Iurii Haidai
Editor Andrei Dmytrevsky
Proofreader Maria Yakovleva
Cover designer Sergey Haidai
© Iurii Haidai, 2022
© Sergey Haidai, cover design, 2022
ISBN 978-5-0056-4673-6
Created with Ridero smart publishing system
Hunting
The lad took a deep breath and exhaled.
At that moment a load of buckshot hit the backside of the thick tree he was sheltering behind. The bark shattered in different directions. Arthur Travis (that was the lad’s name) shuddered and shrank back. He stood like that for several long seconds. There was no second shot. He straightened to his full height again, still with his back to the saving trunk.
– I’ll get you, you bastard! – came a shout from a house in the clearing at a distance from where the shooting was taking place. – I’ll fucking get you!
Travis squeezed his eyes shut, equalized his breathing, and moved swiftly into the woods.
Keeping his eyes on the tree, Sergeant David Hall, standing by the kitchen window of the house, continued to wait, clutching tightly the shotgun he had just fired from. When the target appeared for a moment from behind cover, Hall muttered grudgingly: «Gone!» – He turned and left the kitchen. Walking down the corridor, he opened the storeroom where the weapons were kept. Hall took the gun and handed it to his subordinate Corporal Miller, who had come running in at the noise from his room.
– Here, Henry,“ Hall said. – „We’re going after him.
– But, sir, what about the security of the facility? – Miller asked perplexedly. – «We have orders…
– Didn’t you see the corpse in the kitchen?! – The sergeant objected. – What the hell kind of facility, Henry? Wake up, there’s a murderer lurking out there who might come back for us. We must avenge our comrade’s death, lest it be in vain. Before the bastard gets too far away, there’s a chance to catch him. I know where he went and how he got here! Either he had no choice and had to get out of the way, or he went where he was safe. While we’re talking, he’s getting away.
Corporal Miller stood in indecision. Hall held out his pistol to him with the words, «That’s an order.» Henry silently tucked it behind his belt. Hall also took two automatic rifles from the storeroom. One he gave to the corporal, the other hung on his shoulder. He kept the shotgun as well. Walking past the kitchen, the sergeant took another look at the breathless body. He went up to the first floor and pulled a sheet off the bed. Miller helped wrap the deceased in it and carried the corpse into the living room.
The blood of the deceased was almost cold, but it, like the remains of the brains, could be easily washed off. But the military did not do so: there was no time. All around they could see the signs of a struggle. The assassin must have been injured in the fight. He limped on one leg as he fled.
The two soldiers left the scene and went into the forest to look for the fugitive.
When they descended a small slope into the bushes, Travis decided to take his first break, stopped and sat down on the ground. His whole body ached terribly, his strength was leaving him quickly and there was no time to recover. The boy groaned and was ready to burst into tears in despair, but he pulled himself together. He could not give in to despair; he did not know whether the sergeant and corporal were after him. He had to get as far into the woods as he could until he was sure of his safety.
Travis, ducking as low as he could, reserved his strength and walked forward slowly, taking care not to strain his injured leg. He was poorly oriented in this unfamiliar forest. He could turn aside to throw off the trail of possible pursuers, but then he risked to get lost for a long time.
What next? There was no turning back: the house he had fled from would undoubtedly be prepared for his return.
Exhausted, he saw a small hole in front of one of the trees. He broke off some branches, lay down in the hole, covered himself with them and leaned his back against the trunk so that he could see what was going on. He was fortunate that his clothes were of a protective colour. He might not have been perfectly camouflaged, but he stood a good chance of going unnoticed.
Travis closed his eyes, tired from the constant strain. When he tried to open them, he found that they had become unbelievably heavy. He tried to lift them with his fingers, but his hand would not move either.
After a few seconds Arthur fell into a deep sleep.
He was awakened by the crackling of dry twigs. The footsteps of his pursuers could be heard behind him, very close by. With eyes dilated with fear, Travis tried to see if there was anything that would help him – a sturdy stick or other cover nearby. But there was nothing in sight.
Losing his guard and allowing himself to fall asleep, the fugitive found himself in a quandary. He feverishly considered ways out of it and decided that the only chance of overpowering the two armed men, who had received special training, was a surprise attack. Catch them by surprise, winning a few seconds which can later decide everything! It is not said for nothing: the best defence is a good offence.
But that thought had to be discarded.
As soon as he moved his hands they were instantly pierced with pain which spread over his entire body. Every injury he’d sustained in a recent fight was reminded of itself by a dull throbbing ache. He couldn’t step into a new one now: he couldn’t even stand up on his feet. He needs at least some time to recover. But unfortunately there was none left.
Every time he moved his arms, they were instantly pierced by an intense pain that pulsed through his body. Every injury he had sustained in a recent fight was a dull throbbing. He couldn’t step into a new one now: he couldn’t even stand up on his feet. He needs at least some time to recover. But unfortunately there was none left.
Sergeant Hall and Corporal Miller moved cautiously through the forest. Peering around, they kept their weapons ready. The search for the killer had not yet yielded any results.
At first they followed his footsteps, noting drops of blood on the ground, broken branches of bushes or trampled grass. But soon the tracks were lost. Now the fugitive could be anywhere. It was difficult to hide in this forest in plain sight, but as soon as one got further out one could easily disappear into the thicket.
– What shall we do now, Sergeant? – Miller asked in a whisper.
– The bloody bastard had got away. Maybe he lured us here on purpose, but he’s got his bearings.
The sergeant thought for a moment and ordered:
– Split up.
– Are you sure? – The corporal interrogated.
– I am sure. He may be setting a trap for us, but we have an advantage,» Hall pointed to the shotgun in his hands. – He’s wounded, it’ll play into our hands. If you don’t spot him in twenty or thirty minutes, get back to the point.
– Yes, sir.
Hall went to the right, Miller to the left, walking two metres from Travis covered in branches. The lad stared into the back of the slow-moving corporal and prayed to himself that Miller would get as far away as possible and never look back. For what reason the military didn’t see him, Travis wasn’t interested. He knew that he was lucky, and that was all that mattered. And besides, he saw a branch lying on the ground not far away, of a decent thickness.
The sun was setting slowly. The forest, already gloomy, had grown even darker.
Corporal