The Hunted

The Hunted: Chapter ll

Dammit, Dammit, Dammit.

He chanted the same thing over and over again in his head as he lay on his stomach waiting to see if any other shots were going to be fired. After a few minutes, he started crawling on his stomach in the direction of his front door. Inside, he had weapons, ammunition... and sufficient cover.

He just had to get there first.

As he continued to belly-crawl his way across his large porch, he was cursing himself for buying a house that made it so easy for him to get taken down. Yeah, the porch is what had made him buy the house; he had a thing for porches. What he didn’t think about at the time, was the fact that it didn’t provide sufficient cover and it was damn big. That, in turn, makes it hard to get inside the house quickly and without getting injured.

What a dumbass decision.

What the hell had he been thinking? He forced himself to push those thoughts away and save them for another time. He didn’t even bother checking to see if Carrie was alive; there was no way in hell someone could survive getting the back of their skull blown out. He felt a pang of guilt and even a little remorse. Yeah, Carrie had been annoying and her presence unwanted, but that didn’t mean she deserved to die.

Dammit, Dammit, Dammit.

He cursed himself over and over again. He just had to get in the house, out of the way of fire, get a weapon, load it, and take the motherfuckers out. Seems simple enough when you’re thinking it in your head, but actually doing it is another matter when there’s a possibility of getting shot. Its not that he was afraid of the pain; no. He could take the pain. What he couldn’t take was his death laying down. If he was going to be killed then he was going to damn well fight until the last breath left his lungs.

He wouldn’t stripped of his dignity while also being stripped of his humanity. He wouldn’t allow it. Besides, fighting was in his blood, its what he did best.

He could out-last anyone. It wasn’t that he was bragging, it was just a fact. He’d fought many times; the prize being his life. Countless people had tried to take that prize away from him, and countless times he proved just how unwilling he was to give it up. He knew people, men, that didn’t care whether or not they lived or died. As long as it was with pride, honor, and dignity.

Well, fuck that.

He wanted his life, not a couple nice words on his tombstone about how prideful, honorable, and dignified he was. He’d roll over in his grave if he’d let someone take his life without at least fighting tooth and nail to stop them. All these thoughts were running through his head as he crawled into his front door. He immediately slammed and bolted it. He then crawled to all his windows and closed the inside shutters. After doing that and making sure everything was locked, he went to this gun cabinet and chose a gun.

He had just finished loading it when he heard the screech of tires. He cautiously made his way to the front door. As he opened it, he saw the retreating taillights of the red Honda.

The assholes had stolen her car.

~

After finishing her third cup of coffee, she made her way back to her little bedroom to get dressed. As she walked in she didn’t look at her bed, she refused to look at the place where so many of her terrors reached her in her sleep. Sure, it was stupid and irrational but who cares. She sure as hell didn’t.

She slid open her closet doors, grabbing a black tank-top, and faded, ripped skinny jeans. She put on her black Vans and quickly made her way out of her apartment. She couldn’t stand to be in there much longer, the walls felt as if they were closing in on her. She took a deep breath as she finally stepped outside. It was summer and the air was humid but she didn’t mind; summer was her second favorite season. Autumn was her first.

She could smell grass, fresh laundry and.... heat. She didn’t know how it was possible to smell heat but that was the only way she could describe it. There was a nice breeze blowing so the heat wasn’t too suffocating.

She decided against taking her car, and made her way out of the parking lot on foot. She pulled out her phone, ready to text her friend but then remembered she was busy. Yesterday at work, Carrie had been so exited at the prospect of seeing some guy today. According to her, she was completely head over heels in love with him. It was sweet and all, but she herself didn’t believe in love.

How could love actually exist? Humans were such a selfish creature; how could they find it in their hearts to love another more than themselves? She’d never met anyone who was like that, and didn’t believe Carrie was like that either. She was as selfish and vain as they come, though for good reason.

She was absolutely gorgeous, and no one could deny it. She was a petite little blond girl with blue eyes and great legs. She herself wasn’t envious of Carrie, she just understood why the girl was so vain. The selfishness came from being spoiled by her parents, well at least that was what she assumed. She was friends with Carrie, but in the loosest sense of the word. She didn’t have any real friends. She probably wasn’t capable of having real friends.

But that was part of her problem wasn’t it?

She kept walking, basking in the feeling of having the sun warm her cheeks. She was just about to cross the street when she saw a red Honda speeding down the road. She noticed that it looked a lot like Carries car, but quickly brushed that thought away when she saw that the driver was a guy.

After the car zoomed past, she crossed the street and headed to the neighborhood park. She made her way over to the swings and sat down on one. As she slowly started swinging, she didn’t notice how the little red Honda passed by again, this time slower. Much slower.