The Hunter

by Kurt Robinson

  One Escalade began backing up fast but started to slide because of the snow, which had gotten deeper and was falling heavier now. The other one had no driver now, so Mr. Mob Guy jumped out, his female companion staying in the back seat, and got in the front seat as quickly as he could. He slammed on the gas and backed up as fast as he could, but it began to slide as well.

  Cavanah looked up, saw them, and said, “Fuck! Don’t let ‘em leave! Open fire!”

  Cavanah, Levinson, Travers, and Lewis all stood up and began walking and firing at the Escalades as they tried to back up. The one with Mr. Mob Guy in it spun around to the left with the driver’s side facing toward the warehouse. The other one turned and slid to the left, nearly out of sight, behind the wall on the left side of the warehouse. All four of them continued to fire at the vehicles. Sparks flew, holes appeared, and the side windows were shattered. They were all now running toward the entrance of the long warehouse.

  Mr. Mob Guy reached back, grabbed the back of his blonde friend’s head, and shoved her down as they both ducked to dodge the barrage of bullets. He turned the wheel to the right and gave it gas. At the same time, he grabbed his pistol, a Matte Blue Beretta 92 Centennial 9mm, out of his shoulder holster, bullets flying by his head and pieces of glass falling on him and stuck it out the window. He fired aimlessly as they all scattered except Lewis, who laid down flat on his stomach. Bullets hit the concrete in front of him and the cars behind him but he did not flinch. As the Escalade began turning to the right, it exposed the left front tire as a prefect target. Lewis aimed his M4 Carbine and, as soon the Escalade picked up speed, fired.

  He hit the tire, which burst and caused the wheels to jerk to the left as the tire rolled loosely on the rim, throwing snow up in every direction. The gas was still pressed, but once the tire was shot, Mr. Mob Guy stopped firing and tried to regain control. The snow was too much for him as the vehicle slammed into the corner of the warehouse, on the right side, and out of sight, but they saw the dent it made in the metal from inside the building.

  “Shit! We gotta get them before they run away!” Levinson yelled as he began to move forward.

  “Wait!” Lewis yelled as the second Escalade came back into complete view. The front window was down on the driver’s side and it had a UMP45 sticking out of it.

  “Fuck!” Levinson yelled as he ran over to the left side of the large sliding door with his back up against the steel wall. The henchman behind the wheel began firing as he slowly gave it gas, just enough to gain traction. Lewis got up quickly and ran to the right side of the building, where the henchman couldn’t see him or fire at him. Cavanah was there as well, making his way toward the front of the warehouse. Travers scrambled to hide behind a steel support beam on the left side of the room.

  The Escalade then sped up as the driver continued to fire toward and into the warehouse. Levinson stuck his shotgun out from behind the steel wall and then his head, just enough to aim, and began firing. Cavanah did the same with his as he came out from behind the steel wall and sliding door. They each fired and then pumped another round into the chamber. Lewis then joined in as did Travers. The vehicle was taking tremendous damage as bullets penetrated it and glass shattered. The henchman was still firing as he tried to turn the wheel to head out on the driveway, but the snow was slowing him down. The vehicle was sliding. The henchman in the passenger seat turned around and began firing his UMP45 out the back windshield.

  Travers and Lewis centered their fire near the driver’s window. The henchman tried to duck while still firing as bullets now concentrated on him, but the windshield took most of the damage. Cavanah and Levinson tried to center their fire on the wheels and tires, but they were too far away to get an accurate shot with the shotguns. They ceased fire.

  Lewis and Travers stepped forward and fired non-stop. The henchman couldn’t see so he tried to lift his head up. Travers knelt down and put in another magazine. Lewis, however, was still firing and stepped closer again, but still in the warehouse. The henchman had stopped firing and was concentrating on driving now; the other continued to fire but couldn’t aim because of the sliding vehicle and enemy bullets. He pressed his foot down and sat up to see. He was then hit in the left shoulder and blood sprayed on the dashboard and windshield. Bullets still poured in and caught him in the back of the head and in the upper back, the ones that went through the seat. The windshield and dashboard were now being sprayed with blood as his body bounced up and down from the impact of the bullets. His foot pressed down on the gas and his head fell down and bobbled up and down as the vehicle sped forward and finally slammed into a tree. The other henchman was flung forward and thrown through the windshield. He rolled over the hood, hit the tree with his head, and landed hard on the ground.

  “Cease fire, cease fire!” Cavanah yelled. “You got ‘em! Now, get them, come on, this way.” He said as he pointed toward the other Escalade.

  Levinson stepped outside from cover and saw the Escalade with smoke pouring out from under the hood. Travers followed out with Cavanah. Lewis began walking as he hit the magazine release and slid another one in, then held his M4 up toward the Escalade. Cavanah pointed to Levinson and Lewis to move forward to the left side of the crashed vehicle. He and Travers began moving through the snow to the right side.

  Snow was falling heavy now. They slid their feet through the snow slowly as more landed on their shoulders and heads. It would melt as soon as it made contact with one of the guns barrels. Their breathing was fast and heavy, which caused their chest to hurt from cold air.

  Levinson and Lewis moved closer, getting a better view, but they couldn’t see anybody. Cavanah and Travers finally moved enough to where they saw that the front passenger side door was open. Cavanah picked up speed and moved on around looking inside the vehicle, couldn’t see anyone, but noticed the briefcase full of cocaine was gone. He walked closer, through the thick falling snow, and saw two sets of footprints leading away into the woods.

  “Shit! They got away! Took the cocaine with them! We got to find them before they find somebody!” Cavanah said.

  “Fuckin’ right!” Lewis said.

  “Get inside, check your ammo, and search for them! Shouldn’t be that hard, just follow the foot prints.” Cavanah said, then turned, and began walking back to the warehouse. Travers stood there dumbfounded for a second as Cavanah walked past him, then followed.

  “Cavanah, wait!” Travers said as he began trampling through the snow to follow Cavanah inside the warehouse. Lewis followed and then Levinson with the briefcase.

  “Are you sure we need to go after them?”

  “Of course we do, what the hell are you talking about?”

  “Well, I mean who are they gonna go to? He’s probably wanted in half a dozen countries and she probably won’t make it ten minutes with that dress and heels on and freezing out there.”

  “You want to let them go after this!?” Cavanah said as he stopped and pointed to the cars with the dead bodies around them on the now blood-stained concrete. "After they just fucked us over and killed our friends!? Not just friends but police officers, whose families and wives we have to tell are now dead!? They got the coke too! No, I…we are going to hunt them down and then I will kill them myself! Is that clear!?" He asked the rhetorical question as he leaned in close to Travers’ face with his shotgun clenched tight in his right hand pointed toward the ground.

  "Yeah," Travers said hesitantly.

  "Good," Cavanah then walked away as Levinson and Lewis made their way toward the cars.

  "Shouldn't we call-" Travers started but was quickly interrupted.

  "NO! We don't tell him a fucking thing until we find them and this mess is resolved! He'll find out soon enough because he is gonna help clean this shit up because this was his party! A party that he didn't even show up to! I don't care if we don't find this bastard and his little whore until tomorrow! We're not calling him until then!" He finished and then walked to the cars.

  "Well what ab
out-"

  "Jesus Christ! Shut the fuck up and get ready to go! Or I’ll shoot you myself!" He walked over to the trunk of the car that had the ammo. "Alright, everybody grab ammo, jackets out of the cars out back if you brought one, if you didn't you're fucked, gloves, hats, whatever! Just grab something to stay warm, we're going huntin’!" Lewis and Levinson began to run toward the back of the warehouse to go outside where the other cars were parked. "Everyone except you, Lewis! I need you to stay here!"

  "What!? The fuck for!?"

  "One, because I said so," he said as he pumped a new round into the shotgun after reloading it. "And two, you need to stay here and keep an eye on things and start cleaning up. Levinson! Get my jacket and gloves out of my car!" He yelled at Levinson, who stopped for a brief second and then continued running.

  "But, nobody's gonna find this place way out here." Lewis said.

  "Maybe, but we can't take that chance," Cavanah told him as he walked toward him. "I need you to see if you can get those vehicles inside here, out of sight. If they won't start, see if you can get them going somehow. If you can't then wait for us and start cleaning up in here. Do whatever you can, I don't care, just start. Don't leave here either, if we don't get back until tomorrow morning or something I still expect you to be here, sleep in the cars if you have to if you get tired!" He told him as he turned and walked back to the cars where Travers' head was stuck in.

  "This fuckin' sucks!" Lewis yelled.

  "Travers, you find your coat?" Cavanah asked as he ignored Lewis' outburst.

  "Yeah," Travers said with his head in the car riddled with bullet holes. He got out and held up a dark blue jacket with a couple bullet holes in the center of the back. "But, it didn't make it!"

  "Well, it'll do, at least you weren't in it!" Cavanah said as he walked up to him.

  "Yeah!" Travers said as he put the coat on.

  "Aw shit! I hope the flashlights made it!" Cavanah said as he went to the trunk of the car with the blood-stained spot from the henchman whose head slammed into it. He opened the trunk and looked in it. "Well, two made it, that's good. Here!" He handed Travers a flashlight and he kept the other.

  Levinson opened the small door in the back of the warehouse and came back in. He was wearing a black coat with a black sock hat and he was carrying a thick red coat. He brought it over to Cavanah. He put it on, pulled black gloves out of the front pockets and put them on. Travers walked around to the other car, grabbed a couple magazines for his M4, and put them in his front pockets. Levinson put extra shotgun shells in his.

  "Alright, you all ready? You got ammo and your side arm?" Cavanah asked and they acknowledged. "Okay, it shouldn't take long, it's snowing and there are tracks out there, plus she's in fuckin’ heels and they have no idea where they're going. We find them; we bring them back here and kill them, unless we have to do it out there. Then we clean this shit up and not until then do we call the boss man and tell him what a great fuckin’ job he did! Let's go!" Cavanah, Levinson, and Travers made their way outside, with their weapons at the ready and flashlights showing them the way. The snow was coming down thick and fast now. Lewis stayed behind and watched them leave.

  Three

  Friday - 10:55 P.M.

  John Watkins opened the garage door to their home that sat between Frankfort and Georgetown, and turned on the light. It took them longer to get home than usual because of the snow. Adam and Sarah lived just a couple more miles down the road. With his salary at Toyota, John and April were able to buy property and build their own house two years ago. It was a beautiful two-story brick home with a three-car garage and a finished basement with media room. It had a large kitchen with an island where April liked to cook. A large living room, office, and master bedroom accompanied the kitchen on the first floor with several closets, while two other bedrooms and their bathrooms completed the second floor. The garage was big enough to hold his truck, her car, his four-wheeler, and a large lawnmower to mow their massive yard. An in-ground pool sat out back with a large concrete patio that stretched from the pool to the house finished their dream setup.

  The wind was blowing the falling snow so hard that their garage now had a thin layer on the floor before they could get the truck in and close the garage door. The drive on their two-lane country road had been a cautious one, the snow stuck to the road and it had gotten slick. They got out of the truck, stomped their feet on the rug to get the snow off, and opened the door that went into the house. Their dog, a white and gray Siberian Husky, Derby, made his way over to them from the living room. April leaned down to pet him as John took his jacket off and hung it on the coat rack attached to the wall in the entryway; April did the same as John began petting Derby.

  "I hope Adam can get here in the morning!" April said as she walked down the hallway into the kitchen, turning on the lights.

  "Me too! It's getting pretty bad out there! Come on, boy!" John said to the dog as he patted his leg and walked toward the kitchen with Derby behind him. “I hope they get home in a few minutes. I sent him a text to tell us when they got home.”

  “Good, I’ll text Sarah too, since she’s not driving,” April said as she opened the stainless-steel refrigerator to put in her leftovers. She then took her phone out of her purse and sent the text.

  “Good idea. I’m gonna get my stuff ready for tomorrow,” John said.

  “Okay, babe. I’ll be on the couch,” April told him as she walked to the living room, with Derby behind her, sat on the couch, and turned on the TV. Derby jumped on the couch and lay down with his head on her lap.

  John Watkins began gathering everything he would need to go hunting with tomorrow. He went back down the entryway that led to the garage and opened a door to the left that contained a long walk-in coat closet. It was big enough for all of their winter clothes. He kept his hunter orange coveralls and thick coat in the back, along with his camouflage shirts and thick jackets. As he reached the section with his hunting jackets, he heard April yell that Adam and Sarah had made it home. He responded with, “Okay, good.”

  He grabbed the orange overalls and thick jacket, an orange hat that sat on a shelf above the jackets, camo shirt, and his hunting boots, which were kept in a long wooden bench under the jackets that doubled as a storage unit. He carried it all out in one trip to a recliner in the living room, where he put on all his thicker clothing after he put on his jeans and shirt in the bedroom.

  Next, John went downstairs, walked past the media room and opened a door that led to another finished room that they used for storage. He kept his large black marble gun safe that he had built into the wall in the room. It could hold thirty rifles with space to store ten handguns on top and several shelves on the right side for ammunition and other gun supplies. The safe could also stand up to twelve-hundred degrees Fahrenheit for one hour if the house ever caught on fire. It was a very durable safe that John had always wanted and was thrilled when they were able to afford one built into the wall with their new house.

  He entered the combination on the digital keypad, spun the dial, and pulled the door open revealing his gun collection. He had a .30-06 Weatherby Vanguard Synthetic with a blasted black matte finish. It had the smoothest bolt action on the market. The scope was a Leupold VX-I Rifle Scope 3-9x50mm, also black matte finish. This was his hunting rifle. The rifle held five rounds in the hinged floorplate magazine, plus one in the chamber. He pulled it out, opened the bolt to make sure it was unloaded, and then grabbed .30-06 rounds from his ammo box on the shelf. He loaded in the five, slid the bolt forward slightly, put in one more in the chamber, and closed the bolt. After turning the safety on, he leaned it up against the wall.

  That rifle was not the only rifle he had in the safe; he also had a camouflage Remington Model 700 Ultimate Muzzleloader, a Ruger AR-556 Semiautomatic Tactical Rifle with a red dot sight, a matte black IMI Tavor XB95 5.56 x 45mm Nato Semiautomatic Tactical Rifle with red dot sight, a Sig Sauer SSG 3000 .308 Matte Black with pistol grip and attached drop down bipo
d, a matte black Ruger M77 Hawkeye Tactical Bolt Action .223, a classic Cimarron 1878 Coach Gun Double-Barrel 12 Gauge Shotgun with a three-inch chamber, double triggers, and exposed hammers on a walnut stock with a standard blue finish, and finally a matte black Benelli Super Nova Pump-Action 12 Gauge Shotgun. The man had loved rifles and shotguns all his life. Some he had for hunting and some he had for fun. However, his safe did not stop there.

  His safe also had several pistols sitting up on the top shelf; a Para Ordnance Custom 1911 Double-Stack .45 ACP stainless steel sat to the far left and was his primary sidearm that he took with him when he went hunting. He pulled it out and checked the 14-round magazine already inside it. It was loaded and ready to go, so he grabbed its holster from one of the shelves on the lower right and slid the weapon in it. He then grabbed two more magazines for it and set them on the ground next to his rifle. The other pistols housed in the safe were a Glock 17 Gen4 9mm, Smith & Wesson .357 Magnum Revolver, Smith & Wesson .38 Special Snub-nose Revolver, Ruger SR22 matte black 22LR, and a Ruger LCP .380 Auto Pocket Pistol. John Watkins was ready for any event that might occur in the United States.

  After he sat down his pistol, he grabbed two ammo pouches for the .30-06 rounds that he wore on his belt. They held ten rounds each, giving him a total of twenty-six rounds for his rifle. Next, he grabbed a Nylon double magazine pouch for his Para Ordnance magazines that he also slid on his belt. Finally, he picked up his Gerber Myth Fixed Blade Pro Knife with a gut hook on the end to skin the deer after he shot it. He tested the sharpness by running it across his hairy arm. It wasn’t taking off much hair, so he grabbed his portable Spyderco Sharomaker Sharpener and put the correct stone in the slot. He ran the knife across the triangular fine grit diamond stone a few times and then ran the knife on the hair on his arm once more. This time it took the hair clean off. Satisfied, he took apart the sharpener and put the stone back in its corresponding slot. He grabbed the belt sheath for his knife and slid the knife in it, and then the small Nylon bag for his knife sharpener so he could take it with him.