The Hunted

by Steve Scheunemann

  Matt’s ability to defeat him really meant very little in the larger scheme of things. The best fighter was not by any means automatically the best leader. In fact, it was often not so. That did not matter. If Matt could not make Hank submit he would lose the team’s heart. Even a win by knocking his opponent unconscious would not do it. It would grant him the victory in the sparring match, but to win the team over he needed them all. To win over Hank, he had to make him admit his defeat. He had to do it in such a way as to preserve Hank’s image, but he had to be defeated soundly and made to yield.

  Matt would have to make sure the fight lasted long enough for Hank to look good. He was not entirely sure he could do that and not actually lose. Every one of these people was deadly dangerous. Making Hank look good was not enough though. Hank couldn’t know and in the end he had to be convinced he was overmatched and call “uncle.”

  Unlike with Dex, Matt chose to attack this time. He moved so fast he seemed to blur. He connected with a solid blow to Hank’s face, flattening his nose. The crack of the breaking bone could clearly be heard. Hank stepped back a pace and smiled. He calmly reached up and with no change in expression he slowly pushed his nose back into alignment. They could all hear the grinding noise as bone fragments moved against each other.

  “Not bad, but then we already knew you were pretty good. Take more’n that to end this thing though.”

  Without another word Hank began his attack, striking for Matt’s head. Matt almost dodged the blow. Glancing though it was, his head rang from the force. It opened a cut above his left eye causing blood to flow into the eye, making it hard to see as he continually tried to blink it away.

  For awhile they seemed to trade blows, with both of them landing some telling ones, but neither getting through with one that could end the fight.

  Matt had thought he could take a few shots and then end the fight without causing any damage to Hank. He knew he’d landed good solid blows on pressure points and nerve junctions that should have had the big man writhing on the floor. He’d tried a few submission holds, putting him in arm bars and wrist locks to no apparent effect. Hank simply would not submit to pain. He’d heard it, but hadn’t really believed it until now. There was nothing on the line, no mission that required him to endure the pain in order to accomplish something. Hank just seemed not to feel pain.

  The same could not be said of Matt. He’d barely managed to break Hank Posterelli’s grip twice. Had Hank been able to fully lock his arm, Matt would have most likely suffered a dislocated shoulder. Hank would not ease off unless Matt gave in. He had begun to realize that even if he dislocated Hank’s arm, the man would fight on. He was some kind of implacable juggernaut.

  To beat him, Matt was going to have to damage him. He’d also come to believe that Hank’s ego was a lot tougher than he’d thought. Matt realized his plan to make Hank look good had been a waste of time. No man could be as physically tough as Hank was and not also be emotionally and mentally resilient as well.

  So, time to get serious then. He’d have to convince Hank that he was so much better that there was nothing but pain ahead if Hank continued. That there was no way Hank could possibly win.

  Hank came for him, and in a move so fluid and graceful that those watching could not quite follow it, Matt seemed to flow aside and with a short kick to the side he snapped Hank’s knee sideways.

  Falling to the floor, Hank quickly got back up. It was obvious his left leg would not support him, but he rose anyway, keeping his weight on the right.

  “It ain’t over yet, pretty boy. Takes more’n that to end this.”

  Hank waited for the attack to come to him this time. Nodding his respect to the man, Matt moved in. Hank tried to block, but instead of hitting him, Matt grabbed the blocking arm, and rolling him over his hip, Matt threw him hard to the floor. Once again the man seemed to bounce back to his feet. It was only when he loosened his belt using only his right hand, then tucked his left wrist behind the belt, did the others realize that the arm had been dislocated at the shoulder. Hank had never made a sound. He’d simply discovered the arm would not work for him, so he’d tucked it out of his way.

  With both the left knee and shoulder dislocated any other man would call “uncle” and end it, but Hank was still not convinced. The dislocated joints could be reset and aside from some lingering pain, which he apparently didn’t feel anyway, Hank would be good as new. It should be over. He had to know he could not win.

  “Come on Ace, I already told you it would take more than a broken bone to make me quit, an you ain’t broke even one yet besides the nose and that don’t count fer shit.”

  “Hank, I don’t want to. You’re too good a man to break. I can break the body, but I can’t break the man. Let’s end this now, why don’t we?”

  “Nope. You’re prob’ly right. I ‘spect you are anyway, but I gotta see it through.”

  “Damn Hank, I do believe you are the toughest man that ever walked the earth.”

  Hank just grinned while Matt paused to catch his breath. He could tear the man down, but why?

  “Uncle. You win, Hank. “

  “No damn way. We all know who won this one, and it weren’t me. I’ll follow ya. You showed me you’re the best I ever fought. I always thought that was Kit, but,” he glanced over at the small woman, “no offense Kit, but he’s better. Lots better.”

  “Hank,” the small deadly woman said, “we all can see that. You’re just a little retarded so it takes you awhile to catch on.”

  “Yeah, I guess so. I better go get the doc to reset these,” he nodded first at his shoulder then lifted the leg.

  Without asking for help, or uttering so much as a grunt of pain, Hank limped out of the room, and turned left to the doc’s office.

  Later, in the small apartment they’d been assigned, Abbey asked the questions that had been bothering her since Matt’s match with Hank.

  “Why did you take on Dex first? He’s not the toughest of them. Sure he’s the strongest, but all the files indicate that Kitara is the most dangerous and you didn’t even fight her.”

  “I challenged Dex first because he has been the leader of the team for awhile now. I needed to beat him to symbolically take over the pack. They are like wolves in all the best ways, deadly dangerous by themselves, but together, far more than the sum of their parts. Dex has been the pack leader. He knew it was a temporary assignment all along, but he needed to know that I could take him. He’ll still have questions about how well I can lead, but not about my abilities in a fight.”

  “Okay, I can see that, but why did you let Hank win? Did you know he would not accept the victory, since you had obviously beaten him?”

  “Well, I took a chance. It’s possible that he would have seen it as weakness, not physical, but a lack of determination, that I’m not mentally tough enough to do what it takes to finish the job.

  “I bet, correctly as it turns out, that he was also smart enough to recognize that I had him beat, and respected the fact that he would not quit. I recognized that there is no quit in him, that he will go as far as he has to to get the job done, or die trying. I also guessed his pride would not let him accept a victory he had not earned, that by handing it to him, he’d have to give it back. Hank and I understand each other now.”

  “So now you still have to take on Kit and Calvin.”

  “Nope, just Calvin.”

  “Matt, I think you have to beat Kit. She’s the most dangerous of them and if you don’t they’ll always wonder.”

  “Oh I’ll spar with her plenty over the next few weeks, some of it will be deadly earnest, but the first run at her is yours.”

  “What?”

  “Abbey, I may have earned my place in the wolf pack…hmmm, let’s make that name official. I may have earned my place in the Wolf Pack, but you haven’t. None of them have ever beaten Kit. There is a power in being the first. If I beat her, you are just the second to do it. If you do it first they will never doubt that you belo
ng.”

  “But what if I don’t beat her? She’s good Matt, as good as I am, maybe as good as you are.”

  “Abbey, it’s not life or death, okay?”

  Matt moved around behind her and began to rub her shoulders as she sat on the couch, kneading as she rolled her head around and softly moaned in pleasure.

  “We’re just trying to earn our place in the Pack. Take her if you can. Win or lose, you’ll put up one hell of a fight and everyone will see that you belong in the Pack.”

  “Okay. Since you are the one who was fighting today, you get the rub down,” Abbey was smiling mischievously.”Full body rub down, and if you think Dex and Hank wore you out, just wait until I have my way with you.”

  After Matt lay across the bed, stripped to his boxers, Abbey straddled him and began to slowly give him a deep tissue massage. Starting with all the major muscles in his back, she worked all the knots out, then in ever softening moves, slipped from a therapeutic massage into a sensual one. First she had worked the tension from him, then relaxed him to the point of almost sleep, finally she began to slowly build the sensations in his body.

  When he was forced to shift himself because of pressure underneath, Abbey knew his desire was mounting, but she was not yet done. Slowly she lowered her head and softly kissed the back of his neck, then breathed one hot breath softly into his ear.

  Matt began shivering when Abbey’s tongue darted in and out of his ear, her silky smooth hair caressing his skin. He felt her breasts pressed against his back and only then realized that at some point she had shed her top.

  Matt had never known that sex could be this good, and they hadn’t even gotten to the actual sex part yet. He realized that it was more than the physical sensations. It was the love and trust he felt for Abbey, more than that, was the knowledge that this amazing woman, who was so strong, so beautiful, and so amazingly competent at so many things, was devoted at this point in time to nothing beyond his pleasure. Good sex, he realized, was as much mental as physical, and even more emotional than either mental or physical.

  All the beauty in the world, all the technique ever known, only got better when there was also love. Of course, given that he did love Abbey, then adding in the fact that she was the most beautiful woman he had ever seen, and that she knew just about all there was to know about the physical parts of sex, meant that Matt was no longer capable of coherent thought.

  47

  July 3, 2080

  Christchurch, New Zealand

  They had been at it for almost an hour. Abbey and Kitara fought back and forth across the dojo floor. Normally combat at this level ended much sooner. When two combatants were as deadly as these two one missed block, one blow that finally lands can end the fight.

  Kit was beginning to get frustrated. She’d never relied on her gift of dropping from her opponent’s awareness before. She knew it happened, but she usually beat the others simply by being better than they were. If they were particularly well matched, as she and Calvin were, then sometimes the extra edge helped. They simply became ‘unaware’ of her for a moment. She didn’t control it, but she could spot it in her opponents. Their eyes stopped tracking her, and they showed, however briefly, a moment’s panic as they realized they had no clue where she was. She’d seen the look in Abbey’s eyes several times, but every time it happened, the Hunter managed to evade her anyway. The first time she simply dropped to the floor and swept with her legs. Despite her obviously not knowing where Kit was she’d almost taken her down. Only a quick dancing step back saved Kit from being upended. By the time she moved in again, the Hunter had her in her sights once again.

  Anticipating the same move the next time it happened, Kit leaped in the air and readied a strike that never landed. This time the other woman, did a back flip away and once again reacquired Kit’s location. Each time it happened the Hunter used a different means of escape. Kit had begun to think her ability had failed her, but she had finally come to the conclusion that, after reading her file and learning about her ability, the Hunter had simply decided that evasion was in order whenever she lost sight of Kit.

  She was using random evasion techniques each time she lost Kit. Sooner or later they would collide. She’d choose a technique that put her exactly where Kit was and then one or the other of them would come out ahead. None of the others had ever been able to react fast enough to try this method. They lost her, and the fight was over. The Hunter seemed to be able to marry thought to action. It was as if she had zero reaction time. She acted instantly. That should not be possible, but in this group that word was meaningless.

  Kit had watched Matt fight Dex the day before and wondered if she could take him. She’d watched him fight Hank and grudgingly decided probably not. He was more than just good, he was so much better than either Hank or Dex that she’d decided he could have taken Hank and Dex together rather than separately. She was damn glad he was on their side. Mentally she had reordered the prowess of the team. No longer was she the deadliest member of the group. She had struggled with that overnight, but she was a realist. She was now the second best on the team. Denying it wouldn’t change it.

  Now she was being forced to reevaluate her relative ranking once again. She was not ready to admit that the Hunter was better than she was yet, but she no longer dismissed her as merely being good enough to join the group. For Kit, leadership was about just how good at mayhem you were. She truly appreciated the ‘Wolf Pack’ metaphor for the group. She believed in the whole dominance game as practiced by wolves. Every pack had an Alpha, but they also had Betas, Gammas etc. Each pack member knew his place within that hierarchy.

  Kit had been Beta to Dex’s Alpha, and could accept that based on his inhuman strength. Even if she believed she was more dangerous than he, she knew if he ever landed a blow or got a hold on you it was over. His prodigious strength, coupled with abilities nearly as advanced as her own, gave him status in her eyes.

  When Matt took over, she’d realized that Dex was now beta, and subsequently she had slid a little as every pack member adjusted downward to make room at the top for Matt. Now she wondered how the newest member of the pack would change things. Would the two of them continue to vie for the number three spot? Kit had already decided that Abbey was more deadly than Hank or Calvin. Like Kit herself, she could probably take Dex seven times out of ten, but could never begin to approach his strength. Dex was number two for more reasons than his strength and fighting ability, Kit knew, but for her that was the reason she could accept him. She’d never been good at taking direction from either Hank or Calvin, because she could so easily beat either of them.

  Realizing her thoughts were wandering she refocused on her opponent. Watching for the moment when the Hunter lost her awareness of Kit.

  There it was! Abbey’s eyes lost their focus on Kit despite the fact that Kit was squarely in front of her.

  Slipping to the left Kit delivered a vicious elbow to Abbey’s temple. At least that was her intention. The Hunter seemed to anticipate the move and stepped to her own right delivering a spinning back fist that connected squarely with Kit’s temple. The irony of their both choosing the same target was lost on Kit as she went limply to the mat.

  As she attempted to regain her feet she felt a feather soft blow to her throat delivered by the panting, sweating Hunter’s stiffened fingers.

  “Damn, number four.” She muttered to herself as she grabbed Abbey’s extended hand and let the larger woman pull her to her feet.

  After defeating Kit, Abbey, breathing hard from the hour long fight, motioned for Calvin to step onto the mat.

  “Don’t you want to rest first?” the small man asked.

  “A Hunter, if you could convince one you were dangerous, would never give you the chance to catch your breath. Since we are training to fight Hunters, we should train harder than they do. In training I once had to fight six opponents, one after another, with each jumping in as soon as the previous one was down. I know you guys have done lots of mu
ltiple-opponent stuff, but the back to back stuff is, in some ways, more difficult. The sudden shift in size and style of combat, can throw you off.

  “If I could survive it, I’d fight each of you in turn, without rest. The problem is you four are as good as just about any Hunter I’ve ever seen. I was at the top of my class, and Matt had Malone, who is the best the Hunters have, beaten before I distracted him. In our fights with you guys, well in my fight with Kit anyway, I had to work harder than I ever have before.

  “In the end I beat her with dumb luck. Look, each of us has a ‘gift.’ Don’t for a moment think that it does not occur among Hunters too. In my case, it’s reaction time. I’m not as fast as you are, Calvin. I can’t disappear like Kit, Dex is an empath, Hank does not feel pain, and Matt senses imminent danger. I have a gift that almost negates Kit’s. Matt’s I think would too. Any of ours might if used properly. The point is,” she now turned her attention to Kit, who like the rest of the team had been listening, “Kit, I react instantly. I think you figured it out near the end.”

  “Yeah, I did.”

  “And once you did you were devising ways to beat me anyway, right?”

  “Of course.”

  “Of course. I lost track of you just like everyone else does. In a straight up fight without either of our gifts operating, I think you’d beat me. Yours is a sometime thing, and you cannot control it. Mine is always on. I have virtually no delay between comprehension and action. Whenever I lost track of you, I instantly evaded. The problem was, I knew you were gone before you did, and by the time you did, I was already evading. You had no clue which way I’d go. It must have been worse than when I could see you. At least then I’d make sensible moves. It took an hour and by my count fourteen times you dropped off my radar, before I got lucky and landed a totally random blow. It could as easily have gone the other way, and I would have been the one on the mat. Your gift is the most dramatic, but the hardest to control. If only you could do it at will, you’d be unbeatable, instead of only damn near unbeatable.”