Read Online Hunted by William W. Johnstone - Free Book Online

have had meat if we hadn’t hunted.”
    â€œDid you have the heads of deer mounted to hang on the wall?”
    Ki laughed. “No. Daddy wouldn’t permit that. He said that was just as barbaric as a soldier mounting the heads of the enemy he’d killed. Daddy taught us to respect the animals we hunted, and the land we lived on. He said nobody could really own land; we were just taking care of it for a time. And we’d damn well better take care of it, for God wasn’t making any more of it.”
    â€œI didn’t know there were wolves in Missouri.”
    â€œThere aren’t. Not anymore. Daddy said there were red wolves when he was growing up. Until a bunch of stupid bastards killed them all out. They trapped them, they shot them, they poisoned them.” Ki cut loose with a string of cuss words that would awe a barroom filled with sailors.
    Stormy poured Ki a martini and handed it to her. “You really get all worked up about wolves, don’t you? I’ve never seen this side of you.”
    Ki said, “Let me tell you something about Craig. He’s a top reporter and a gentle and good man. He loves animals. But there is a side to him that most people don’t know. He was a marine in Vietnam. More than that, he was Marine Force Recon. Back in the Second World War, those guys were called Raiders. When we were winding down the story on wolves—up in Alaska—we were sitting in the hotel lounge having a drink when this bunch of dipshits came in and started bragging about the wolves they’d killed that day. Stormy, they shoot them from planes and helicopters. They chase the animals until they’re exhausted and then shoot them. For sport. That’s the type of hunter my daddy taught me to despise. They kill just for the sake of killing. Well, Craig had a few words to say about that, and the man invited Craig to step outside. Stormy, we were in Alaska for five more days, and that guy was still in the hospital when we left. Craig stomped him into the ground. One of the loudmouth’s buddies stepped in to take up for his friend, and Craig broke his arm—at the elbow—with some sort of martial arts move. Craig is an easy-going man; you know that. Just don’t make him mad.”
    Stormy sipped her martini for a moment and then asked, “You don’t believe in gun control, do you, Ki?”
    â€œNo. Absolutely not. I know you do, but you’re wrong.” Ki smiled across the small and carefully built fire. While Stormy was blond, Ki’s hair was as black as midnight. Stormy was tall; Ki was almost petite. But Ki had been raised on a working farm, and was strong for her size. “You really want me to get wound up this evening, Stormy?”
    â€œI withdraw the question, Ki. Let’s save it for another time. Right now, let’s eat. I’m ravenous!”
    * * *
    At dawn, the mercs split up into six two-man teams, spread out, and began working their grids. But they were still miles away from Darry’s cabin. It was slow work for the manhunters, for they did not know what Darry looked like, or really, even if he was in the area. The one thing they did know was that he lived alone. The hunt was on. The mercs thought they were alone in this hunt. They were very wrong.
    * * *
    The man who had outfitted Stormy and Ki drove up to the ranger station. “Don’t send any more people to see me, Rick,” he said. “I’m nearly out of ridin’ horses and pack animals. I never seen so many people gettin’ outfitted for the wilderness.”
    â€œReally? So early in the season? Hell, we’re just into spring! We’re not ready for the influx yet.”
    â€œTell me about it,” the outfitter said drily. “But these ain’t tourists, Rick. I don’t know exactly what they are, but they ain’t tourists.”
    â€œYou want to explain that?”
    â€œCan’t. It’s just a hunch.