The Hunt

Chapter 44: Naya

"My god, would you look at this."

The voice comes from right above the pile of dead bodies I'm lying in. I stay especially still as more footsteps come closer.

"Damn, what happened here?"

"That girl must've killed them all."

"No way. Not a chance in hell. All of em?"

"That's what it looks like."

"You're telling me she somehow stole a gun from us, shot down this whole mountain of people, and got away?"

"This girl gives me the creeps man."

"Alright, well who wants to be the one to tell Mikkel?"

"Aksel, you should do it. He likes you better than any of us."

There are grunts in agreement from at least three others, all standing around me.

"Why don't you do it yourself? You're the leader of our patrol group, you were in charge of us while Mikkel stayed back, why don't you man up and tell him what happened to the first group?"

The man lowers his voice, "You know what Mikkel does when he's angry."

I can almost feel the change in the atmosphere as shudders and murmurs go around. Is that how Mikkel keeps his authority? Kills people who upset him? How cliche.

"Let's head back to camp. Mikkel won't return for another few hours, we can think of something then."

"What should we do with the bodies?"

"Leave em here. We can deal with them when Mikkel comes back."

I let out a quiet sigh of relief, my gag reflexes long since numbed. I hear them all trudge away, and lift up a grimy, limp arm so I can see if they're all out of sight.

Climbing out of the pile feels like I'm coming up from the water for air. I'm crawling out of a cave into the sunlight. I'm emerging from a cocoon of corpses.

But my gunshot wound also hurts like hell.

Adjusting my hood and my coat, I creep through the shadows, darting from tree to tree, following the group who had just left. They're very good at traveling silently and quickly, but I'm better.

They'll lead me right back to their camp.

There are a lot more than I originally thought.

The camp sprawls, containing easily fifty bedspreads and food and weapons beyond my wildest dreams. Exiles by the masses converse and share food and mill about the trees, the big pines that I crouch in. None of them fight, none of them carry their weapons with them.

It's a whole new level of civilization that I've never seen before. Is this what all packs are like?

The pine tree I am nestled in is huge and very lush, thick pine needles hiding my figure from down below. A group of men, including the bald one named Aksel, grunt and discuss before me. They are awaiting Mikkel's arrival.

I remember Mikkel's eyes, I remember his clenching jaw and his relaxed posture. He was charming in a way that Javaar wasn't. He isn't just a kid. He can't be much older than me, but he is like a man.

I remember what he said to me, when he was intoxicated and let me go. Mikkel claimed he's the one I should be scared of, but until I see something that scares me, I won't be afraid of him. He's just the figure of the group, the man who sits and lets everyone else do his dirty work.