A Hunter By Any Name
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Authors: Sheila Wireman
A Hunter By Any Name
By Sheila Wireman
Text copyright © 2016 Sheila Wireman
All Rights Reserved
This book or parts thereof may not be reproduced in any form, stored in any retrieval system, or transmitted in any form by any means – electronic, mechanical, photocopy, recording or otherwise – without prior written permission of the author, except as provided by the United States of America copyright law. For permission requests, write to the author at
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Only after I had drove over an hour did I allow myself to start looking for a place to stop. I found myself in the middle of tobacco and cotton land with fields all around me. The adrenaline that had made my heart race and my mind search for an unidentified danger had finally dissipated. My mind was thanking of more practical things now. Like how I was covered in blood. The blood had dried and when I moved it cracked and flakes were starting to fall off. Also, my skin itched and crawled with the heebie-jeebies from the idea of being covered with blood. Even though I found myself covered in blood often I had never gotten used to it.
The good news was that most of the blood was not mine and that meant the fight had been a good one. It didn’t matter that I had a hastily tied rag over a deep slice on my left shoulder. I had walked away and my prey had not. Plus, it was my left shoulder and that was another thing to be thankful for. It sucked when it was my right arm that didn’t work well. I had worked relentlessly at improving my sword skills with my left hand but I was still better with my right hand.
I pulled into a drive that led to a cotton field and got out of the 2005 dark blue Chevy Equinox. I had grown fond of the vehicle and I knew that our time together was coming to an end. I mourned its impending loss. It had been a good vehicle and convenient I thought as I used the key fob to pop open the back hatch as a walked around the back of the vehicle. The Equinox had a roomy storage area behind the 2
nd
row of seats that easily held all my belongings. I had packed up the Equinox before my hunt tonight and everything I owned was currently in the back. However, this wasn’t my first rodeo so I had anticipated the need to wash and change clothes after I had completed my hunt. I had put a couple of gallons of water and a change of clothes where they were easily accessible.
My life required strict discipline and attention to details in order for me to stay alive. Well at least I had stayed alive so far. Therefore, although I eyed the water with a lust of desire to wash the dried blood off my skin I resisted the urge. Instead I followed my first rule of life:
Always take care of your weapons
.
I sighed and went around to the passenger side. I retrieved my weapons off the floor where I had discarded them hastily in my desire to flee. I regretted my treatment of them but in the moment running had to take priority. I knew at the time it had been the correct prioritization. The sound of sirens and the flash of lights from the approaching emergency vehicles told me they were quickly closing in on me. It had been a nasty battle and the warm night and full moon meant the private beach had not been empty even at midnight. Still I regretted throwing my weapons covered in blood down on the floor.
I used the water to wash my sword and knife blades, next I wiped them down with rubbing alcohol that stung as it seeped into the small cuts on my hands. Finally, with regret I gave the blades a good coating of mineral oil. I regretted using mineral oil and not gun oil but gun oil was just so hard to come by, well at least for me. Gun stores that sold gun oil had lots of security cameras. I tried to avoid security cameras whenever possible which these days was hard thing to do these days.
I opened a box that was labeled “Personal Bathroom” and put all the blades except the sword and my favorite knife in it. I kept those two blades close at all times. The labeling on the box had kept more than one cop from getting too nosey. Macho cops were squeamish when it came to feminine supplies.
I had found the secret was too look like I was just moving. That appearance coupled with a good sad story complete with tears about breaking up with my boyfriend and having to move home with my parents usually sent any cop fleeing, even the female ones. Girl cops had to be extra tough and they couldn’t stand dealing with weak crying females. I couldn’t blame them, although I felt generally felt pity more than dislike for weak women.
Finally, after my blades were gleaming in the moonlight I started to clean myself up. The early May evening was clear and a little chilly now that the sun had gone down but nothing I couldn’t handle. I stripped down and stuffed my clothes in a garbage bag I had left in the back for them. I opened a gallon of water and started washing. After all the blood was off I eyed the rag over my shoulder and decided to leave it. The blood was being contained and the lighting here was nonexistent except for the stars and the full moon out tonight. The slice would need stitches and I needed good lighting to do a decent job. I had enough scars that one more really wouldn’t make a difference. But I was still vain enough that if I was going to have another scar I wanted it to be straight.
I put on a pair of pink cotton panties and a white bra. Then I dressed in a pair of plain navy knit shorts that clung to my booty and showed too much for my liking. The t-shirt that was bright pink but nondescript. Next came a pair of white running socks and fashionable running shoes that made my feet sigh with comfort. I could handle clothes that didn’t fit as long as they didn’t impede my fighting but I was particular about my shoes. My life had depended on my ability to run fast and far more than once and those times always took me by surprise. Therefore, I made sure I was ready with a pair of good fitting running shoes firmly on my feet. That was my second rule of life:
Always plan a getaway.
When I was done cleaning up and packing away all my belongings, I took out a United States map that I had taped to a piece of cardboard. In the upper corner was a dart held on by duct tape. The dart had fletching that was damaged and held no hope of flying straight. Just perfect for what I needed. I propped the map up against by belongings. I backed up a couple of steps, closed my eyes and threw the dart at the map. When I heard the thump of the dart hitting the map I opened my eyes. Grand Junction, Colorado was the closest city to the dart. It sounded familiar. I inspected the map for a hole near Grand Junction Colorado and found one. Damn, that means I must have resupplied there before.
I knew I had not hunted there before because there was no large bodies of water near Grand Junction, Colorado and the wizards I hunted were always next to water. So I was slightly relieved but knew I would still have to be extra careful.
I packed everything back in the Equinox. I walked around to the back door behind the driver’s seat. I opened the door and sat the knife on the seat. I grabbed a long leather sheath I stuck my neck and left arm through the strap. I positioned the sheath with the opening facing forward and slid the sword in it. I grabbed a knife sheath from the floor, picked up the knife and slid it in the sheath. I then strapped the sheath on my right lag. I chanted a concealment spell and finally relaxed a little. I had clean blades safely strapped to me and good running shoes. What more could a girl ask for?
I got in the Equinox and backed out onto the road. It was only then that I relaxed the rest of the way. I was on the move and always felt safer when I was moving. I grabbed my smart phone and searched Google with one hand while driving. Yea, I know it is a bad habit but it was after midnight in the middle of butt fuck nowhere. Give me a break.
Two more girls had gone missing today, or I suppose yesterday now. One in Flint Michigan and one in Portland Oregon. I was conflicted. The person in Michigan, whom I assumed was a wizard, had been on killing spree. He had killed on every major and minor Sabbat since Yule in December. That made four girls so far. Plus, he wasn’t killing next to the oceans like all the other wizards I hunted had done. I supposed the Great Lakes surrounding the state was enough water for him.
I sighed as dread filled me. I really didn’t want to go to Michigan. I had always been able to avoid it. Michigan just looked closed in with a Great Lake on all sides. The only way to leave the state was at the bottom and top. I realized this was a dart decision and was thankful. So far the dart had avoided Michigan too.
I settled in for a long ride and I started wiping my phone. It was a cheap pay as you go Samsung from Walmart but I was paranoid enough to wipe the memory before I disposed of it. I reset the factory settings and then took a ton of up-close pictures of my leg, the dash board, and the passenger seat. Then I searched YouTube for cute kitten videos and let it play them randomly. Yes, my name is Hannah Peterson and I loved cute kitten videos. I had a bobble head cat on the dash along with several cat stickers stuck in random places on the dash as well.
I reset the factory settings one more time before removed the Sim card and SD card. I threw them out the window into the Mississippi river when I crossed over from Tennessee to Missouri on I-155. I kept the pink phone with the cat stickers on the back. This I put in the purse that contained all my other personal belongings that defined who I was.
Who am I? My name is Hannah Peterson. I am a cat loving girly girl that couldn’t live without her makeup and loved the color pink. I hunt and kill evil wizards.
I reached in my purse and sorted through the lipstick tubes until I found the one that matched my shirt perfectly. I reapplied my lipstick in the mirror before settling in for a long drive.
Normally I wait until I get into the city that I am resupplying in to start my crime spree to fund my resupply. But when I stumbled on the gated community outside of Denver Colorado. I knew in an instantly that I had found gold; figuratively and literally. Gated communities are so easy to burglarize once you figure out a good time and get inside the gates. Getting in the gates is much easier than anyone in the upscale homes liked to believe. All I need is a 20 something college geek home for the weekend or an old man looking for a fling. I personally prefer the 20 something geeks. They are willing to please and easy to boss around. Plus, they have a lot of stamina. It must be all the video games they play.
It took two weeks to make a plan and find a target. Those two weeks set me up nicely for the upcoming Memorial Day weekend with still a week to prepare. First, I had to hide the Equinox with my weapons. I parked it in a busy park-and-ride next to a highway. I took a bus ride up to Bolder and stole a little red convertible BMW outside a college bar. I hoped the girl it belonged to would be drunk enough to think she had forgotten where it was parked. Then maybe she would wait a couple of days to call the cops. But just in case, I switched license plates with another red BMW in Denver. Surprisingly it had been easy to find a second red BMW.
The owner of the 2
nd
BMW would probably never know I switched his plates until he or she got pulled over by the cops. No one looks at their license plate except once a year to put a tag on it. Even then how many people have their license number memorized? I know I could not tell you any of the license plates on any of the cars I drove. Then again none of them had ever belonged to me. I sighed a little at the pain of loss that managed to creep in. I have never gone to the DMV and taken a driving test or registered a car. It was just one of many ways my life was not normal.
I shook my head and gave myself a mental kick in the ass. There was no way I was letting my thoughts go down that road. Wishing for what I didn’t have would only distract me and get me killed.
Instead I focused on my plan. It filled me with satisfaction. I had a good plan and it held a promise to be enjoyable as well. I was going to a D&D store in downtown Denver. There was a geek coming home from college for the weekend that was going to get very lucky.
