By Lyn
Copyright 1999
Buck squinted against the early morning sunlight. Mathews and Baker, Brooks’ two employees stood on either side of him, each holding one of his arms. Buck thought it bit of overkill, since his hands were also bound and Brooks stood nearby with a gun pointed at him.
They had come into the trophy room about an hour before, followed by the cook with his breakfast tray. He had barely eaten a thing, part from nerves, part from not wanting that full feeling to slow him down. He was going to need his strength, but also as much speed and agility as he could muster. Then they had opened the cage, tying his hands together and pushed him through the house and outside.
So now he stood, looking around him, trying to get an idea of where he might be. The area was wooded, sitting high, with a spectacular view off to the west. Buck thought that it was an ideal spot to build a house. Too bad the owner was a monster.
Mathews gave him another push onward, leading him to an open pasture, with woods beyond. Mathews stepped in front of him and untied his hands as Brooks leveled the gun at him once more. Several horses stood nearby, one bearing a full arsenal of weapons, the other three saddled and ready to go.
“Here’s what we’re going to do.” Brooks said. “You’re going to get a five minute head start. Then we’ll be following you. My lands go on for miles so there’s very little chance that you’ll reach any other homesteads before I catch you.”
“Pretty sure of yourself, aren’t you?”
“I wouldn’t be so cocky. I’ve shot everything I’ve hunted since I was twelve. You’ll end up the same way. It’s just a matter of how soon.”
“Don’t count on it.” Buck said with a confidence he didn’t feel. Brooks just laughed.
“In those woods are all types of exotic animals that could take your life, so watch yourself. I wouldn’t want them to spoil all my fun.”
“That would be too bad.”
“Okay, your time starts now.” Mathews stepped away and Baker let go of his arm. Buck immediately pushed against Baker and kicked out at Mathews, knocking the man to the ground. Then he began to run across the pasture, Brooks’ laughter following him as he leapt over a downed branch and into the trees.
“Time’s up boy! Make this a good hunt!” Brooks yelled out five minutes later.
Buck could hear the man even though he had gone some distance into the trees. The voice echoed down through the woods. And he knew that the horses were crossing the pasture following the very clear trail he had left behind. But he needed to put distance between the men and himself. The growth here was thick, with underbrush threatening to trip him if he wasn’t careful, so he had to slow periodically. Then the woods would open up and he could add some speed.
Still, he knew it wouldn’t be enough. He was going to have to come up with a plan soon.
He jumped over another downed branch, and immediately ducked under another. He had taken two steps before he stopped dead in his tracks. Before him was a large cat, lounging on a rock in the sun. It was bigger than a cougar, orange in color with black stripes. Buck had seen the head of one on the wall in Brooks’ trophy room. The cat stared at him, it’s mouth opening and a large pink tongue emerged to lick at its jowls. A low growl came from the beast as Buck took several steps backward, avoiding the branches he had just dodged. When he was fifteen feet away, Buck turned and moved a little faster and finally broke into a run when he felt he was far enough away to have been forgotten by the animal.
He tried to slow his run, tried to cover his trail, and for the next hour or so he felt he was succeeding. But the gunshot that rang out, clipping the tree by his head, told him otherwise. He dodged behind a tree, then took off through some bushes. Pushing his way through them he glanced back over his shoulder. His next step found air and he was suddenly tumbling downward.
Buck rolled down the hill, cracking an elbow here, a shin there, on the protruding rocks. Bushes and grasses scratched and cut him. He was rolled over a large rock, knocking the wind out of him and sending him tumbling further. He finally came to rest against a large boulder and lay there, unmoving.
Brooks and his men stood at the top of the hill. He shook his head in disappointment.
“That was much too easy. I really thought he would give me more of a challenge.” Then the man turned and mounted. He and his men rode off to find the trail leading downward to retrieve his prey.
When they reached the bottom of the hill, Buck was no where to be seen. Brooks’ gleeful laughter carried across the valley.
On to Chapter Seven
