The Hunter

41 days since my last kill, Ted thought as he sat in the blind shrouded by a cluster of defrosting pines. The faint scent of wet morning grass tickled his sinuses and reminded him of spring and death. He needed this. With work and school, it felt like he hadn’t been outside in weeks.

He’d stalked the same family the year before but hadn’t been able to finish the job. He was sure they would be back though. They were creatures of habit, after all. He planned to spend two days in the blind, if needed. Ted wished it could be more, but he had to be back at work on Monday. Answering phones with Anne over watered down Folgers wasn’t exactly his idea of a good time, but it paid the bills and at least he could talk to her. Unlike his mother.

He craved this moment and considered himself lucky to have the opportunity to be out in the magnificence of the Pacific Northwest. Of course, he would go after a female and, if he remembered correctly, this particular family had three. One would be enough, but two would be exquisite. Best not to get greedy though. The kill was exhilarating but the cleanup could get messy, not to mention exhausting.

Ted was asleep when they approached the first night. Legs cramped from being folded and unused, he rose slowly when he heard their first steps in the clearing. When he recognized the same herd from the year before he felt lucky. Stalking prey takes time, meticulous attention and even then, often yields disappointing results. He recognized the one he wanted quickly. Like a boy picking out a puppy, he locked his eyes on the doe-eyed female and knew she would be his.

He approached unseen, hidden by the landscape he knew so intimately. His movements were precise and measured as he sliced open the back of the tent, pulled the girl out swiftly and crammed her into the back of his 1968 Volkswagen Beetle. He wouldn’t have to drive far before he could get things started. Just a few miles outside the Tacoma Family Campgrounds, a little deeper into the woods, would do just fine.