The Hunt

“Is he the one?” A old photo someone had found in his tent was all they had to go on, but anyone from the Collective would have recognized him….Marcin. He didn’t draw attention to himself, but he definitely wasn’t someone you could trust. He was the worst of us, Cas thought; exactly the type of person people would expect this from. Ezra looked solemnly at the picture and nodded. As dangerous as the insurgents were, defectors could be even more so. They had no allegiance and no protection. Mid-escape they couldn’t count on assistance from the insurgents and they knew their treachery would illicit no sympathy from the Collective. Getting out was high stakes. And if they were willing to risk everything for it, chances were they weren’t going to go quietly.

It was Cas’s job to guard the eastern gap; she’d been a guard for four years. It had been her on post that night.

Jane was thirteen, probably almost fourteen, years old. Ezra, who had been guarding the southern gap, found her on his way back to camp and rushed to notify the others. Jane’s mother’s scream cut through the entire forest. When Cas heard it she had been in her tent, and she felt herself go cold. It was so piercing, so anguished she could feel it in the back of her throat as if it had come from her own body.

As Cas and the rest of the team headed out, she looked back at Jane’s house; her promise echoed in her head: We will find him. We will bring him back. A price must be paid.

Would that be enough? It didn’t feel like it. They’d barely been keeping their head above water as it was. The blows just kept coming. There was no time to recover, no time to breathe. And now Jane.

Still, she marched purposefully towards the southern gap. There were six of them in the group. Marcin had occasionally come out with them on hunts, and it felt strange to be pursuing him now. But they were resolved. When Ezra returned to camp to inform them of Jane’s death, he told them he had seen Marcin in the woods near the southern gap that night. It wasn’t unusual for Marcin to walk alone at night, but the gaps were off limits. As soon as Ezra told them, Cas could feel the blood pulsing in her ears. We will find him. We will bring him back. A price must be paid.

Marcin had an eight hour head start and was more familiar with the terrain than any of them; undoubtedly this was not his first time outside the borders. Marcin was arrogant. He didn’t trouble himself with the rules of the Collective, but he would now. Cas would make sure of that. When the rain started they decided to make camp for the first night. They had been making good pace and if they had to stop, so would he. Still, sitting by the fire and looking into pitch black woods that enveloped them, Cas felt uneasy. She would not sleep that night. Every stir would reignite her senses. When was the last time she slept through the night? Before the shift? It had been so long she couldn’t even remember.

They would have no peace while he was out there.

She rose the next morning before the sun. The only part of her that felt refreshed was her rage, which she had stoked throughout the night along with the fire.

Three days later, despite moving at a grueling pace, they had gained no ground on him. The only evidence indicating they were on the right trail were the remains of his campfire they would find each day. Something he could easily have covered up, but chose not to. If they didn’t catch up to him soon he would make it to the Pass and be beyond their jurisdiction. And yet his path was not a straight one. If his goal was the Pass it would make the most sense to head straight south, but his tracks indicated he was lilting to the west; almost as if he was making the start of a large circle. The others noticed this too, but attributed it to his madness and left it at that. Cas wasn’t so sure. Even in a group of six with substantial arms they were in danger being this far from the Collective for this long. If Marcin wasn’t in the Pass by now, it was because he didn’t want to be.

The skies were clear when they made camp the sixth night. Cas didn’t bother pitching her tent. She sat up next to the fire staring into the distance. Amidst the wall of blackness she thought she could see a tiny flicker of light.

She would have no peace while he was out there.

On the seventh day, something strange happened. When they came across his campfire, it was still burning; his supplies still scattered around. It was barely two miles away from their own campsite. The six of them separated to sweep the area. It didn’t make sense for him stop here, so close to the Pass. After about two hours of searching, Cas stopped near a fallen tree; the rest of the group was far out of sight, and she could no longer hear their movements in the distance. She leaned against a shagbark hickory. For the first time in a week, she began to feel the effects of not sleeping. When she first saw Marcin, she thought she might be dreaming. Did he know they would split up? Did he know she’d find him first?

His eyes met hers and he fixed her with an unwavering stare, and in that moment it was clear: he knew, he knew everything, he had probably always known. For what seemed like an eternity she stood paralyzed, unable to do anything but stare back. She shifted her weight from one foot to the other, then moments later shifted it back. When she refocused on her surroundings she realized at some point the shifting had turned into stepping and she had walked back to their campsite. When had he left? Had she left first? She didn’t even recall turning around. She crawled back into her tent; the others were still searching, but would likely return soon.

The lack of sleep had drained the last of Cas's energy; she could no longer keep the intrusive thoughts at bay. The memories of that night forced their way to the forefront of her mind.

It had been a long day at the end of a long week. Cas had been going on her third night of guard duty. The whispers of a second wave of insurgents had become more frequent, and the Collective had barely recovered from the first. The first wave, while effective, had no doubt been less successful than the insurgents had hoped, and that was only because the Collective had been tipped off days before. It was unlikely they’d allow their second attempt to be expected. Guarding the eastern border of camp was usually uneventful, but Cas took her job seriously and was always prepared. As she faced the gap she heard the steps coming from the direction of camp. It seemed impossible someone could have gotten behind her without her noticing. She had to be swift and silent; insurgents hardly ever came alone.

The realization was slow. It had been so dark that night, and the canopy of trees was so dense at the eastern gap. She could only make out a rough outline of a figure dashing in her direction. It was when they collided that she first registered the build of her assailant, shorter and smaller than herself. They struggled for only a second before Cas caught a firm hold of them from behind. When she pulled their head back she could feel their hair was soft and baby fine. It felt wrong. There was resistance, but it was weak and resigned. Not a killer. As she reached up with her other hand and plunged her knife into the jugular, she saw something smooth and reflective sparkling on the ground. Even before she released her fingers she knew it was too late. The girl’s limp body crumpled to the ground. She recognized the necklace almost immediately. It was a small heart shaped locket; it’s gold plating was chipped and it had a broken hinge that prevented it from closing completely. It wasn’t worth much, but such things were rarities since the Shift happened. And Jane wore it all the time. She had been looking for Banx, a small cat she had adopted after its mother had abandoned it near one of the camp's rain barrels. But Cas wouldn’t learn this until the next morning.

When Cas heard Ezra mention seeing Marcin by the southern gap, it had seemed like the only option. There was no way he could have made it from camp to the southern gap without passing her, and she had no way of knowing what he had seen. Until now.

Cas stiffly leaned back on her cot. She had been sat there for twenty minutes or more without letting her muscles unclench. Probably they wouldn’t even find him, she thought. Probably they wouldn’t give him a chance to speak if they did. She was sure they would never believe him. And yet she felt her fingers tracing the locket in her hand, weighing her options.