Hunter's Quest

Hunter’s Quest

by

Karen McCullough

Ebook Edition

* * * * *

Electronic Edition Published By:

Karen McCullough

Edited by

Sarah K. Gerdon

HUNTER’S QUEST

Copyright © 2017

by Karen G. McCullough

First Publication Date: March 1, 2017

Ebook Edition License Notes

This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each person you share it with. If you're reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then you should return to Amazon.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the author's work.

Author's Note: I try to produce as clean a work as possible. This book has been through several rounds of editing in an effort to eliminate errors of grammar, usage, and consistency. However I realize that even multiple editors will overlook some things, so I ask that if you find any errors in this book, you let me know. You can email me at karen@kmccullough.com.

This novel is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination, or, if real, used fictitiously.

No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including photocopying, recording or by any information storage and retrieval system, without the express written permission of the author, except where permitted by law.

Table of Contents

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Seventeen

Chapter Eighteen

Chapter Nineteen

Chapter Twenty

Chapter Twenty-one

Chapter Twenty-two

Chapter Twenty-three

Chapter Twenty-four

Chapter Twenty-five

About the Author

Hunter’s Quest

Chapter One

The sudden, sharp crack of a rifle shot, way too close, shattered the peace of a lovely June day.

Moments before, Kristie Sandford had been driving sedately and musing on camera angles and light as she reveled in the sun-drenched beauty of a back road in the Blue Ridge Mountains. Pink and blue wildflowers grew along the verge, just in front of shrubs in varying shades of green. The scent of honeysuckle drifted in the open window of the car.

Alarmed by the explosive noise, she pressed down on the Toyota’s brake pedal and scanned the area around her. Thick undergrowth limited visibility to only a few feet into the woods. The land rose above her on the right, but even when she bent her neck to look up the side of the hill, she could detect no sign of human presence. She hadn’t passed any parked vehicles recently, and only one had gone by in the other direction in the last ten minutes. The last house she’d seen was more than a mile back.

A second crack followed moments later. Hunters, maybe—an uneasy thought. Stray bullets from careless hunters killed people. Kristie slowed the car, although the frequent switchbacks on the steep, narrow mountain road already limited her speed.

She steered around the next tight curve, alert to the possibility of another shot. That attention probably saved the life of the man who darted out of the trees and dashed across the road directly ahead of her.

Ohmigod. She stomped on the brake. Thank heaven for anti-lock technology. The tires screeched on the pavement and almost lost traction.

The man stopped in the middle of the road and stared at her. His glance swung toward the trees from which he’d emerged, then back to her. What the hell was he doing? Did he have a death wish or was he just frozen by panic? He stood in the center of the highway, watching her bear down on him.

Her heart did somersaults as she struggled to control the Toyota. Fingers locked around the steering wheel and swung it, trying to avoid him. The man stood his ground, inviting her to hit him. It looked like she’d grant his wish. There wasn’t enough room left to stop. If she swerved sharply enough to miss him, she’d induce a skid that might take her off the road. The agonized squeal of tires on asphalt scraped her nerves raw. Her pulse hammered in her ears

At the last possible second, he jumped out of the way, diving to the side.

Ohmigod, she muttered over and over. Her stomach twisted into knots. She continued to wrestle the car, flicking her gaze between the road ahead and the rearview mirror. The man landed near the shoulder, slid along the gravel, and rolled a couple of times across the narrow grass verge until brought up short and hard against the trunk of an old oak tree. The Toyota jerked to a halt, and Kristie sat for a moment. Her heart thumped like a drum and she couldn’t seem to draw in enough air. She wiped a bead of sweat off her temple, and then turned to look back over the seat through the rear window.

The man sprawled at the base of the tree and hadn’t moved since he’d landed there. She hadn’t felt the thunk of the car hitting him, but he might have bumped his head on the ground or against the tree. Cursing his folly, she shifted into reverse, checked behind her, and backed down the road, stopping when she drew even with the still figure.

She stared at him for a moment before she got out. He didn’t stir. People get tricked this way. The thought nagged at her. Someone pretends to be hurt or stranded, and when the mark stops to help, she gets mugged. Or worse.

But he could be badly hurt, her conscience argued back. And out here he could lie for hours before someone found him. She dragged her cell phone from her purse, hoping, praying even. It still showed the blasted No Service message. She tossed it onto the seat and pounded the steering wheel with her fist, then opened the door and approached the man cautiously. He lay on his side, back to her, so she couldn’t see his face. Torn, dirty jeans covered long legs, with well-worn running shoes below. Sweat, dirt, and blood stained the cotton work shirt stretched tight across broad shoulders. Medium brown hair just brushed his collar.

Her stomach clenched tighter when she surveyed the area around him. The tree he’d hit had saved him from a worse fate. A few feet beyond it, the ground dropped off sharply, diving into a ravine some forty feet down. If he’d gone over the edge he would have been seriously injured or killed. She couldn’t even think about what would’ve happened if she’d swerved too much to avoid him.

He might be dead already. Kristie sucked in a deep breath and walked across the grass to stand over him. With his face turned down toward the ground, all she could see was the hard angle of one cheek, smeared with dirt, streaked with blood and sweat. He lay very still.

She reached down to put a hand on his shoulder, but stopped short when he spoke. Without moving any other muscle of his body, he said in a low, urgent whisper, Do you see two men on the other side of the road?

The breath she’d been holding slipped out on a sigh of relief. You’re not dead. I didn’t think I’d hit you, but you were laying so still—

Shut up and listen! The words cut across her relieved babble. He made no move other than to speak. Do you see two men across the road?

Kristie stared at him in shock for a moment before she looked up. Beyond her car the woods on the other side of the road were still. No.

They’ll be here any minute. He collected himself and sat up so suddenly Kristie backed away. He winced as he levered himself upright. A large smear of blood surrounded a ragged tear in the left sleeve of his shirt. Something more than a scrape had caused that injury. He looked around. The man was probably about thirty. The face that studied his surroundings was lean and had too many sharp angles to be called handsome, but a rugged strength shone through the grime, blood, and bruises. His skin was almost the same shade of brown as his hair, too deep and even to be a suntan. A large abraded area reddened his left temple, and blood from a scratch across the cheekbone tracked toward his ear.

The snap of a twig on the other side of the road made them both swing around to look that way. Kristie still didn’t see anyone. The man sitting on the ground looked up at her. His eyes were very light, either pale blue or gray, the color a startling contrast to his skin and hair, but they held a penetrating intelligence and force. Tell them I went over the edge, he ordered.

Chapter Two

He offered no further explanation. Without waiting for her response, he crawled swiftly to a thicket of rhododendron bushes ten feet away and disappeared into its depths. Since he stayed low, her car would hide his movement from the person approaching. She winced when she thought about how many more scratches he’d collect in his passage through the shrubbery.

Footsteps tromped toward her. Kristie walked to the brink of the hill, staring down into the ravine. A steep path led down into it not far to her left, but directly ahead the land dove sharply. Low, scrubby shrubs lining the incline wouldn’t do much to break a fall there. Good Lord, she muttered. She didn’t have to work hard to bring tears. Reaction setting in made her feel shaky and brittle. She remembered how close she’d come to hitting him and saw what would have happened had the tree not stopped his slide. That didn’t mean she should lie to help him escape, though. He might be a criminal, running away from the law. By the time she heard voices hailing her from behind, her cheeks were damp and she could barely see through the haze of tears.

Thank heaven, someone’s here, she shouted, in what she hoped sounded like near-hysterical desperation. He ran out in front of my car. She turned to face the two men approaching, blinking tears out of her eyes so she could make them out.

What happened? the thinner of the two men asked. You hit someone? With the car? The questions sounded more eager and curious than concerned.

I didn’t mean to. I wasn’t speeding, but coming around that curve... I couldn’t stop.

Where is he now?

She nodded toward the edge of the ravine. Oh, Lord, I killed him. Kristie put her hands over her face. She had to get hold of herself. Reaction mixed with feigned distress brought her close to an all-too-genuine hysteria. Why was she even doing this? The man was a total stranger. She might be an accessory now if he was a criminal.

She didn’t think so, though. The two men she faced didn’t remind her of law enforcement types. The thinner one had long blond hair pulled back into a tail at the nape of his neck. A scraggly mustache drooped over his narrow-lipped mouth but failed to conceal an infuriating grin. Blue eyes didn’t try to disguise his satisfaction at this turn of events. He wouldn’t mourn if the other man really did lie dead at the bottom of the ravine. The rifle the blond man held in his right hand reminded her of the shots she’d heard earlier and led her to wonder about a connection with the blood on the stranger’s arm.

His heavier companion, fortyish and balding, stepped forward to pat her shoulder. There now, he said, I’m sure whatever happened wasn’t your fault. An unfortunate accident. Want to tell me about it?

Something sounded off in his words. Kristie took a couple of deep breaths to steady herself. I was driving down the hill, and as I rounded the curve—right there—this man ran out of the trees, right in front of my car. I braked and tried to swerve, really I did, but I couldn’t... Anyway, I saw him rolling away. He got to right about here and then he... disappeared. I stopped and came back to see what had happened. I didn’t realize there was a drop-off. I can’t see him now, but he must have gone over.

The heavyset man stepped forward and stopped at the brink of the down-slope, leaning out to scan the shrubbery below. Sweat plastered the back of his green sport shirt to his back. Can’t see a thing. Too many bushes. Reckon we better go down and check it out.

Don’t you have a phone? Kristie asked.

The heavyset man shook his head. Can’t get no signal up here. You have one?

No service. Do you have a car? Kristie asked. Is it nearby? The sob she managed sounded pretty convincing even to herself.

A couple miles up the road. The blond man was probably close to Kristie’s own age of twenty-six. I’ll go get it, he offered.

I think we’d better see if we can find our friend down there, the older man said. He might be seriously hurt and needing attention.

The blond walked to the edge and looked down. Could be hours.

We need the police and an ambulance, Kristie said. He might be… He might not be too badly hurt. She tried to put some bright hopefulness into the words.

The two men exchanged a glance, and then the older man nodded. Good idea. Why don’t you go on? Town’s six miles up the road, you can get help there. In the meantime we’ll see what we can do for our friend.

You know him? she asked.

Yeah, we know him. The blond man’s dry words reinforced her suspicion he wasn’t grieving.

The heavier man threw a dark glance at his companion before adding, The three of us came out earlier. Someone reported a mountain lion killing stock, so we were looking for it. He thought he heard something and went running off to check. I warned him to be careful.

I didn’t mean to hit him. I really didn’t. She struggled to make her lie sound more convincing than his.

It wasn’t your fault. You couldn’t help it. His tone was patronizing rather than soothing. You go on now and get to the sheriff. We’ll look for him.

Kristie wandered over to the car. She pretended to have trouble starting the engine, hoping they’d begin their search before she got it cranked up. But though the blond man swung himself over the edge, the heavy man waited, watching her until she put the car in gear and drove off. In the mirror she saw him move to the edge, then she rounded a bend and lost sight of him.

A sudden, stabbing ache in her head made her suck in a sharp breath. Not now, she thought. Please, not now. Kristie drove another half mile, pulled to the side of the road, and waited, hoping the pain would subside quickly. Instead the pounding in her head increased to jackhammers-on-pavement level. She fumbled in her purse for ibuprofen and downed the tablets with a swig of very warm water from a bottle.

She dug out her cell phone, but there were still no bars showing. Coverage had been spotty for the last few days, depending on where she was in the mountains.

How long would it take the men to get to the bottom of the ravine? Would the heavy man even go down, or would he leave the work to the other? And what if they’d been wise to her deception all along? If that were the case, she’d left the stranger in the lurch. Worse yet, they’d be waiting for her when she went back. But she felt pretty sure the blond man bought the story entirely, and the other one hadn’t given any sign of doubting. He’d waited to be sure there wouldn’t be any witnesses to whatever they planned to do when they found their quarry.

And why was she even considering going back? She knew nothing about the man she’d nearly hit except that he was injured and frightened.

Kristie stared at the marble-sized, faceted crystal ball dangling from her rearview mirror. Its shimmering depths held no answers, not even a suggestion. This was crazy. She wasn’t even sure the stranger would wait around for her return. And the throbbing headache made her want to go back to the hotel and settle down for a nap.

She put the car in gear. Before her foot hit the accelerator, though, The Voice spoke. She’d heard it before, but only on a few occasions. It wasn’t literally a voice speaking in her head, nor was it exactly a vision, though it had characteristics of both. Voice was closer because she did get words with some fuzzy knowledge/pictures attached. She’d learned to listen to it.

"He needs you, it said. You have to protect him."

Protect who? she asked aloud. She stared into the rearview mirror, looking for someone nearby, but the back seat and the road around her were empty. Of course. Protect? How? And who?

"You know who. Dammit, she did know, no matter how hard she wished otherwise. You’ve got to help him."

Help him how? The Voice had always been right in the past, but it didn’t always make clear what she should do when it gave her a mission. It tended to be clearer on what needed to be done than on how.

"Protect him. He fights a great evil, but he doesn’t realize how strong it is. He doesn’t know he can’t do it alone. You have to help him."

I’m a photographer, she responded. I don’t fight great evils. I take pictures of them.

"He’ll die if you don’t protect him."

Protect him—how?

No answer.

Right! she protested. I’m supposed to protect someone I don’t know from something I don’t understand in ways I don’t have a clue about. I don’t suppose you could be more specific?

Apparently it couldn’t. Her question got no answer, no response of any kind, except some increased throbbing in her head.

This really isn’t a lot of help, you know. She said it louder this time. And still got no answer. That was it—the end. No more information was coming.

She sighed and took another swig of water from the bottle.

Ten minutes should give them time enough to get so far down they couldn’t easily or quickly return to the top. She couldn’t believe she was doing this. The seconds stretched out to torment her. She strained her ears for some sound from back down the road but heard nothing.

It seemed to take forever, but the last few minutes ticked off. Kristie started the car, executed a smooth U-turn, and drove back the way she’d come. Her headache began to lessen as she got closer to the scene. None of the men were in sight when she drove cautiously around the bend just before the area where she’d left the stranger. She pulled across the road onto the shoulder, stopping the car at the point nearest the rhododendron thicket he’d crawled into. After shifting the car into park, she tossed her camera bag and notebooks onto the back seat.

When nothing happened for several long, nerve-stretching moments, she debated her next move. Should she get out and look or just drive off and leave the whole mess behind her? The man had lost blood and was in pain. He might have passed out. Or he might have given up on her coming back and crawled off to find what shelter he could on his own. Probably he hadn’t expected her to come back at all. Sweat gathered at her temples and rolled down her chest under her blouse. The other two men would surely have heard her car return and come to investigate. She didn’t want to think about what might happen if they saw her.

Just as her nerves were about to give way completely, a flash of movement caught her eye. The man sprang out of the shrubbery and rushed toward her. He all but fell against the door, and she had to wave him around to the other side, then reach across to unlock it for him.

The stranger collapsed into the Toyota’s passenger seat and slumped there for a moment, breathing in loud, labored gasps. Drive, he ordered as he pulled his legs inside and yanked the door closed.

Any place in particular?

He shook his head, then let it sink back against the headrest. Away from here. The grayish cast of his brown skin suggested injuries and exhaustion catching up with him. Kristie put the car in gear and swerved back onto the road.

Chapter Three

Her headache faded out, but anxiety took its place. She knew nothing about the man in the seat beside her. For all she knew the two chasing him might have been sheriff’s deputies or cops or even FBI agents. Except that the message from the Voice and her gut feeling about those other two men combined to make her doubt it.

The man in the other seat was taller than she’d realized, and he had an air of toughness or hardness that was scary enough all by itself, even tempered by his battered and exhausted condition.

And there was still the possibility that the men who’d been chasing him might have seen her pulling away with him in the car and come after them. For the first five minutes of the trip she waited to hear a shot come from behind or a car pull up. It didn’t happen. But even as one worry faded another took its place.

Where’s the nearest hospital? she asked when she’d put a few miles behind and wondered what to do next. She’d done her bit to protect him, had stretched