

  John unhooked the radio from his belt and spoke into it. “Too bad you missed him, he’s fish food now! You’re running out of dirty cops, asshole!”

  Adam, not surprised and ignoring the information about Lewis, said “Oh no, there are always more dirty cops in the world. But…that’s more money for me with that fucker gone!”

  “Of course there is,” John responded.

  “But I had a feeling you might get the best of him, so I have a backup plan,” there was a brief pause on Adam’s end and then a new voice came through.

  “John…” that was the only word April could get off before Adam jerked the radio back to him.

  Shocked and frightened, John listened to Adam talk through the radio.

  “Get the picture, buddy?” Adam began. “I didn’t want to do this, but you left me no choice. I love April, so this hurts me as much as it hurts you right now. I don’t want to kill her, but I will if I have to. So, I’ll make you deal. You’re already dead, you’re dying no matter what. But if you give up, I will only kill you and let April and your unborn baby live and she will never see me again. I’ll leave this shitty place with the few million I have tucked away. Yes, that means leaving Sarah too, not that I care about that anymore anyway. But that’s only if you bring your ass to me and I put a bullet in your fuckin’ head. Sacrifice one life to save two, your choice.”

  John brought his arms down to his side with the radio in his right hand, and stood there as his heart sunk. He panicked slightly and breathed heavily. Even though Adam was not the person John once knew, John knew he was telling the truth that he would not kill April if he gave himself up. He knew Adam loved April - they had all been friends for over ten years. Adam loved her like John loved Adam, best friends until the day they died. John knew what he had to do. He would give himself up to his best friend in order to save the love of his life and their unborn child. He would give Adam the victory.

  John brought the radio back up, depressed the button, and spoke. “Yeah, okay. I’m coming. I saw the chopper go down. I’m probably a couple hundred yards away. I’m on the way.”

  “Good,” Adam said and then added. “The chopper will be hovering above us, head toward it.”

  “Okay. April…I love you, baby,” John said.

  “How sweet,” Adam commented.

  John then turned off the radio, hooked it back on his belt, put the pistol in his waist at the small of his back, and began walking, thinking about his loving wife.

  Twenty-Eight

  Saturday – 3:03 P.M.

  Adam Hart, holding onto the arm of a freezing April Watkins, looked at his watch, on the same hand he was holding his gun, and saw that it had been nearly thirty minutes since John said he was on the way. He sighed angrily and looked around again, but saw nothing except snow and trees. The helicopter hovered a couple hundred feet above them, so the snow and wind wouldn’t be as bad, and watched for John as well. They hadn’t seen him yet either. Finally, Adam’s patience ran out and he brought up the radio.

  “Where the fuck are you, John?” Adam demanded.

  Then April turned to Adam and spoke to him, “Adam please don’t do this. You’re like a brother to us…”

  “Shut the fuck up. We’re too far gone,” he told her.

  He waited a little longer and when John did not answer he spoke into the radio again, “Goddamnit, John! Are you really gonna make me do this?” He brought the radio back down and looked around once more, looking for movement near or in the trees. Nothing came through the radio and he didn’t see anything, so he went to his last option. “Alright, Johnny, this is your choice!” He brought the radio down, stepped back, and pointed his pistol at April’s head. Terrified, she closed her eyes and began to cry. However, something finally happened on the radio.

  “I’m here!” John yelled into the radio.

  April’s eyes popped open as she let out a breath of air. Adam looked down at the radio, brought his gun down, brought the radio up, and looked around for him.

  “It’s about time,” Adam told him through the radio. “Where the fuck are you?”

  “Coming out of the trees to your left,” John told him.

  Both Adam and April turned and looked to the left and sure enough, they saw John come out of the trees about thirty-five yards from their position. April was relieved to see John and she gave a small smile, despite the ordeal, through the freezing temperatures. He came out of the trees in his blue jeans and camouflage button up shirt, both with bloodstains on them, which she saw. April could also see some blood on his face.

  “Jesus,” she said.

  “Walk to us with your hands up,” Adam told him into the radio.

  “Okay, I don’t have a gun,” John responded and began walking toward them.

  “Emily, you got him?” Adam asked Emily into his radio as he looked up to the chopper.

&nb
sp; “Yep,” she answered. “Harper’s got him in his sights.”

  “Good. Watch him in case he tries anything.”

  “Roger.”

  Adam hooked his radio to his belt and moved April around so she was facing John. He stood behind her to her right pointing his pistol at her head once again. They both watched John walk toward them through the deep snow. April was shaking from the cold, petrified. Adam was stoic and watched John’s every move as he made his way toward them. Finally, when John was about ten yards in front of them, Adam told him to stop.

  “That’s close enough,” Adam told him and John stopped in his tracks. Adam then pointed the pistol at John. “What the fuck is wrong with you?” Adam asked him.

  “What the fuck is wrong with you?” John asked the same question. “You used to be a good man…and a good friend.”

  “I gave you your fuckin’ chance to walk away, but no, you wanted to be a hero…be good. All you had to do was say okay and go back home. So, this is not my fault! It’s yours! You blew it, not me!” Adam screamed at him, shaking the gun up and down slightly.

  “What happened to you?” John asked him.

  “Well, I like money, John. And we needed more of it. I go to work every-fuckin’-day and put my life on the line chasing after the sick fucks in this world for barely anything. But you…you go to your factory job and make twice as much as I do. It’s fuckin’ bullshit! That’s what happened to me.” He yelled and then paused. John’s face tensed. “So, when I was introduced to our little side business and found out the money it paid. How could I say no to that?”

  “Because you’re a good man!” John yelled.

  “No! I was a good man, but you have no idea the toll this job takes on a man. Not to mention how much better you two have it compared to us. So, extra money means less stress and a happier life in this fuckin’ day and age,” Adam paused again. “Then we ran into you on pure fuckin’ dumb luck! And you wouldn’t just keep your fuckin’ mouth shut for your best friend. That’s what friends do, they cover for each other!”