Hunter

The floor creaked. Hunter left his bed in a flash, reaching for his rifle before he truly opened his eyes. The light flipped on, flooding his senses. In the moment it took him to adjust, someone shoved him hard enough the back of his head cracked into the wall.

Regaining himself, Hunter focused on the threat.

Who turned out to be Watchman Lewiston. He was the cruelest of the Watchmen, reveling in tormenting the younger men unlucky enough to cross his path. The last time Hunter encountered him still haunted his dreams.

"Morning, Acolyte. Grand General wants to see you."

Hunter rubbed his head, feeling a bump already forming. The sun wasn't even out. He could barely see anything out the dark window that overlooked the large grounds of the training facility. He'd lived at the facility for over a year, since shortly after his thirteenth birthday, when he had to enlist in the Colony Militia. He'd been proud. His father and three older brothers were in the militia, and Hunter wanted to be like them. Especially like his oldest brother, James. As far as he was concerned, James was the best role model in the entire colony.

The only man to have killed an alien in living memory.

"Why?"

Hunter hit the ground right after the fist slammed into his head. "I don't question the Grand General, but it's a double sin for you. Honor thy father, and all. Move."

Apparently not trusting Hunter to obey, Lewiston grabbed the younger man. Dressed only in his sleep clothes, not even boots, Hunter stumbled along out the door and down the dirt path. Small rocks drove into his feet as he struggled to keep up with the man who had such a grip on his arm there would no doubt be a bruise.

It was probably two hours before sunrise. Newly inducted Catechumens ran back and forth across the grounds, not phased by the sight of half-dressed Hunter. It was something like a right of passage for the first day in the militia. They stayed up running all night after taking their oath, then as soon as they were exhausted and puking, their first day of training began.

Lewiston was taking him directly to the Grand General's main office, based on the left turn he took at the eatery.

"You must have really done something for me to have to get out of bed to bring you to your father. Don't think I'll forget about this."

How kind of him.

The building was mostly dark as they entered. The only light spilled out of the General's office doorway. Lewiston stopped several feet from the door, but shoved Hunter forward. Hunter did not want to think about why the older man did not want to approach the General.

The General in question stood behind his desk watching the Catechumen's as they ran. Hunter knocked on the doorjamb. "Sir? You sent for me?"

Grand General Marcus Moore turned. The light caught the silver in his hair and cast shadows across his face.

"Your brother is missing."

Hunter expected anything but that. He said, "Which one, sir?"

Ace or Karter might have gone off hunting without telling anyone. Neither of them thought things through very well. Hunter's mind jumped to his younger brothers, Ryder and Beau. Stories of unbelievers snatching young children and taking them into the forest to train them to worship Satan sprang to the front of his thoughts.

The General stepped forward. "Are you sure you don't know?"

"Truly, sir. I do not know."

"James. I sent a Guardian to retrieve him for a training issue. James, the wife, and the son are not in their home."

James and JJ being gone could also be a hunting trip. However, Hunter could not think of a single reason Alaina would not be at home in the middle of the night. What would a woman be doing out of the house besides church, anyway?

"There must be a reason, sir. I'm not sure why, but—"

"Do you know of the conversation I had with James this evening?"

"No, sir."

"I told him he is to set aside his wife and take another. It has been too long since they've had a pregnancy. Not even a hint of one. So I told him she is to go, immediately. Now can you think of a reason they may be missing?"

"James's wouldn't leave. He knows it's his duty to continue the line and become Grand General. He's not an unbeliever."

The thought of it made his anger flair like a spark erupting into a roaring flame. He wasn't one to accept insult, especially not toward James. Hunter knew there had to be a reason, a good reason, why James was not at home.

"He's overly sentimental. He's grown attached to that woman, despite my warnings. He may very well have done something rash. Now, you will track him down. I need this handled before people find out. If James does not come back on his own, you're to kill all three of them. Then you'll light the house on fire. As far as the people are concerned, the young family died tragically. Certainly not shamefully."

Time continued forward. It could have been a second or an hour. Hunter stood frozen in the doorway, trying to process his father's words. Nothing he'd said made sense. James left voluntarily? Hunter had to find him? Possibly kill him?

Even if only a second passed, it was too long for the General. It took him half a blink to reach Hunter and grab his neck. "You know Doctrine. If James has crossed that border, his blood is upon him. Go find him."

Hunter's vision blurred as the hand tightened around his windpipe. He made a vague sound of understanding.

The moment the General released him, Hunter bolted. He jogged back to his room to dress and prepare.

As the Grand General's son, he got his own living space. The other Acolytes, and even the Legionaries, shared large halls with dozens of bunks. Hunter's space was practically a closet, but peaceful and private. With five brothers, privacy was a luxury.

He threw on his uniform and took his rifle, ensuring he had enough ammunition. James was a marksman, and Hunter did not look forward to a firefight with the older man. They'd hunted together for as long as Hunter could remember. It was James who taught him to skin and cook squirrels, way back when Hunter was still learning to read. It always seemed like James's couldn't miss, at least to a four-year-old's mind.

The early morning air immediately made his uniform uncomfortable as he stepped outside. A plan formed, fuzzy at first but more clear as he sped to the path outside the compound.

Obviously, James would head to the nearest gate. If they walked with JJ, they would have to go fairly slow, not to mention they had probably packed for the trip.
Thoughts drifted through his mind, each worse than the last. What could have made James take such a drastic action? Why would he leave the safety of the colony to go to the aliens? Surely he would not risk his son. And, James was going to inherit the Grand General title when their father died. He's be one of the most powerful men in the colony, if not the most powerful.

All the Moore's had enough money to live in comfort, but the Grand General was the wealthiest amongst them. James's turning down that sort of money gave Hunter pause. Did James know something he didn't?

But Doctrine said leaving was the ultimate expression of unbelief.

The walk to the forest went by quickly. He entered the trees unconcerned with the dark, having spent a significant amount of time camping and training there.

It occurred to Hunter than he had no idea how big of a head start James had. He could have left hours before. If that was the case, he would be beyond the gate already. Hunter picked up his pace. As far as he could tell, there was no sign of James's movements. Hunter had chosen the path James would have taken from his house.

Then he hesitated, slowing to a stop. James was a smart man, perhaps the smartest Hunter knew. There was a good chance James would have taken a different path to throw off anyone in pursuit. As the next Grand General, James had gone through training for all the militia sections, including border patrol. He knew the tricks. Hopelessness welled in Hunter's chest.

He had no choice but to continue. The consequences of failure would be dire.

Lost in his thoughts, Hunter didn't realize he had slowed again. He shook himself out of the memories that gripped his mind and took off as fast as he could through the thick underbrush.

After a while, he came across footsteps. Relief flooded him. They looked fresh in the mud, and some of the plants were trampled as well. It was his best clue about where James walked.

The Warning Wall was not far off. When Hunter approached, he saw the lock was open. Ignoring the skeleton of an unbeliever, he braced himself and stepped into the Other Side. As a Border Patrolman, he had been out there several times, but each trip shook him to the core. Aliens could prowl this side of the border, free to attack and kill him. Usually, the patrols crossed in groups, pairs at the very least, for safety. Hunter had never passed alone.

He stopped in his tracks and knelt just outside the gate. Aloud, he prayed. "Dear father God, please let my journey be swift. If James has erred and become an unbeliever, please let me find him. Turn his heart back to Doctrine and save his soul from the furnace of fire. Release his mind from the grip of the alien demons. Please give me the strength to do what needs to be done. Amen."

Resolved, Hunter continued. He clutched his rifle in front of himself, prepared to fire if he came across any threat. James was the only person he knew of who had seen an alien. Hunter had been only six-years-old, but vividly remembered James dragging the corpse back into town. The demon was horrifying, like a giant snake with legs. They tied it to a stake and burned it. James was a hero overnight. The militia, that being the Grand General, awarded him the Colony Defense Medal, the highest honor in the colony.

The alien confrontation happened just about where Hunter prayed, right at the line outside the gate where the border patrol scouted. They rarely passed the line, and would kill any who tried to enter.

Hunter did not want to come across any sort of alien. Sweat dripped down his back as he considered it. He was the same age James had been, and it amazed him his brother had the presence of mind to take on the monstrous being. Hunter was not sure he would have the same fortitude.

Something skittered by, and Hunter barely refrained from firing at it. The sound would surely alert James.

Another sound caught his attention.

James's voice.

Hunter slowed, cautious of being seen. He caught a glimpse of JJ walking toward a tree. James sat on a log.

He took a deep breath, preparing to take action. His father's words rattled around his mind. James's blood was upon him. There was no going back.

Hunter aimed, remembering everything James ever taught him about hunting. Even breathing. Solid stance. Steady aim.

Fire.

For all that, Hunter only winged him. James barely moved as the bullet tore through the meat of his shoulder. Their eyes locked for the briefest second before Hunter turned and sprinted back toward the gate. He knew he would never best James, and he was not prepared to die. Whatever his father would do to him would surely be better than death. Well, hopefully.

Hunter ran all the way back to the gate. He didn't hear James chasing, but he took no chances. The iron clanged, echoing in the early morning air. He stopped to catch his breath as his lungs and legs seared.

Making his way to James's house, he hoped to find some clue to bring to his father. At least that might make up for not bringing back a body.

Light flooded the living room when Hunter tapped the control just inside the door. He didn't remember ever living in the house. They moved into the main house when he was only two. Over the years, he had visited for dinners and Bible studies, but he rarely went upstairs.

Half an hour into his search, he came across an empty closet. He stepped back and looked up and down the hallway. There was a bedroom on either side of the closet, with a large gap. His stomach sank.

The back of the closet confirmed his suspicions. The wall gave way when he pressed, revealing an entire room.

Tables held papers and books scattered about. All contraband.

Something compelled him to look at everything, knowing it was a sin against Doctrine to read anything beside the Bible. He hoped God would forgive him.

Every word sounded more outlandish than the last. Nothing could have been more sinful than those papers. He slipped through a book, almost struggling to comprehend the meaning of the unfamiliar words. Something about a man born a slave and living in towns Hunter had never heard of. He tried to think of what it meant to be born a slave. The closest he could come up with was sinners who were indentured to the church. But no person was indentured from birth, as far as he knew. He stopped on a page and tilted his head. The person who wrote it talked about the color of his skin. What color? Everyone in the colony had nearly the same color skin. The farmers out on the edges of town often had darker arms and faces, but babies started out the same.

Where had this book come from?

Hunter grabbed several of the papers and shoved them in his pockets. There was only one thing to do.

He went to the kitchen and found the matches. It took six to get a good fire built up, starting with the room full of contraband. The sun was rising when he left.

His first stop was the main house. The only thing he could think to do was speak to his mother.

The evidence was too alarming. He banged on the door for a full minute before she opened it.

"Hunter? What are you doing?"

He stepped in and looked around. "James ran away with Alaina and JJ."

Christine Moore did not look as shocked as he expected.

"I see."

"Father sent me to bring him back or kill him. I shot him, but he lived. So I came back to burn down his house. Father is going to say they died in the fire."

"I see."

Hunter took the papers out of his pocket with shaking hands. "I found these in the house. Do you know what they mean?"

His mother took them cautiously. "I've never seen these." She read for several moments, then placed them in her apron pocket. "We never saw these. You hear? We never, ever read these."

"Yes, ma'am."

"Go now. See your father."

Hunter nodded and walked out the door. His mother was smarter than anyone gave her credit for. She would know what to do.

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