Lind asked, “So what’s your plan when you get out there? How long will it take?”
“I don’t know how long it will take. Days, weeks—maybe even a month.”
Adrian then explained his plan to Linda. When he was done, she nodded her head and said, “It could work, Adrian, it could work. Just be as careful as you can and come back safe.” Without thinking about it, she gave him a quick hug and a quicker kiss on the lips, then turned and fled, leaving Adrian bemused.
CHAPTER 21
MARCH 30, MID DAY
BY NOON, ADRIAN HAD PLACED three of the posters. He had covered a circle halfway around Fort Brazos. The other three posters would cover the other half of the circle. That would be enough, Adrian believed. He had been moving slowly and cautiously, looking for any sign of Rex as he went. Adrian knew the area thoroughly; he already knew the spots that would most likely attract Rex. Under normal circumstances he could have placed all six posters in only a couple of hours. These weren’t normal circumstances, though. He had a cold-blooded, highly trained, highly skilled, and experienced killer with a psychotic obsession of hunting for him, and while Adrian wanted to be found, he wanted to be found on his own terms. He wanted control of the situation when they fought.
By dark, he had the six posters placed. Now it was time to start on the second phase. Adrian walked back to the battlefield where the bodies were lying. Using a flashlight, he chose a dead raider that was nearly his size and had the same color hair. It was a gruesome task he had in mind, but he would carry it through. Heaving the already deteriorating body across his shoulders, he carried it the several miles to his chosen spot. It took him until nearly midnight to reach the area he wanted. He tossed the body on the ground, and in the dark, he stripped the man’s clothes off. Adrian had left several items in that spot earlier in the day; among them were the clothes that Adrian had worn during the battle. It was a struggle dressing the body in his clothes It was disgusting work, but it had to be done.
Adrian pushed up a pile of leaves a few yards from the body and lay down exhausted; it had been a long day. He had a restless night with strange dreams of being in the future, a place where tiny robots were injected into his blood stream. These robots provided access to knowledge he had never been exposed to. When he awoke, the dream stayed with him for most of the day, the images slowly fading.
At first light, Adrian began his preparations. He placed the body facedown next to a fallen log. With his knife, he ripped the body open with long slashes, imitating the cuts that a wild boar would have made. Then he opened a gallon jar of pig blood, which was already coagulating, and splashed and spread the blood on the “wounds” he had made, as well as on the log. Using a broken tree branch, he tore up the ground around the body as though there had been a big fight. He took his battle rifle, emptied the ammo, and placed the rounds in his pocket, reinserted the magazine, and then tossed the rifle next to the body. Standing back, he viewed his work. From a few yards away, it looked exactly as he wanted it to: as though Adrian had been attacked by a wild boar and lost the fight. Adrian made a blood trail leading away from the body, imitating a wounded hog leaving the area. The blood trail gradually disappeared a hundred yards away.
Adrian had chosen this spot carefully. A place where the body would be visible from the higher ground around it.
MARCH 31, MID DAY
Adrian wanted Rex to spot the body and assume it was Adrian. He knew that Rex wouldn’t be deceived when he came close to investigate, but by then, Adrian would have him in his sights. He also knew that if Rex did spot the body from a distance, he would have to move closer to investigate. Adrian had chosen the terrain well. Rex could approach from any direction, and would move in extremely cautiously. Rex was far from a fool and would suspect a trap, but he would have to check it out.
Adrian built and set three booby-traps, one at each of the most likely approaches that he thought Rex might take. Two of them were punji pits. If Rex stepped into one of them, it wouldn’t kill him, but it would slow him down quite a bit, an advantage Adrian would like to have. Eventually, the poisoned sharpened stakes would kill Rex if he didn’t get medical treatment. Adrian didn’t have much hope for these working, but they might.
The third trap was more complex. He’d made it with one of Matt’s hog guns loaded with double ought buck shot. The double-barreled gun was secured in a horizontal position and tied down then hidden with brush artfully arranged. A trip line of monofilament fishing line was placed under tension across the path, strung out an inch above the ground and then lightly covered with leaves. If Rex took that path and either stepped on the trip line or snagged it with his foot, the trip line would pull the trigger, unleashing a barrel of buck shot down the trail. The traps also served another purpose: they were located behind Adrian’s line of sight, and if one of them worked, it would act as a signal so Adrian could then leap to the attack.
By midday, Adrian had taken up his hiding position. He had chosen a simple but daring plan. He scooped out a spot in the ground that he could lay down flat in, hiding the dirt as he worked. Adrian placed a self-inflating sleeping pad in the depression. He lay down on his belly with his rifle in position, then, using his hands and a tree branch, he covered his body with leaves that he had brought in and piled up next to his shallow trench. Adrian covered his head last, carefully placing leaves over and around his face, leaving spaces to look through. From even a half dozen steps away, he was invisible under the leaves. He had a field of fire that covered the decoy body and the surrounding fifty yards. It would be an easy shot; only seventy-five yards away, and the rifle would only have to move a few inches to cover any part of the trap radius.
MARCH 31, EVENING
Once in place, Adrian was committed to lying still for however long it took. He was well aware that he might lie there for several days and would become extremely uncomfortable. He was also aware that if he had to move suddenly, his body would be stiff and slow. The self-inflating sleeping pad under him would insulate him from the ground, helping to maintain his body temperature. The thick pile of leaves above him would not only conceal him, but also help keep him a little warmer than lying directly exposed to the cold night and morning air. He had placed a canteen of water and a drinking tube of flexible plastic tubing ran from it into his mouth. He would not be eating for the duration, but he would need to stay hydrated. He would just have to urinate in place; messy, but necessary under the circumstances. . From now until he either trapped Rex or gave up waiting, it was all about mental discipline. Not moving, not scratching, just lying completely still—it was unnatural for a human, and was difficult to do for even an hour; doing so for days would be excruciating.
Time passed slowly. Mosquitoes found his face through the leaves and bit him almost continuously. It took all of his willpower to let them feast undisturbed. Adrian marked the passing of time during the day by tracking the movement of shadows. He slept only at night, and even then only in brief snatches. He could see a portion of the sky through a gap in the trees, and watched as stars moved in and then out of the gap. He meditated often, slowing his breathing. In between meditations, starting from his toes and moving up to his face, he slowly tensed one muscle group at a time and held the tension for as long as he could, then moved on to the next muscle group. To occupy his mind, he timed how long he could maintain tension in each muscle group by silently counting off the seconds. This exercise kept his blood from pooling in his extremities without him making overt movements. He hoped it would keep him from being too stiff when the time came to move.
Adrian observed the wildlife. A possum found the body and feasted on it for an hour before wandering off. Twice he saw deer browsing. He watched squirrels by the dozen and birds by the hundreds move around the area. He listened carefully for a sudden silence of birds or a squirrel fussing or a deer snorting or stamping—signs of something or someone coming. Adrian focused his attention on sounds by mentally charting out a full circle and dividing it into quar
ters. Every five minutes or so, he would focus on the next quarter in the circle and pay attention to just that one section. It didn’t take him long to pattern out the normal sounds. He knew where several squirrels called home, where different birds had staked out their territories. He became familiar with the hunting ranges of the owls at night. Adrian absorbed all this conscientiously because his natural radar system would alert him to the presence of something or someone that didn’t belong.
Of all the challenges he faced, staying mentally alert was the hardest. It was too easy to drift off into irrelevant thought, or to focus on the discomforts of being completely still. The meditation, muscle tension exercises, shifting his focus on listening to specific quadrants, and the occasional small sip of water were the only antidotes to mental distraction. They worked to a degree, but he still had to periodically bring his mind back to a focus after it had drifted off.
Frequently, his thoughts drifted to Linda and that parting hug and kiss. The more he thought about it, the more he became convinced that the feelings he was having for her were returned. It was natural, he supposed. Both of them had lost a loved one; both of them were in the physical prime of their lives. Being pushed together during a time of extreme stress and relying on each other for survival would naturally create a bond. She was an attractive woman, and not just physically; she was full of surprises. He liked her tough mental attitude, her ability to face her fears and keep moving forward. He loved the way she spoke honestly in line with her own integrity. She was, he knew, a prime candidate for a life-mate, especially so in this dangerous post-grid world. With plenty of time to think about her and the situation they were in, he became convinced that her parting kiss had been her way of saying how she felt about him, a sign that only a fool could ignore. He thought, well, when I get back, I’ll look into that, but right now, I have to concentrate!
APRIL 1, LATE MORNING
By day two of his vigil, the decoy body had begun to swell up and smell. Adrian would catch strong whiffs of it whenever the breeze blew in his direction. Fortunately, it mostly blew away from him. A few times, the wind blew with enough strength to scatter the leaves around on the ground. Any traces of his manipulating the leaves over him had been erased by those winds. No one would be able see any difference between where he lay now and the forest floor. It had sprinkled rain twice, light rains that penetrated the leaves and soaked his clothes. He was alternately hot and cold, depending on the shadow patterns as they moved during the day. The mosquitos were still working his face over, and he knew that it would be a nasty mess, but it would heal. He couldn’t wait to scratch at least three thousand places on his body, and would as soon as he could.
Adrian could occasionally hear the hum of flies that swarmed over the body. A small hog had found the body by following the stench, and had fed on it before wandering off again. All to the good, he thought. It made the body harder to identify as not his, and would help it look as natural as it should have.
Another long night passed in short bursts of deep sleep. The dream came back each night, but it was less intense each time. Visions of future humans that acted queerly flitted through his sleep. It was an odd sort of dream that Adrian thought about a lot, but could not decipher any meaning from.
It was on the third day that something slowly crept into his awareness as he lay aching and itching. He had become intimately attuned to the sounds around him, and slowly, he became aware of a small silence in the far background as birds quieted. He focused, listening, and noted that there was a circle of silence slowly moving toward him. It was still a long way off, but there was definitely something there. It could be a pack of hogs, or coyotes, a bobcat, or a hunter. Or Rex. Adrian strained to listen. He heard a squirrel begin fussing in the silent zone. Something was definitely moving there, something the native wildlife didn’t like.
CHAPTER 22
MARCH 28, EARLY MORNING
FRANK HAD QUICKLY GATHERED NINETEEN men, and Rex moved out and around the ambush during the storm. Circling around it, he had headed toward the village only to suddenly be fired on by some kind of ordnance from well behind the ambush lines. Damn that Adrian, he thought. The bastard had left a backup group and they had spotted him and his men. Sixteen of his men were brutally mowed down. He and the other three took off running before they could be fired on again.
Once past the secondary skirmish line, Rex stopped and took stock. He knew pursuit would only be minutes behind. “Frank, take these three men and head out in any direction away from the village. You men are on your own now. I suggest you get as far away from here as you can, and if you’re smart, you’ll all go in different directions. If I see any of you again, I’ll kill you. Stay away from the village; I don’t want any interference. Now get going!”
Without a backward glance, Rex headed east as fast as he could. When he had placed enough distance between him and any pursuers, he found a pile of downed trees and crawled inside them to rest. I’ve got Adrian where I want him. He won’t stay in the village knowing I’m out here. It’s just a matter of time before I locate and capture him, and then the fun begins. Rex’s hand unconsciously stroked his “Adrian Bag” while he hid. He remained there a full twenty-four hours, resting up, thinking and planning.
When he was ready to move, he crawled out of the blow down and carefully looked around. Opening his bag, he removed the crossbow and began assembling it. “Adrian is in for a big surprise, and not a happy one,” he said out loud. Then he began laughing.
CHAPTER 23
APRIL 2, EARLY AFTERNOON
WHATEVER WAS MOVING TOWARD HIM was moving slowly. Adrian listened and waited. It could be Rex. It was moving slower than he would expect a hog or coyote to move. It was moving with such slowness that it was clear that it was trying to be stealthy. Sweat ran down his mosquito bite-ravaged face, setting up a fierce itching sensation. He carefully drew in a full mouthful of water and slowly swallowed it, then another one. Hunger had initially bothered him, but had receded to a dull sensation. He flexed and released all the muscle groups over and over. He wanted as much blood flow as possible, but he was careful to not move even a tiny bit otherwise.
The silent area was at the edge of his vision when he saw Rex—or part of Rex. He was moving with extreme care and slowness. When Rex reached the point where he could see the decoy body, he stopped. Rex didn’t move for over an hour, only turning his head slowly to scan around him. Twice, he looked directly to where Adrian lay, but displayed no sign of alarm or interest in the area. He was not in a spot where Adrian could move to shoot him without giving himself away too soon. Adrian was no longer aware of the itching or thirst or anything else. He was completely focused on Rex, and Rex was alone.
Rex stayed still for so long that the birds and squirrels had lost interest and had gone back to their normal movements and sounds. Rex began to move again, this time even more slowly than before. As he gradually came into full view, Adrian was surprised to see that Rex was carrying a crossbow, his rifle slung over his shoulder. Ever so slowly, Rex moved to a new position where he could see the body more clearly, but still he did not move into Adrian’s target area. He was within range, but wasn’t positioned at a good angle.
Rex stopped and pulled out a pair of binoculars and studied the body for a solid fifteen minutes without moving. Then he began to move back again, to Adrian’s right and further away. Rex disappeared. Adrian didn’t know if he had figured out it wasn’t his body or not. With the leaves strewn across it, the damage done by the hog, and the flesh swelling up, Adrian knew it would be damned hard for Rex to be certain. He hoped he wouldn’t leave the area without giving Adrian a shot.
Adrian closed his eyes and concentrated on listening again. He wondered why Rex would use a crossbow. It didn’t have the range of a rifle, and once the shooting started, noise would no longer matter. Rex would only get one shot with it, then he would either have to take the time to reload, or take off back into the woods and get his rifle off his back and i
nto position. It didn’t make sense. Giving up trying to decipher Rex’s thinking, Adrian listened and waited. Patience, he kept thinking, I’ll probably only get one clear shot. Patience, patience; make that one shot count.
APRIL 2, MID AFTERNOON
Rex was moving so slowly that it was difficult to tell where he was. There was a sudden flutter of wings, and the sounds of a squirrel running through the leaves and scurrying up a tree trunk gave Adrian a fairly precise idea of where Rex was. Adrian listened, catching an occasional clue. Rex was getting closer to Adrian, coming up behind him. Knowing the terrain, Adrian guessed where Rex was moving to for a different view of the body. Rex smelled a trap, no doubt of that. Adrian had known he would, but then again, it was just barely possible enough that it was Adrian’s body down there that Rex would have to take the time to thoroughly check it out—he couldn’t afford not to. Even if Rex moved away, Adrian would find him. He would slowly rise up from his position and become the hunter, and Rex the hunted. It would end this day, one way or another. Adrian was satisfied his trap had performed its function, even if Rex left the area without giving Adrian a shot.
Rex was moving closer again, toward the body. He was definitely angling for a better look. Adrian waited, and waited, and still had to wait. Slowly, parts of Rex became visible again to Adrian’s extreme right field of view. There was a break in the brush that Rex was headed for. It would be a spot where Adrian could take a shot, but he would have to rise up while twisting to get into alignment first. If Rex reached that spot and began backing away again, Adrian knew he would have take his best shot. He would have to move extremely fast, risking that his muscles weren’t too tight. He would have less than a second to move and fire.
Extremely slowly, Rex moved to the notch in the brush. He was extraordinarily cautious, slowly rotating his head from side to side, looking at everything with focus. He was clearly suspicious of a trap, but wasn’t sure of it. He reached the spot. Taking his binoculars out again in super slow motion, he studied the body. Adrian noticed a very slight tensing of Rex’s body. He knew this meant he had decided it wasn’t Adrian down there. If he had thought it was Adrian, he wouldn’t have tensed that little bit. Rex now knew it was a trap, and began moving back again. He was forty yards away. Adrian tensed all his muscles at the same time, relaxed them, and then rose up as quickly as he could to his knees while twisting his torso to bring the rifle to bear. His body screamed in protest, his muscles nearly locking up completely. Rex immediately saw him and twisted toward him, bringing up the crossbow at the same time Adrian brought up the rifle. They both fired at the same time.
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