“Y-yes, I guess so.Look, it’s not a big deal.Lots of people do it.”Trak brought the knife up to bring directly into the man’s heart but Striker stopped him.
“Wait.”Trak eyed his friend, his desire to kill the man palpable to all.“What about the women?”
The man’s eyes got big, a sense of panic covering his face.
“I asked you a question, mister and I won’t be nice the second time.Why are you screwing with the women and why hunt down the Miller boy.”
“It wasn’t me!I swear it wasn’t me!” he said again.“Th-the guests, the folks who pay to hunt, they wanted entertainment, like strippers or hookers.We didn’t want that trouble and we needed to build up our population at the compound.The wives are getting older and we had more boys than girls, so we didn’t have a choice.”
“Didn’t have a choice?” frowned Striker.“You sick son-of-a-bitch, there is always a choice.You sent your sons and daughters to be abused, raped, and killed by these men all for money.”
He shrugged, as if he didn’t care at all.
“We need the money.”
“Are you stupid?” asked Trak almost shocked by the man’s lack of compassion.
“I’m not stupid!We want to buy more land, make a bigger compound and attract more people.These animals are old and soon dead anyway.I’m not sure what the big…”
It was the last word he spoke.The knife slid into his chest, piercing his heart.Trak let the body fall, face forward into the dirt and then stared at the house burning to ash.
“Where are Luke and Gaspar?” asked Trak.
“I’m here.Dad’s headed out to the area in the foothills with a few men.I’m going to head to the forest with the others.The animals that were here are safe.He was speaking to someone on a walkie talkie.We need to find them.”
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
“The cameras and fences are offline,” said Mike staring at George.They both looked up, seeing the smoke from the fire at the main house.
“Something is wrong,” whispered George.“We leave them here, telling them we’ll go get the truck while they keep skinning the zebra.”
“What if they talk?” asked Mike.
“We’ll be long gone.”
****
While groups of men raced to get the animals off the property, Trak, Remington, JB, and a few others sought out the hunters.When they came across the carcass of the animal that had been skinned earlier, they were stunned into silence.
“They are not even using the meat,” frowned Trak.“This isn’t for survival or food, this is pure poaching, stalking, and murder of a fine animal, or in some cases, not so fine.It’s not even a fair hunt.”
“Let’s track them down,” said Remington.
The men took off in the direction they believed the hunters were, Trak at the helm of the hunt, identifying human, animal, and mechanical tracks.As they dipped into a valley, they noticed several men standing over what appeared to be a dead zebra, attempting to cut the hide from its body.
The men skinning the animal were so inexperienced and inept, they didn’t even notice the pack of wild male animals walking toward them.A dozen yards from where they were bitching about skinning the animal themselves, Remington cocked his rifle and cleared his throat.
“I suggest you put that knife down now, or my friends are going to get very, very angry with you,” sneered Remington.
“Wh-what?Who are you?We paid good money for this!” yelled one of the men.“Where did the others go?”
“I don’t know.Maybe you tell me where the others went,” said Remington.
“They said they were going to get a truck to help us but that was like twenty minutes ago.”
“Did you walk out here?” asked Joseph.
“No. We all had four-wheelers.They took two and the others belong to us,” said one of the men.“Hey, we paid for this.It’s legal and everything.They had a license.We saw it.”
