The Hunted

by Steve Scheunemann

  Even if he hadn’t loved her he had no right to subject her to the kind of danger he represented, but given how he felt about her he could not leave her wondering.

  Matt knew and recognized that he’d run a terrible risk in telling her the things he had. Any citizen had a duty to report him to the local office of the BGP as soon as they discovered him, and, if in fact she was a Hunter, she obviously had to kill him on the spot. Some things still didn’t add up about her story, but at least he felt certain she was no Hunter. Something about her still felt vaguely dangerous, but more immediate was the feeling that he could not breathe when he was away from her, and the feeling that he could not breathe when he was near her. He was confused and he knew it. His heart raced and felt like it would beat clean out of his chest. When he was close to her his lips quivered with the desire to taste hers. His need to hold her became so strong he did not know how he managed to stop things earlier. How much was hormones and how much was something more he did not know. He only wished he could be with her forever. He would gladly have given up his plans if he could somehow have remained safe with her forever. After she had kissed him he’d entertained thoughts of doing just that, but the reality of their situation was that he was living under a death sentence. Anyone who loved him would share that fate. The irony of the situation was not lost on him. He’d met a woman who made him wish to give up his vengeance and found he could not have her lest she suffer the vengeance of the system he’d sworn vengeance on. In the final analysis it only made his anger burn hotter than ever. If he could not spend his life with this woman he would tear down the system that kept him from her. The woman who inspired his most tender feelings also inspired his most violent feelings, albeit with a different target.

  These thoughts occupied Matt’s mind as the silent priority message signal in his PDT activated, causing it to pulse a triple beat against his side.

  13

  May 14, 2080

  Tokyo, Asian Territory

  Angus knew he was a dead man. He’d walked into the hotel lobby; his mind preoccupied with thoughts of the danger Matt faced, and blundered straight into Malone.

  “Well, if it isn’t my old friend Angus” said Malone rising to his feet and placing his glass on the table beside the wing backed chair he’d been seated in.

  “Where’s your friend? Off with my friend perhaps?” Malone held up his PDT , “This is primed to send the termination order direct to her PDT. If you try to escape I press ‘send’. If, on the other hand, you fight me, I wait until after you’re dead to send the order. Who knows, he may not be with her by then. Of course, I’ll just hunt him down too; it is, after all, what I do. By the way, the jamming field is active in case you had any idea of sending him a warning. In fact, any PDT without a BGP override code has been shut off from transmitting messages for the past thirty minutes.

  Gesturing for Angus to precede him, Malone chuckled as he said, “Hell, lightning may strike and you might even beat me.”

  Those few guests in the hotels gym quickly vacated the area at the sight of Malone’s BGP credentials.

  “I’m really gonna enjoy this. I want you to know that when I’m done I’m gonna kill your protégé too. I may take my time with him and see how long he can scream”, he whispered as he pulled a long, wickedly sharp knife from where it rode in a sheath between Malone’s shoulder blades, concealed by his jacket.

  Angus caught the knife as it was tossed to him, refusing once again to speak to his enemy. He was much calmer than he would have expected for a man about to die as horrible a death as his opponent could devise. He had no illusions that he could defeat Malone, but he was much better than he’d been the last time Malone had him in his sights. If he could hurt Malone badly enough it just might give Matt a chance. His first message to Matt had gone out before the BGP had shut down the broadcast net. So he would never come near the hotel. He’d make every attempt to lose the girl as he tried to keep her safe, and go to the designated rendezvous spot near the shore. The extraction team had that location, too, and it would pick Matt up. Without Angus to explain things it would be a little confused but Jane would be there and the general’s clone was the only person alive with more field experience than Angus. She ought to be able to convince him of her bona fides. If Jane couldn’t convince him, Mary most certainly could. No one could be in her presence and doubt her intentions; hers was the most peaceful soul Angus had ever encountered.

  Angus banished these thoughts from his mind as he prepared to accomplish all he could before he died. He’d decided from the start that he could not afford defense. He’d go for an all out attack, but he had to attack smart if he had any hope of inflicting noticeable damage.

  There was an expression he’d learned when he took up sword work in order to spar with weapons against Matt. ‘Sheathing the sword’ meant that sometimes when taking out your opponent was more important than survival you had to offer him a stroke that would finish you off, if by doing so, you could deal a death blow in turn. It specifically referred to trapping your enemies’ blade by allowing him to get it stuck in your own body. Malone had no blade but the principal remained.

  “Angus, it’s been a long time. I owe you. The bureau does not tolerate failure, and you’re the only one who got away. It was on my watch. Do you have any idea how much crap I’ve had to take for that over the years?

  “You are the best your side has to offer. It’s just too damn bad for you that what you’re the best at is running and hiding.

  “The midget says your friend is more dangerous than you are, but I figure with you dead he’ll be easy. I may even let the girl have him. Wouldn’t that be sweet, killed by his ladylove?”

  Malone began to circle as he talked, fingers flexing on both hands as he prepared to play with Angus like a cat with a mouse.

  “Once you are gone I’ll get the promotions I’ve been denied and when I have my own sector I’ll start rooting out all of your other friends.

  “Yeah, I know all about your other friends. I haven’t been able to convince my superiors of all I know, but when I have the resources of a Sector Chief at my disposal, I’ll expose your pathetic ‘Resistance’ and we’ll really clean out the scum. ‘Course you won’t be around to see it.”

  Angus said nothing as he held the knife loose in his right hand, the blade held along his forearm with the pommel protruding from his fist by his thumb. Only a complete novice held a knife as if it were a sword. The tactics of knife fighting were very different from those used with a longer blade. A sword extended the reach and allowed you to keep a distance from your opponent. With a knife you had to get in close, inside your enemies’ defenses. In where it was kill or be killed.

  Angus kept his eyes from focusing on any single part of Malone, rather watching all of him at once. Some schools of thought said you should watch your opponent’s hands, others his eyes, and still others his feet. Angus knew that when you faced someone as deadly as Malone, focusing on one was bound to get you killed. He’d never give anything away with his eyes, and if Angus watched his hands he’d attack with feet, and vice versa.

  Malone, on the other hand, kept staring into Angus’ eyes as he taunted him. Perhaps, just perhaps, Malone underestimated him. Even if Malone had grossly underestimated Angus he held a comfortable margin of victory.

  Suddenly, Angus’ fist lashed out, blade swiping out to the side in an attempt to slice through Malone’s throat. Malone moved with blinding speed and Angus’ blade met only empty air. The same could not be said for his head as Malone’s elbow drove into his temple with a force that momentarily left Angus stunned. It could have ended right there. He was defenseless for a full two seconds. Time enough for Malone to deliver the deathblow, but it was withheld. Malone wanted this to last.

  Realizing his opponent would leave him hurt but operational for as long as he desired to drag this out lent Angus a reckless kind of courage. He’d already accepted his own death and was looking to offense instead of defense, but now he rea
lized he could abandon any attempt to protect himself. He’d get hurt, but not incapacitated.

  A slow smile spread across his lips as he realized something else. Malone was way faster than he had any hope of being, but Matt was faster still.

  Matt read and understood the message, “Let’s have dinner at the hotel restaurant. Reservations are for 6:15. Come as you are.” He knew his emotions were out of kilter from the potion that enabled him to use the PDT. He also knew he should do as their standing plans called for and head for the rendezvous. He’d experienced the heights of love and, despite the fact that he’d managed to stop it from preceding further, the most intense passion of his young life in that single aborted kiss. Followed quickly by a burning anger at the unfair world and a need to lash out that he’d never felt before.

  He’d planned to start his offensive against the BGP soon anyway, so he decided it might as well be here. The code phrase Angus had sent “6:15” indicated that there was a single Hunter inbound. The first digit after the colon told Matt how many, and the statement “Come as you are” told Matt to watch his back. If the message had included the name of a restaurant it would have indicated that the danger was posed by an entire BGP react team. The uniformed arm of the BGP was actually trained with the military, but as a squad armed with Packwoods they were devastating against unarmed civilians, as they were usually employed.

  With only one Hunter, Matt could only assume it was Malone; Angus was just likely to try and lead him away from Matt. Matt wasn’t sure why, but it had long since become apparent that Angus considered Matt’s life more valuable than his own. There had been too many tough escapes over the last several years when Angus had risked himself to ensure Matt’s escape.

  This time would be different. Matt knew his violently whipsawing emotions were impairing his judgment, but at the moment he could not bring himself to care.

  First he had to safely get rid of Abbey. Then the Hunter would become the Hunted.

  “Abbey, I’ve got to take care of something. Can I meet you in the hotel’s club for some dancing at, say, 8:00?”

  “Sure Matt”, she responded hesitantly. “You’re okay aren’t you?”

  “Yeah, I just…if I don’t make it it’s only because I couldn’t, not because I didn’t want to. I’ve never had a day like this before and I just want to thank you for…well for everything” Matt said leaving as much unsaid as said.

  Suddenly she stepped into his arms and kissed him deeply “See ya” she smiled up at him and dashed away, thinking that just as earlier, she actually enjoyed kissing Matt. Oh, how she hated life’s cruel turns.

  Angus had been battling Malone for several minutes and had not managed to land a single solid blow. He’d managed to collect a spectacular collection of bruises and his left eye was swollen shut. Added to a broken nose and two missing teeth, he seemed to be in remarkably good shape.

  Malone seemed frustrated that he’d been unable to wrest the knife away from Angus at will.

  Angus had heard stories of the practice of Hunters taking a knife away from a deserting soldier only to return it. Usually by sticking it into the unlucky soldier somewhere not too vital.

  While Angus had not managed to score with the knife, neither had he lost it.

  “You’ve gotten better Angus, much better. Not good enough, but better. Time to die,” Malone taunted and his hands flashed forward in an attempt to crush Angus’ larynx.

  Angus saw it coming and realized his opportunity had come to ‘sheath the sword.’ Not bothering to block or dodge Malone’s strike Angus stepped into it and drove the knife between Malone’s ribs.

  As Angus fell to the floor choking slowly to death he saw Malone grunt and pull the knife from his side. Angus felt despair as he realized he’d missed anything vital. The way Hunter’s pain receptors handled injury, he probably hadn’t even impaired the bastard appreciably.

  Kneeling over Angus, Malone wiped his blood off on Angus’ cheek in an almost caress of the dying man’s face.

  “You came close. Closer than anyone ever has before, including a couple of Hunters who got in my way, but in the end you die like the rest.”

  Malone held his PDT before Angus’ eyes and the last thing that he saw before the darkness overtook him was Malone pressing the ‘send’ button.

  Abbey’s PDT vibrated with an incoming priority message. Malone was on the island, and he’d just transmitted the order for her to kill Matt. He still didn’t know anything about Matt except that he’d been Angus’ companion. The display on her PDT suddenly became fuzzy and indistinct and Abbey wiped the tears from her eyes as she replaced her PDT at her waist and went to do what was required of her.

  Matt checked his room, and finding all of their things still there, albeit packed and ready to go; he knew Malone had gotten there before Angus had been able to get clear of the hotel.

  That meant the dojo. Matt had heard many times how Hunters enjoyed taking out deserters. Angus was very good, but was he good enough to take on the best the Hunters had to offer? Matt left for the dojo at a dead run.

  As he ran through the hotel dodging other guests Matt’s mind raced. He knew how dangerous Malone was and had no intention of getting himself killed. He really only needed to get Angus out alive. Killing the Hunter would be a bonus but his first priority was to save the man who was more than merely his friend. The man who had become his brother.

  Moving swiftly but silently Matt approached the entry to the dojo.

  “You came close. Closer than anyone ever has before, including a couple of Hunters who got in my way, but in the end you die like the rest.”

  Matt saw Malone standing over Angus’ unmoving form. All the strategies and tactics he’d been considering fled. He knew only the desperate need to deny what he saw and to destroy its cause.

  Matt did not scream his anguish out loud, he simply raced across the dojo floor, his need to rent and tear singing in his blood. Despite Matt’s silent progress, Malone sensed him coming at the last second. What should have been a killing blow to the temple became instead a glancing blow to the Hunter’s jaw.

  Moving to create some distance between, them Malone chuckled.“So boy, you come for me. Well, that makes things simpler. I was going to let your girlfriend kill you; you did know she was one of us didn’t you? Well, as I said, this is simpler.”

  “You’re lying, you bastard.”

  “No. No I’m not. You see, Abbey is a Hunter, or will be anyway, as soon as she makes her first kill. I thought I might allow her to have you since she’d obviously had her suspicions about you, Gene Trash.”

  Matt felt his heart turn to stone in his chest, as his worst fears were confirmed. Angus lay dead on the floor just a few feet away and the man who’d killed him was standing in front of him.

  “I see you believe me now. Good, it’s always more fun to destroy the mind before you destroy the body. Your mentor lies dead at my feet, the woman you love is revealed as one of your greatest enemies,” Malone chuckled. “This is better than I could have dreamed.” Malone laughed out loud this time. I suppose you think you learned well from Angus? Well, Angus was good, very good, but you see where that got him.”

  “Angus didn’t teach me, I taught him. I taught him a lot, but not everything,” Matt launched into an attack against Malone. Hands and feet lashed out, blows were blocked, and others landed.

  Elbows smacked flesh, fists and feet struck out time and again. They battled back and forth across the gym, neither gaining the upper hand. Matt realized that the Hunter was far better than anyone else he’d ever faced before. Matt knew that he had a chance to defeat the man he faced, but he knew too that it could as easily go the other way.

  Malone for his part was still battling with the shock of finding that this boy was better than the man he’d already defeated. He’d assumed the midget had lied or simply not known better when he’d said that the boy would be able to defeat a Hunter. Now he knew different. He knew he could defeat this boy, but it burned
like acid in his stomach, the realization that he’d need an edge to do it.

  Malone backed away to create some space between them and quickly retrieved the knife he had arrogantly provided to Angus. No longer taunting, instead grimly determined to wipe the existence of the only man who’d ever caused him to doubt his superiority from the face of the earth, Malone closed in once again.

  Matt saw the blood on Malone’s side as he scooped up the knife. He cursed himself for a fool for not seeing it before. Angus had not gone down easy. There was blood on the knife in Malone’s hand too. So Angus had scored at least one good blow.

  As Malone’s knife descended from above, Matt blocked the wrist of his knife hand and struck a blow to the Hunter’s ribs over the wound his friend had inflicted. Malone didn’t so much as grunt, in fact, he gave no indication whatsoever that he even felt the blow. Matt, however, could see the blood stain begin to widen.

  As dangerous as Malone had been unarmed, he was more so now. Matt needed to find a weapon of his own. The Hunter was too good for Matt to attempt to disarm him. He’d have to find a weapon that neutralized the advantage of the knife. He wouldn’t find anything with the kind of razor keen edge that the knife had. Instead, he would go for reach.

  Retreating as he fended off blows and dodged cuts, Matt backed to the weights at the far end of the gym. Against the wall was a rack of barbells. The bar used to put weights on for bench press and other such exercises weighed forty-five pounds empty. Matt knew it was far from an ideal weapon. Too heavy to move quickly, it would quickly wear him out. Matt knew he would have to be careful; any block or blow from the weight bar could not be redirected quickly. He would have to keep it in close to his body in order to retain control. This would eliminate much of the advantage he would otherwise have gained by the bar’s longer reach. As heavy as the bar was, any blow from it would be devastating. Whirling the bar in front of him, Matt closed with Malone once more.