Town at the Edge of Darkness

by Brett Battles

  Rosario lay the unconscious kid next to the first one. Like his friend, this one had a pistol and computer tablet. Before Ricky left, she’d given him the other guy’s weapon. She took this one and continued her pursuit.

  The six-man hunting team was now down to four.

  An outcropping of rock blocked their path, forcing Mr. Reed to lead the others down the slope a bit to move around it.

  As they hiked back to the summit, he glanced over his shoulder. Mr. Wise was right behind him. The man was the closest thing Mr. Reed had to a competitor. Mr. Reed, however, had no intention of letting Mr. Wise claim the ultimate prize.

  A dozen feet behind Mr. Wise came the opportunist Mr. Welles. While the man wasn’t even close to being in the same league as Mr. Reed and Mr. Wise, the bastard could get lucky.

  The observers were apparently much farther back, as none of them had come around the low end of the outcropping yet.

  A crunch.

  Mr. Reed whipped his head back around. It had sounded like something pushing down on pine needles, just on the other side of the rocks.

  Crouching, he quietly approached the ridge. The rock face directly in front of him was too steep to climb, but a little farther on, the surface was broken into a dozen smaller chunks he could use to scale the formation.

  He ascended to right below the top, then raised his head to peek down the other side.

  Rosario stood with her back against a tree, as if she were part of the pine itself. The last of the three younger men had finally noticed his friends were missing.

  He paused near the low end of the rocky spur the hunters had just gone around, looking back the way he’d come. For a moment, he seemed torn on which way to go, but his concern about his buddies won the day.

  He hiked right by her position, not even glancing at the tree, allowing her to easily slip in behind him and smash him on the side of his head with her pistol.

  Three down. Three remaining.

  Another crunch. This time from the woods just beyond where the rocks ended.

  Mr. Reed brought his crossbow around and looked through the scope. Someone was there, hidden by the trees.

  His gut tingled in excitement. This was it, the moment of closing in that would culminate in the bagging of his trophy.

  Mr. Wise crept up beside him and peeked over the rocks. “Where?” he whispered.

  “Not sure,” Mr. Reed told him. “Might have been an animal.”

  “They’re all animals, aren’t they?”

  “True.”

  Mr. Reed looked down the ridge for a good place to make a quiet descent. A fissure between boulders about ten feet to the right looked to be the best choice. He wished he could take it without Mr. Wise following, but that wasn’t going to happen.

  It looked like winning would come down to who was the better shot. Which, of course, he was.

  He moved sideways across the rocks to the fissure, and slipped into it without raising his head above the ridge.

  Mr. Wise stayed right behind him.

  Mr. Welles waited at the bottom of the rocks, while the other two hunters climbed to the top and look over. No reason to waste energy.

  When the two men moved sideways and disappeared into a crack, however, he knew it was time to get going.

  He started scaling the rocks.

  Mr. Reed reached the bottom and slowly stepped out of the fissure.

  The trees where the noise had come from were about ten yards away. All was quiet now, which made him think the prey was hunkered down, hiding.

  He pulled his crossbow up again, holding it rib high so he could get off a quick bolt if necessary, or raise it to his shoulder for a more accurate shot if he had the time.

  As he stepped toward the trees, he heard Mr. Wise exiting the fissure behind him.

  Another step, then—

  “Drop the bows, boys.”

  Both Mr. Reed and Mr. Wise jerked in surprise and turned to the voice.

  One of the prey stood behind them, shielded by a chest-high slab of rock. The big guy. The ultimate prize.

  At the same moment Mr. Reed saw Mr. Wise adjust the aim of his crossbow, he realized the prey was holding a pistol.

  A gunshot echoed off the rocks before Mr. Wise could let his bolt fly. The man dropped to the ground, a bullet hole in the center of his forehead. Mr. Reed stared, wondering how in God’s name the prey had obtained a weapon.

  “I did warn him,” the prey said. “Are you going to try to shoot me, too?”

  If Mr. Reed pulled his trigger now, the bolt would slam harmlessly into the rock. But if he tried to readjust, he’d suffer the same fate as Mr. Wise.

  What he needed to do was buy time until Mr. Welles and the observers could do something. The gunshot would have alerted them, and Mr. Reed was sure they were getting into positions to take out the prey.

  “I believe I said drop it,” the prey said.

  Mr. Reed lowered the bow and let it gently fall to prevent any major damage. He’d need the weapon again soon enough.

  “Take three steps back,” the prey said.

  After Mr. Reed did as asked, the prey came around the rock and picked up the crossbow.

  “This is sweet,” the man said as he examined the weapon. He set his pistol on a rock surface and pointed the crossbow at Mr. Reed. “So tell me, how does this feel?”

  Mr. Reed took a breath. Where the hell is everyone?

  “Not too good, does it?” the prey said.

  Mr. Reed shook his head, shooting a sideways glance at the rocks.

  “Bad news, my friend,” the prey said. “Your hunting partners aren’t going to rescue you.”

  Though the big man didn’t look like he was bluffing, he had to be. The two women he’d been with couldn’t have taken out the other four on Mr. Reed’s team. That idea was ludicrous.

  “I have to say I admire that you came after me, with my ranking as most difficult.” The prey grinned. “Clearly it was well deserved, wouldn’t you say?”

  “I am just a guest here,” Mr. Reed said. “I-I-I did not realize when I came what was going to happen.”

  “Oooh.” The prey winced. “Really? You’re going straight for the blame-others defense? That’s pretty crappy. And to be honest, makes me hate you just a little more.”

  Mr. Reed heard a scrape in the rocks behind him.

  Finally! With renewed hope, he said, “No, no. I was not going to shoot you. I was going to stop the others from doing so.”

  “You’re saying you would have shot your friend there and not me?”

  A step this time. Definitely a step.

  Trying to keep the smile off his face, Mr. Reed said, “Yes, exactly.”

  “Now that is funny.”

  Mr. Welles had pulled himself up to the crack and started to lower himself inside when he heard the gunshot. He paused, surprised.

  Though Mr. Reed and Mr. Wise were carrying pistols, they had both made clear their weapons of choice were their crossbows. Obviously one of them decided to use the easier weapon.

  But as Mr. Welles took his first step down, he heard someone say, “Are you going to try to shoot me, too?”

  The voice did not belong to Mr. Reed or Mr. Wise.

  Mr. Welles stretched forward and sneaked a peek around the edge of the fissure and down into the area below. A man he was pretty sure was Mr. Reed was standing still. It took a moment before Mr. Welles noticed Mr. Wise lying on the ground, his crossbow beside him.

  “I believe I said drop it.”

  Mr. Welles followed the sound of the voice and spotted the large prey, half hidden by a rock, pointing a pistol at Mr. Reed.

  Mr. Welles pulled back inside the crack. The prey was armed?

  Oh, shit. Oh, shit. Oh, shit.

  Mr. Welles knew he could get a shot off if he propped his back against the side of the crack, but was less confident about his ability to hit the mark. The way he figured it, his shot would miss, the prey would kill Mr. Reed, and then come after him.


  Nope. This is not what I paid for.

  The observers should take care of this, not him.

  He climbed back up the crack and pulled himself onto the rock on the other side.

  “Hello.”

  He leaped backward at the sound of the woman’s voice. An unfortunate reaction, considering his location. Right before he tumbled down the side, he caught sight of her. It was the small prey, the Hispanic, crouching next to the crack. He’d hoped she’d be his trophy.

  As he fell, she waved.

  The first few hits against the rock broke his arm and at least two ribs. Then, three-quarters of the way down, his head slammed into the surface, not quite blacking out the world but close.

  It was his neck breaking when he reached the bottom that accomplished that mission.

  Ricky had heard the sounds behind the hunter, too. He had also seen Rosario stick her head out from the break in the rocks and give him a thumbs-up.

  The hunter clearly was expecting reinforcements. Ricky let him live in his delusion for a few moments longer. “So, how were you going to explain killing your friends and not us? I mean, I gotta think the assholes who run this place probably wouldn’t have liked that.”

  “It-it-it does not matter. It would have been the correct thing to do.”

  Rosario eased out from the fault.

  “If that’s so, you are way more noble than I gave you credit for,” Ricky said.

  The hunter attempted to look self-effacing. “It is no more than anyone would have done.”

  “Everything else wrapped up?”

  The hunter looked unsure how to answer, but that was because the question wasn’t for him.

  “One dead, and three who won’t be waking up for a while,” Rosario said as she moved around the hunter to join Ricky.

  Ricky focused back on the now pale man. “Did you really think you’d get away with hunting people? With hunting us?”

  “I-I-I told you, I—”

  Ricky pulled the trigger.

  He and Rosario relieved the two dead hunters of their remaining weapons before rejoining Tasha where they’d left her to wait.

  The Scolareon CFO eyed the guns and crossbows. “We’re okay?”

  “We are okay,” Rosario said.

  “What now?”

  Rosario and Ricky shared a look. Rosario said, “We help the others, if they are still alive. Then we get you out of here.”

  Chapter Thirty-Four

  Dylan lay on the roof of the building where the holding cells were, looking through his binoculars. He scanned the area between where the vehicles were parked on the side and the woods back toward the meadow where the trials began.

  It was only a short wait before the silhouette of Slater’s man separated from the trees and sprinted across the open ground to the van.

  Dylan clicked his mic twice to let the others know the guy had arrived. He could have easily taken the kid out, but his gun remained at his side as he watched the guy rush up to the vehicle and jump into the driver’s seat.

  When the engine started, Dylan said, “Prepare to reposition.”

  “Copy,” Morgan said. She was really getting the hang of things.

  Dylan was off the roof and ready before the van started moving. There was a chance the guy would decide to screw his bosses over and head for safety. If that was the case, they would let him go. But scared as the kid probably was, he was also well trained, as he headed for the path toward the meadow.

  “Coming your way, Liesel.”

  “Copy.”

  Dylan moved to the hidden spot he’d picked out earlier, close to where the path to the meadow exited the trees. “In position. Morgan?”

  “In position.”

  He glanced toward the eroded ditch she would be in. He couldn’t see her, but that was the point.

  “Liesel?” he asked.

  Liesel eyed the opening to the path via the rifle’s scope. “He has paused just inside the trees.”

  It didn’t take a lot of thought to know the driver was scared of getting shot. The irony was, she could shoot him dead where he was sitting right now.

  Though she couldn’t see Rally, Slater, or Yates hiding behind the platform, she did hear one of them yelling. Since it was all anger and no pain, she figured it was one of the brothers, urging the guy in the van to get his ass in gear.

  It took a second shout to finally get the vehicle moving. It crept forward, but as soon as the front bumper cleared the trees, the driver slammed on the accelerator. The van raced onto the field, took a sharp right turn that nearly toppled it, and skidded to a stop on Liesel’s side of the platform.

  “Loading now,” she said.

  The moment the van stopped, Slater and Yates hauled their cousin up between them. Rally was barely conscious. Slater thought they’d stopped the bleeding in time, but he didn’t know for sure.

  While Cory had been thinking enough to park the van on the other side of the platform, he had not been smart enough to stop at a point that would have allowed them to walk around the side of the structure without putting them in view of the gunman. They had to maneuver Rally back onto the raised surface, and then help him across it and down the ramp on the other side, the same ramp the prey had used when they fled.

  “Open the goddamn door,” Slater yelled as they neared the vehicle.

  Cory, who’d been sitting motionless in the driver’s seat, sprang to action and unlatched the passenger side door. Yates went in first, then pulled on their cousin while Slater pushed from the other side. Given his injury, Rally needed to stay in the seat, so Slater climbed over him, yanked the door closed, and twisted around until he could join his brother in the middle area.

  “Go!” Yates said to Cory.

  As if to emphasize the order, a bullet pinged off the back of the vehicle.

  Cory sped toward the path. More bullets hit the van but they stopped once the vehicle reached the trees.

  When they came out the other side of the path, Slater sighed with relief and—

  Bang.

  The van began fishtailing.

  “Keep us on the road!” Slater said.

  “I’m trying,” Cory replied.

  Bang.

  The front driver’s side dipped, pulling the vehicle to the left.

  Bang.

  The front passenger’s side dropped, and they heard the flap-flap-flap of loose rubber.

  Someone was shooting their tires out.

  Bang.

  Now all four were gone.

  In somewhat of a miracle, Cory kept them from crashing. But he was also slowing.

  “No!” Slater said. “Keep going.”

  “The tires are gone.”

  “I don’t care. If you stop, we’re all dead!”

  The kid stepped on it again and headed down the road to the lodge, the van weaving left and right.

  “Dammit, they’re not stopping,” Dylan said.

  He pointed his gun at the back of the van but didn’t pull the trigger. They needed the brothers and cousin alive.

  “What’s going on?”

  “Ananke?” he said. They hadn’t heard from her since not long after the people being hunted had been released. “Are you back?”

  “Two minutes from the rendezvous. Give me an update.”

  As Dylan and Morgan made their way back to the cell building, he and Liesel took turns filling in Ananke. By the time they finished, Dylan and Morgan and Ananke had all reached the building. With Ananke was the Hispanic male former captive.

  “Liesel, go find Ricky and Rosario,” Ananke said.

  “I have not checked the men I shot in the field yet.”

  She was supposed to provide first-aid once it was safe, so that no one would bleed out.

  “Take care of that as quickly as you can, and then find our friends. But be careful. I incapacitated one of the hunters, but the other five are still out there.”

  “Copy.”

  Ananke looked at Morgan. “I need you to s
tay here and watch over everyone. This is Eduardo. He’ll help if you need it.”

  Morgan nodded and shook hands with Eduardo.

  “I think the best plan would be to barricade yourselves inside the cell building until we come back.”

  “Makes sense,” Morgan said.

  “You know we already have someone locked up in there,” Dylan said.

  “Who?” Ananke asked.

  “The woman working with Rally and Slater. She showed up over here and I led her to a cell.”

  “Oh. If only they were all so easy.”

  “Tell me about it.”

  “Come on, you’re with me.”

  She ran toward the ATVs Slater and Yates had used earlier. As Dylan followed, he could hear Eduardo say to Morgan, “Who are you guys?”

  The flat tires made the going considerably slower. Slater cursed silently for not having taken the wheel, but knew it was better to let Cory continue to drive than to stop and make the switch.

  The van banged over a pothole and pulled left.

  “Watch it!” Yates yelled. “You don’t want to get stuck!”

  Cory turned the wheel to the right and kept the van on the road. Barely.

  Several similar incidents occurred before they finally spotted the glow of the lodge lights.

  Slater patted Rally on the shoulder. “Almost there.”

  When Rally didn’t respond, Slater checked his pulse.

  “How is he?” Yates asked.

  “Weak,” Slater said.

  “Pick it up, Cory,” Yates ordered. “Faster!”

  Ananke and Dylan sped over to the meadow parking area and down the road back to the lodge.

  They were about halfway to the building when she spotted a flash of brake lights in the forest ahead that had to belong to the van. Riding on rims and the remains of tires had slowed it considerably.

  Ananke kept on the road until she caught the first direct sight of Slater’s vehicle. With Dylan close behind, she veered into the woods and carved a path between the trees that would take them to the lodge.