Jackson paused, then looked across the one hundred yards that separated him from victory—and one hundred grand. Back in his playing days, he could run the hundred-yard dash in twelve seconds. Now, it’d probably take him fifteen. He wondered how fast Amy could run.
“All right,” he said, turning to Dirk. “Start swinging around behind her. I’ll wait a few minutes, then charge her.”
Dirk eyed him cautiously, surprised that he suddenly agreed with his plan. Then he nodded and got up in a half-crouch and began to move north. Jackson let him get about ten yards away before he raised his net gun at Dirk’s retreating back and fired. The net gun made a “whoomp” as it exploded from the gun.
The net puffed out just as Dirk turned back toward him, his eyes wide and uncomprehending. The net wrapped around him and dropped him to the ground. In an instant, Jackson, threw away his weapon and was up and running full-tilt toward the startled woman.
Amy and Jake heard the sound of the gun and turned in time to see the black man bursting from the undergrowth, running right at them. Amy screamed and started to run.
“Shoot him!” Jake shouted, seeing at once that Jackson didn’t have his gun.
Amy was in full panic mode, her legs churning as she ran past Jake toward the southwest, trying to put some distance between her and the hunter.
Jake’s shout caused her to look over her shoulder. She watched as Jake threw himself in the path of the charging Mr. Black. The action startled the big man. He tried to sidestep him, but his aging muscles failed him and they collided. Both men went down in a heap.
Jackson jumped up, enraged at the interference, conveniently forgetting that he had just cheated Dirk out of his chance. He grabbed Jake by the neck and hauled him to his feet, the hunt forgotten for a moment. “You mother-fucker!” he screamed, his face a mask of hatred. He drew back his hand and punched Jake hard in the jaw. The man went down.
Jackson reached down and hauled Jake up again when he heard a “plop” sound and felt something slap him between the shoulder blades. A wetness ran down, mixing with his sweat.
“You’re out, asshole. Now leave him alone.” He dropped Jake, and turned to see Amy standing there with her paintgun raised. He looked over his shoulder at the bright purple paint dripping down his broad back.
“Maybe I’ll just take my prize anyway, bitch,” he said, still seething.
“Run, Amy!” Jake shouted from the ground and grabbed Jackson around the legs.
She turned and ran, completely on adrenaline, her fear driving her on. Jake’s gun banged painfully into her back. Amy knew she was abandoning Jake to an uncertain fate, but she couldn’t stay there with that madman Mr. Black. Heck with the hunt—she was now in fear for her life.
Chapter Twenty
Back at the lodge, Bollinger sat bolt upright when the new images appeared on the screens. It was one thing to watch Jake and Amy making some kind of deal, but when Jackson ran up and collided with Jake, then began punching him, he had to stop them.
He ran out and jumped into his cart and sped off toward the grid where the men were fighting. He caught a brief glimpse of Amy running south, crying, about two hundred yards away. Bollinger jerked the wheel as he dodged trees, trying to get to the two men before one was seriously hurt. Unconsciously, his right hand dropped down to touch his pistol.
When Jake grabbed Jackson and hung on, he knew he was in for a beating from the stronger man. Still, he had to give Amy at least a little head start. Jackson struggled violently and he fell down next to Jake. He managed to free one leg and kicked at Jake’s head, causing him to release his grip.
Jake groaned and rolled away, feeling a lump form on his forehead. He looked up in time to see Jackson spring to his feet and turn south.
Before he could take a step, however, a blur appeared over Jake’s head and tackled Jackson, knocking him back to the ground. It’s Dirk! Jake realized. Both men writhed around on the ground. Jake scooted away, listening to their curses.
“You bastard! You cheated! You were waiting for that all day!”
“You started it, you pussy! I had her the other day and you shot me!”
“It was an accident!”
“Bullshit! You don’t expect me to believe that!”
Both men struggled to their feet and began swinging wildly at each other. Jackson was more powerful, but Dirk had a few tricks of his own. He stepped inside of Jackson’s punches and grabbed him. In seconds, they had fallen down again, legs and arms pinwheeling.
Jake, shaking his head, crawled away, then got up and began slowly jogging south, trying to follow Amy’s path.
When Bollinger pulled up a few minutes later, he found the two naked hunters grappling on the ground. Sighing, he pulled out his pistol and fired a round into the air. “You’re supposed to be fucking the girl, not each other,” he said dryly.
Both men stopped and separated, looking up sheepishly at the referee, then down at their nakedness. They had exhausted themselves in the heat and Bollinger’s words brought them back to reality.
“I’m lodging a protest!” Dirk said as he struggled to his feet. “This man turned his net gun on me!”
“You shot me first the other day! Be a man and admit it!” Jackson said.
Dirk couldn’t admit it, not even to himself. He started to speak, then snapped his mouth closed.
“I knew it, you fucking cheater! When it happens to you, you don’t like it much, do you?”
Dirk didn’t say anything. He was too embarrassed to speak. His eyes slid around, unwilling to catch the eyes of either man.
“Well, you gentlemen can protest all you want, but that won’t change the winner-takes-all nature of this hunt,” Bollinger said. “It appears you are out, Mr. Black. But you, Mr. Red, are untouched. Unless you want to quit and return with me to file your ‘protest,’ I suggest you keep playing.”
Dirk realized he had wasted a lot of time. “Yeah,” he said, and turned to retrieve his weapon and his goggles, which had fallen off in the struggle. Without another word, he jogged south, after Amy.
“I want to protest Jake—Mr. Green,” Jackson said, unwilling to accept that he had been eliminated. “He knocked me down, just as I was about to capture the girl. I think they made some kind of deal.”
“Yes, I saw that on the video.” Bollinger didn’t tell him that wasn’t all he observed. “But you guys made up these new rules. And there’s nothing in there that says the prey can’t make a deal with a hunter, repugnant as it may be. Now if you’d all agreed to stick to my rules, this never would have happened.”
“Ahh, fuck you,” Jackson said, walking past him toward the lodge, knowing that further argument would be futile. Twice in two hunts he had been in position to win, only to be thwarted by cheaters.
“Want a ride?”
“No, I’d rather walk.”
Bollinger watched as the big man strode away into the bushes.
Chapter Twenty-One
Just one man to go, Amy thought as she jogged slowly past the lodge. It was hard to get back into the game after her passionate encounter with Jake. Juices flowed freely down the insides of her legs. Sweat was burning her eyes and sheeting off her naked body, but she kept up a steady pace. She had to find Mr. Blue before he could spot her.
She figured he would be near the safety booth, waiting for her. She hoped to sneak up behind him and put him out of business before he could shoot her.
Amy slowed as she neared the southern boundary. She stopped, placing her hands on her knees for a few minutes, trying to retain her breath. Finally, she was able to move again. She walked west. The booth had to be here somewhere.
At a large oak tree near the fence, she paused, then looked up into the branches. If she could spot the booth, she’d have a better idea of where Mr. Blue might be hiding, she decided. Carefully, she crept up into the tree, higher and higher.
Amy came to a gap in the branches that faced west and peered through. She wasn’t sure, but there appeare
d to be a splash of color among the other trees about three hundred yards ahead. Satisfied, she came down, then began circling to the northwest, trying to get behind Mr. Blue.
Jake was beat. Like Amy, he thought only Steve remained. He didn’t feel a bit guilty about interfering with Jackson because it had been instinctive when he saw him running at Amy. He felt protective of her. He hated the idea of another man touching her.
But now all he could do was wait. And hope he would be nearby if she faltered, so he could be there first.
Behind him by a good mile came Dirk, hot, dusty, embarrassed—and determined to win. This hunt had been his idea and he nearly blew it, fighting with Jackson. He had to admit that Jackson was right—he had cheated. He supposed he’d had it coming.
Though he was nearly out of the hunt, he could still win it—if he hurried. He picked up his pace.
Amy crouched down, debating. Should I try to find Mr. Blue or wait for Jake? He might be able to distract the man with the tranquilizer gun long enough for her to get into the booth.
She decided not to wait. It was too risky. Let’s get this over with. She crept forward, scanning the bushes for Mr. Blue. Amy kept circling, knowing that Mr. Blue had to be around here somewhere. Where else would he be? Even if he had gone north, he would’ve turned around as soon as he heard the shots. No, he had to be lying in wait.
Steve, his muscles aching from his half-crouch, remained hidden in an ideal blind with bushes on three sides. He planned to wait until he heard the girl approach, then jump out and dart her. A buzzing in his ear distracted him. Unconsciously, he slapped it away.
Amy, her ears alert, heard the slap of fingers on flesh. There! She spotted a heavy growth of bushes and made a wide berth around it, so she could creep up behind him, Indian style.
Amy eased Jake’s bolo gun off her shoulder. She hooked the strap of the paint gun around her neck so it hung between her breasts down to her stomach. The strap tickled her nipples. She wanted the bolo because it had a longer range. Mr. Blue wouldn’t be expecting it.
She eased forward. She knew she had to get Mr. Blue out away from the bushes or the bolo would have no effect. Thinking quickly, she came up with a plan.
She crept up to within fifty yards of the hidden man—just about the range she’d need. Then, drawing in a deep breath, Amy tucked the bolo gun behind her left leg and began jogging through the bushes, making as much noise as possible and headed at an angle away from his position.
Steve was startled to hear the girl coming from almost directly behind him. He broke free of his hiding place and aimed, anticipating an easy strike. He was shocked when she ducked and whirled suddenly, brought up a bolo gun and fired back at him. He heard a whirling sound and saw the balls hurtling toward him.
Where did she get that gun!?
He tried to jump out of the way, but the strings yanked his feet together and dropped him to the ground.
The girl shouted with glee, dropped the gun and started to run. With his legs caught, Steve had just one chance to slow her down before she was out of range. From his prone position, he brought the gun around, aimed at her retreating back and pulled the trigger.
The dart hit one of the perfect globes of her ass. He silently cheered and quickly began to extricate himself from the bolo. He still had a chance!
Amy felt the dart strike her and cursed. How could he shoot me so easily? Immediately, she brushed it away, but the damage had been done. The drug swept into her bloodstream. Her legs slowed, her limbs became uncoordinated.
Amy stumbled for the booth. It was about seventy-five yards away. She could feel victory in her grasp, if she could just fight off the effects of the dart for a few more minutes.
She slipped to one knee, then forced herself to get up. She tried to remember what Mr. White had said about the darts—they were meant to slow you down, not to knock you out. The effects lasted just a half-hour or so. She willed herself to go on.
“Go for it, Amy!” She heard a voice and knew it was Jake. She waved and staggered on.
Jake watched his girl from a distance, wishing he could help her to the booth. She deserved the money. He thought she would make it and was startled to see a blur jog past him. Dirk!
“Too bad you lost your little gun,” he said as he ran past.
Jake stood there stupidly. He thought the man was out of the game. “Amy! Look out!” he shouted, as Dirk quickly closed the gap. He ran to catch up.
Amy turned again, her eyes wide. No! Not Mr. Red! She could see his large cock twitch in anticipation of her capture. Her arms and legs were like rubber. She couldn’t escape as Dirk fired his bolo at her legs. In seconds, she found herself on the ground.
“I got you this time!” he shouted.
Jake felt helpless. Dirk was well ahead of him, and he’d promised Amy he’d get there first. He ran faster, trying to think of some way to stop him. Preferably without cheating so Dirk wouldn’t have grounds to call for another match.
Amy, lying on the ground on her back, forced her thick fingers around the butt of her paint gun. She waited for Mr. Red to approach.
Dirk was being careful this time. He remembered her bashing him with a rock. But she looked out of it now. He eased forward.
When she saw him swim into her vision, she used the last of her strength to bring up the gun and fire—one, two, three, four, five.
Dirk jerked back, startled by the sudden onslaught. Dammit! The paint gun was my idea too! He cursed himself for being careless, so late in the game. He dodged left, then right, backing up to get away from the paintballs. He backed right into Jake, who wasn’t expecting Dirk’s actions.
“Hey!”
Splat! An orange paintball splattered over Dirk’s left arm.
“You’re out,” Amy breathed. She rolled over and began crawling toward the booth, the paint gun still dangling from her neck.
“You interfered with me!” Dirk bellowed. “I had her!”
“Oh, shut up.” Jake rolled his eyes. “You ran into me. It’s over,” he panted. “She’s won.”
“Not quite,” came a voice from behind them. Both men turned to see Steve, pulling the last of his cords from around his legs and getting to his feet. “As you gentlemen can see, I’m unmarked.” He jogged toward the crawling form, ready to claim his prize.
“Amy!”
“Shut up! You can’t help her. That’s cheating,” Dirk said.
Jake dove forward ahead of Steve and managed to get his hand on her bare leg. “I claim you!” he shouted.
Steve jumped at nearly the same time and grabbed her thigh. “No, I claim her! I shot her, I’ve won!”
“You’re all bastards,” Amy said and passed out.
Chapter Twenty-Two
Three dejected men sat in Bollinger’s office, watching a replay of the videos. The fourth was smiling. Amy, now recovered, sat off to one side, sipping a mineral water. Everyone was dressed.
“Want to see it again?” Bollinger asked. The cameras on Jake’s and Steve’s hats recorded a jumpy blur, but the camera on Dirk’s head clearly showed Jake had reached the girl a second before Steve did.
“No, I’ve seen enough,” Steve said. “But the game was rigged. Those two made a deal—you saw it.”
“As I told Mr. Black here, under the rules you made up, there was no prohibition against a ‘deal.’ That was spelled out in the original contract, you see. Perhaps if we had stuck to those rules…”
“Aww, can it,” Dirk said. Turning to Amy, he asked, “So how much did you agree to give him? Twenty percent?”
Amy colored slightly. She wasn’t about to tell them what really had gone on. “No, nothing was said about money,” she said truthfully. In fact, not much was said at all.
“Well, are you going to fuck her or what?” Jackson asked Jake.
Both Jake and Steve had tried to claim Amy, delaying any resolution of the hunt until Bollinger showed up to take control of the situation. Jake was not about to rape her in the dirt in f
ront of the other men and he certainly wouldn’t do it now, after their intimate encounter. He felt protective of her.
“No. Not right now. I’m out of the mood.” Actually, I feel pretty good!
The other men snorted in disgust. They had expected to see a good fucking. Jake’s response proved to them a deal had been made. Still, there was little they could do about it. For the first time, they regretted not sticking to the original rules. Had Jake passed, Steve would be next in line, followed by Dirk and Jackson.
Jackson suddenly snapped his fingers. “Wait a minute. I claim the booby prize.”
All eyes swiveled towards him. “Remember the contract? The first one knocked out gets to shave her. Well, I claim that right.”
Amy shook her head. “Oh, no. Not after all this. The moment’s passed, bucko.”
Bollinger fished the contract out of the desk and began reading. “ ‘The first hunter eliminated reserves the right to take the prey’s pelt after the winner enjoys his sexual prize.’ It’s pretty clear, Amy.”
“It says ‘after’ the winner claims his prize. I haven’t claimed it yet,” Jake lied.
“You gave her a pass. So I claim my rights,” Jackson said.
“He has a point, Mr. Green,” Bollinger said.
“All right. I’m not giving her a pass. But I’m not taking it now, either.”
“You can’t do that! Either put up or shut up!” Jackson retorted.
“He’s right!” Dirk put in. He was surprised to find himself on Jackson’s side after the bitterness between them. Maybe he was making up for that first dart in the back. Jackson gave him a wide-eyed look.
“Yeah, I agree—and it was my idea,” pointed out Steve. Hell, if I can’t do it myself, at least I can watch.
Jake looked around the group, trying to think of a way out of this. Nothing came to mind. The moment stretched out. Eyes slid over toward Amy.
“All right,” Amy sighed. “You can have your jollies, Mr. Black. Just don’t you dare cut me.”
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