The Hunted
Page 1
Prologue
Rocky Mountains
February 19, 2074
The big cat was lean; it had been a long winter already and aside from snow hares and one elk carcass found two weeks ago she had eaten very little. Fighting against hunger and waiting on her prey to walk the game trail below came naturally to her. Her wait was almost over. She was an ambush predator. Her prey would walk below her perch on a granite outcrop overlooking the trail, and she would spring. Her nose brought her the smell of elk, but she relied far more on sight, and this was no elk - it walked upright and carried a tree branch. As it passed below her perch she silently sprang, claws extended to grip, teeth bared to crush the throat.
Matt was not sure why he suddenly dove and rolled, but he always trusted these instincts. Coming back to his feet and turning he saw the mountain lion rise and begin to stalk him.
His spear was crude - the tip fire hardened and sharpened on a granite boulder was his only means of defense against the great cat. He did not need to kill her, only to convince her to seek easier prey elsewhere.
Hissing and spitting, she circled, looking for an opening, and he jabbed at her whenever she got to close.
“Heya! Git! Go on cat beat it!” Jab.“Scram!” Jab.
She should have given it up as a bad attempt by now, but still she circled looking for an opening. Starvation had driven her beyond reason and she could not let a possible meal escape.
“Damn, I guess we’ll have to do it the hard way then,” Matt muttered. He set himself as the cat’s haunches bunched in preparation to spring.
Ten days ago Matt was abandoned in the frigid, snow choked mountain pass, naked. He had been left to die, or rather; he had been left to live. If he could. At twelve Matt had been trained to survive in all types of environments for ten years now. This was graduation week. If he managed to survive for a week, he would be retrieved and the next phase of his education would commence, urban survival.
First he must make it through a week in the mountains in the middle of winter. As he prepared for his week alone he was not afraid, Matt had been trained in the world’s deepest darkest jungles, had in fact done a two day solo survival exercise in the Congo. He’d been trained in desert survival and had gone for four days alone in Death Valley. The mountains should be easy, even in sub-zero temperatures. There would be no shortage of water, and no tigers or anacondas, oh, maybe a grizzly, but he should be able to avoid that in winter. Bears don’t truly hibernate, but they do sleep an awful lot in the winter.
Packing for the trip, he decided to travel light. After all, everything he took would be examined, and evaluated. No firearms he decided. Even though he was an excellent marksman, and a skilled hunter, he had no desire to attract the attention of those who claimed Hunter as a title; The Hunters of Men.
Officially they were known as Special Agents in the Bureau of Genetic Purity. More commonly they were called the Gene Police or, simply Hunters. Their mandate was to locate and terminate any the government deemed to be genetically inferior. Any born outside government control were a risk, as the proper genetic manipulation had not been performed in the womb. Genetic manipulation that would ensure the fetus grew into exactly what the BGP decided was needed. This manipulation included tailoring genes for personality traits, removing excess free will, and implanting a desire to fill the designated role. Scientists had finished mapping human DNA in the last years of the 20th Century. 97 % had been successfully mapped and the remaining 3% considered inconsequential.
From conception, which was ordered and controlled by the BGP, the fetus, and later the child, had its genes rearranged to suit the grand purpose of the State. Often, since the advent of fertility drugs, the BGP was able to get as many as eight children from a single pregnancy. The mothers frequently did not survive more than two, or at most three, pregnancies, but BGP scientists were planning to ‘mix up’ a breeder. In the future the women who were used for childbirth would be genetically altered to perform as little more than brood mares, carrying implanted fetuses, thus allowing the genetic mother to continue her normal work. The plan included things like extra breasts, and an enlarged abdomen for carrying multiple fetuses. This was still a few years off, however.
Training started in the cradle; be it as a bureaucrat, or soldier, laborer, entertainer, or engineer. The parents were carefully screened and selected to find the best genetic mix, then the ‘Doctors’ mixed their potions. The result was the best that medical science and genetic engineering could create. Virtually eliminated were disease and birth defects. No Down’s Syndrome or AIDS, no cancer or heart disease, no Alzheimer’s, no arthritis. No one even caught cold anymore. People routinely lived 120 productive years or more. Traits that were not strictly speaking health issues, but were socially undesirable, were eliminated. There were no homosexuals, no loners, no one who was in any way different from what was considered normal. About the only thing they had been unable to correct was hair loss. It was supposed to be Utopia, and for a time it was.
The UN took control of the world in 2033. UN power and influence had been on the rise since the close of the twentieth century. America, long a bastion of freedom, had lost faith in its elected officials.
Wars in Iraq and Afghanistan dragged on without conclusion, gas prices that in 2008 topped $4 a gallon and in the next ten years only briefly fell below $3. A baffling immigration policy that would allow millions of illegal aliens to remain and even eventually become citizens split off a lot of the support the president had gained in his first term.
This inconsistent message made America look weak to the terrorists across the globe and more attacks began, some of them even on American soil. Bitter partisan politics ruled in Washington and state capitals across the nation.
In 2008 a democrat once again sat in the White House, and as divisive as the previous two administrations had been, this was worse. He was America’s first black president. This should have been exclusively a good thing, but racial tensions just under the surface, combined with very real political opposition, made things difficult for the young charismatic man in the Oval Office. The country had not been so divided since the Civil War.
The militia movement, long dormant, erupted into open conflict with the government in 2018. Frustrated with the agenda of one party and the ineffectiveness of the other, several militia organizations attacked government facilities.
The militias’ fatal weaknesses were a lack of central control, and too many different agendas. Some groups resented the all out ban on gun ownership, when Brady III was introduced in 2016. The bill had been fueled by a rash of school shootings, which allowed the liberals to paint guns as evil and at the same time, make the vicious killers out to be victims of society.
Some were Nazis and had nothing in common with the first group. Some were libertarians who believed the government had become tyrannical and must be replaced. The only thing they all had in common was a belief that their elected officials had betrayed them. Often, the militia groups hated each other as much as the government and this alone kept them from uniting.
Battle raged across the land for four years beginning near the end of the new president’s second term. No force arose that could defeat the American military, but the government had lost all control. Faced with enemies at home and abroad it was all the government could do to maintain a semblance of order in tightly controlled enclaves. Most of the country became virtually empty of government forces, save the occasional patrols.
Even those not actively involved in the conflict began to defy the government. From the beginning there were those who refused to pay taxes, and their numbers increased exponentially as the conflict worsened. In 2018 all efforts to collect income tax were abandoned and the IRS closed its doors forever.
On April 18, 2017, exactly 239 years after Paul Revere and William Dawes’ late night ride, UN peacekeeping forces arrived on American soil. There was no one to warn, “The UN is coming! The UN is coming!” On August 7, 2020 after three years of occupation they made it official and the United States of America was officially disbanded. The Constitution was declared null and void.
Similar events were occurring across the globe. All through the Balkans it was simply a matter of making it official. The UN had ruled there for more than a quarter century already. Africa, Europe, the Middle East, Asia, and finally Australia succumbed to the UN. Only New Zealand remained independent, due largely to the Assistant Commandant of the United States Marine Corps reinforcing them with a Marine Expeditionary Unit and additional support.
In October of that year a socialist faction gained control and moved swiftly to establish World Government. Declaring themselves as the only legitimate authority on the planet, they promised a new age of prosperity for all. For a time it appeared they were achieving that goal.
Trillions of ‘credits’ poured into infrastructure repair, transportation, and medical research, including cloning and genetic research. Soon the two fields of study were making progress in leaps and bounds. Cloning procedures were perfected in 2020, and the first viable human clone was ‘hatched’ on September 12, 2021. This was to be the single most significant event on the road to a totalitarian government.
Minister Fadwah, officially an advisor to the President of the new government, had a wife who was blind. Not from any natural cause, but as the result of faulty wiring on the ignition of her Mercedes, the fossil fuel powered vehicle being a status symbol. There was a spark near the gas pump, and in a freak accident that should never have happened Mrs. Fadwah was blinded in the resulting explosion. Damage to the car and gas station was minimal, and her life was never in any danger, but Mrs. Fadwah could no longer see.
Moving in secret and using his considerable power, the minister, who was the real power behind the President, had his wife cloned. The growth of the fetus was accelerated using hormone treatments and when the clone had reached an approximate age of 20, her eyes were removed and transplanted into the minister’s wife.
Minister Fadwah knew if clones were ever acknowledged as people, even with his considerable power, he could be tried, and imprisoned. Alphonse Fadwah then convinced President O’Shea to sign an executive order declaring any life not ‘born of woman’ was not a person and was, in fact, property.
A new class of slaves was created, and the market for cloned body parts became the single most lucrative business in history. If you didn’t like your brown eyes, and had the wherewithal, you simply bought the most brilliant blue, or green or whatever you desired, choosing from a vast catalog.
It was possible to create clones with little brain activity, but unfortunately, they also had lesser degrees of development in all other organs, making them useless for transplant purposes. The result was that all transplant donor clones had perfectly functioning brains.
As cloning advanced, so too did genetic engineering. The manipulation of the fetus’ genetic makeup in the womb began in secret as government doctors performed routine ‘tests’. Those infants judged inferior were aborted and the mothers told their miscarriages were a tragedy. The unexplained dramatic rise in the rate of miscarriages was then used as the justification for further tests and control on pregnancy.
In 2021 any unauthorized pregnancy was declared illegal. Within the womb certain traits were encouraged while others were eliminated.
In 2024 the government-breeding program became the only legal means to have a child.
In 2025, the State took control of raising the children and parents no longer had any legal control of their offspring.
The BGP was formed in December of 2025, in a declaration that included, among other things, the banning of any form of religion.
The Hunters, as agents of the BGP, first appeared in 2030. The program had begun in secret back in 2019, as the Hunters were bred and raised to be the best that ever existed at hunting human beings. Genetically mixed to be stronger, faster, tougher, and with superior reflexes, they felt almost no pain, knew no pity, and possessed a cunning and instinct like no other. They caused the mightiest warriors and most successful hunters in history to look like inept toddlers. United States Marine Recon, Navy SEALs, British SAS, Soviet Spetsnaz, Apache warriors, Roman Legions, the Mongol hordes of Attilla the Hun, none of them ever possessed the abilities or dedication of the Hunters. Trained in all manner of armed and unarmed combat, a lone Hunter was a match for any ten of Feudal Japans’ legendary ninja with a warrior’s dedication to duty that surpassed that of the Spartans at Thermopylae.
They also learned tracking, computers, surveillance, explosives, subterfuge, torture, interrogation, hypnosis, driving, flying, sailing, and much much more. A Hunter was quite simply, the most dangerous single human being that ever lived.
Hunting outcasts was what a Hunter lived for. Officially, outcasts were labeled ‘Genetic Criminals’, they were outlaws merely by existing. In some cases they were obviously different from the ‘perfect’ society. Grotesque accidents from the lab, or experiments with crossing human and animal DNA, they did not look normal. Some possessed extra limbs, or had eyes that were strikingly similar to a cat. There were even some with gills and webbed hands and feet. In other cases, their genetic make-up was every bit as good as that of the officially sanctioned births; the difference being they were conceived without the manipulation that would ensure obedience to the State. They retained a full measure of free will, and as such were deemed a threat.
All of this passed through Matt’s mind as he finished preparations for his week of testing. He was aware that he was of this last variety. That he was the child of a genetically engineered soldier, which was essentially the same genetic stock as the Hunters, and an artist. He didn’t even know if his mother had been the soldier or the artist. He didn’t know the details of how he came to be, or how he had avoided the BGP deletion squad, whose duty was to destroy any unauthorized fetus. All he knew was that somehow the brothers of the Silent Heart Monastery, itself an illegal entity, had rescued him and were in the process of raising him. He knew they were training him in an effort to make him an equal to any Hunter, but not what they intended for him after that.
The brothers had been kind to him, and the training he was receiving could very well keep him alive in a world that desired his death, so he supposed it didn’t matter why they did it. He owed them everything.
At last he completed his packing. His supplies consisted of good warm, water resistant clothing; sturdy well insulated boots, a SOG Government Model knife, a magnesium block for starting fires, 100 ft of nylon climbing line, 10 yards of 8 lb test fishing line and 10 hooks, a sleeping bag and ground sheet, a small compass, a canteen, first aid kit, and compound bow with 10 arrows completed the list.
A soft knock announced the arrival of Brother Fidelis. “Matthew, it is time. Come with me please.”
Matt liked Brother Fidelis; the graying monk had taken the lion’s share of duties in raising Matt. He was also Matt’s teacher of literature, history, and marksmanship. The unimposing monk who spoke with such passion about men such as Tennyson and Melville was, in fact, one of the deadliest men on the planet when behind any type of projectile weapon. Matt rose and, shouldering his pack, he followed Brother Fidelis down the dimly lit corridor to the Abbot’s office.
The Abbot always intimidated Matt. A bull of a man with his gleaming, shaven pate and full black beard, he looked more the picture of a medieval blacksmith than head of an outlawed religious order in the 22st century.
When they entered his office Matt was again struck by the majesty of the view from the windows behind the huge carved mahogany desk. The
sun was shining on the snow-covered peaks, and the sky was an impossible shade of deepest blue. A blue seen only in dreams and here above 10,000 feet, high above the pollution and filth of an ultra-modern world.
“Matthew,” began the Abbot, “we here within the monastery have taken vows to our Creator, the Savior of us all. These vows include a vow of silence. I have issued a special dispensation to the brothers for the express purpose of your education. I mention this only so you will know that what we do with you, indeed what we do to you, is not something we have entered into lightly. Instead, it is only after much prayer and consideration that we have begun this task. You know that you are genetically superior to most people, even in these evil days of altering the Creator’s divine will.
“I say superior, even though we here in the order view all meddling with the perfection the Lord created as Satan’s handiwork. You know that physically you are almost a match for a soldier or indeed a Hunter. We have tried to parallel a Hunter’s training as best we could in an attempt to make you their equal, or indeed better, with some notable differences. In place of torture we taught ethics. In place of desensitizing you to others’ pain, we have tried to instill mercy and compassion. We have at times been very hard on you and demanded much of you, more than any grown man should never be required to give, much less a boy so young.
“I wish I could tell you that it was going to get easier…it is not. If you are to be equal to the task I have set before you, for I will not lay that decision at our Lords feet, I alone have conceived of your role and will be judged by the Almighty for setting you on this path, things will get much harder.
“You too, will one day answer to the Creator for your actions. I have molded you into a tool, I hope a tool of justice, but a tool is only a tool until it does the job for itself.
“Brother Fidelis will take you to the test zone and retrieve you in a week’s time. He will also review your gear according to my directions. May the Lord bless you and keep you. That will be all.”