Chapter 13: Hunters and Prey

We hadn't gotten far into our thoughts, when the scanner hit pay dirt on channel three.

First Voice, "Hey, Pete. I'm down on Twenty. Looks like a couple more days before the snow melts enough that we'll see many travelers. I don't see any tracks, not even snowmobiles."

Second Voice, "Well, move on east a few miles and keep an eye out for tracks or smoke. Some of these farms and houses are sitting back a ways in valleys. Remember, with the snow and ice, you might not recognize a drive when you pass it."

First Voice, "No shit Sherlock, I know what I'm doing. You and Mikie just stay away from my pussy. I don't want her all upset and crying again when I get back."

Second Voice, "Asshole."

The scanner went dead.

Hannah's eyes were wide. "I knew a fire was dangerous, but now I know how lucky I was that it was you and not them."

"Well," I said reaching over to hug her, "Now we know they are still around and hunting. Likely they are within two, maybe three miles. Hand held CBs usually don't reach much farther than that, and even allowing that our antenna might pickup fainter signals, we'll start planning for them to be holed up somewhere within a mile north or south of Highway Twenty."

"Agreed," said Rachel. "And we began seeing burned outbuildings about ten miles west of here. That suggests they are moving east and maybe leapfrogging victims."

"I wonder what they are using up so fast." Hannah again. "Most farms are pretty well stocked at this time of year. You'd think they wouldn't need to keep raiding."

"You have to figure that there are just plain vandals, thugs, and assholes in this world. They don't need a reason, just opportunity," interjected Cathleen. "I just hope it isn't women and girls they are using up. Sounds like it might be," and she shuddered.

"That tears it though. We have a mission." I said.

"We have a mission!" declared Cathleen, the others nodded emphatically, and we resumed our planning.

By Sunday, the snow had melted in large patches, and we were walking east on Highway Twenty, each of us about twenty feet from the other. Where there was snow, we occasionally saw boot prints but failed to find where they had joined the highway.

Our Pixie was in the lead, bareheaded, and her bow slung over her shoulder. We hoped that the sight of the tiny blonde would lessen the thugs' caution, and that they would underestimate her. To further this deception, her new sisters followed, also bareheaded with long braids hanging down.

We knew pretty well where the four ambushers were and even how they were positioned. They had chattered continually on their CB's as they moved down the road. Evidently, they had used this location successfully before.

Pete, of the earlier broadcast, was in the blocking position for their ambush. The others were spread out on the south side of the road, maybe a total of thirty feet from Pete. Their tactic was for Pete to draw attention so the others could either fire from the side or surround their victims.

We were in a slanted formation. I think the infantry squad tactics called it 'echelon right.' The idea was to be able to fire without hitting each other or presenting a simple target to our foes. In this case, our lead person would be farthest away from the ambushers who we knew to be on the south side of the road. I was bringing up the rear, with Cathleen immediately to my front, and Rachel followed behind Hannah.

Not knowing for sure if the ambushers wore Kevlar vests, we planned to target extremities, starting with throats and heads. We hoped for one prisoner to interrogate, but that was a secondary objective.

The plan worked to perfection. As Hannah neared the place Pete was hiding, he stepped out into the road and planted his feet. His rifle hung loosely in his left hand, and he held a large wicked hunting knife in his right. "Hello, chickie-babe. What's with the bow? I thought Robin Hood carried the bow, not Maid Marion!" He laughed at his wit. "Need a man? That wimp hanging back ain't no Robin Hood. He can't be enough for three babes. Me and the boys are really experienced at satisfying honeys like you."

Two more ambushers stood to see better, the third remained crouching. Maybe he had better sense than the others, but none of them appeared to have any hunting skills, much less military training.

Pete waved the knife menacingly and stepped towards Hannah. Like magic, a throwing knife drove through his open mouth and pierced his spine. Our Pixie hadn't exaggerated her skill with a knife.

She spun, dropped, and pulled Bucky from her coat pocket. Her shot at Rachel's target was only a heartbeat behind, taking him in the ear while Rachel's took off the top of his head. Hannah shifted back and put a round through the top of Pete's head as he toppled forward.