Part 6

The brisk morning air had no affect on the two sweating men who were working quickly putting rocks and large branches along the top of the overhang. A rope fence supported the rubbish, preventing it from falling off until the trip mechanism was activated.

As the sun was slowly rose above the mountainside, it illuminated the white mist of dew as it slowly ascended toward into the sky, creating the pastel colors fall was so well noted for. It had been only a few hours since they had left the cabin, but for the men it had been an eternity. Time and Morgan were catching up with them.

Another man drug up a limb, his hoarse breathing alerting Peter to the older man's deteriorating condition. Sweat and fever combined with Paul's already pale skin to give him an appearance of being made of wax. The cool morning air helped to bring the fever down, but not enough to soothe Peter's growing worry.

Kermit assisted Paul with the long limb; its smaller branches with green pine needles would help blend in the trap with the mountainside. Pinecones stuck out; some even fell off to get underfoot.

Relieved of his burden and no longer able to stand, Paul slumped to the ground. His every breath brought more pain to his chest; each breath was hard won. He berated himself for not being able to continue helping.

When Kermit and Peter went off to find more branches, Paul took out his small pistol. It fit easily into his hand. He felt the smoothness of the wood, remembering when he had first got the weapon. He tried to hold the gun in his right hand, but the shoulder wound had damaged the muscles that controlled his fine movement. He could ignore the pain, but not the trembling of his hand. Paul then tried using his left. 'Maybe Peter will teach me how to do it when we get out of this mess.' It felt awkward. The index finger didn't fit well onto the trigger. Paul sighed in disgust and put down the weapon.

Concern was written on Kermit's face as Paul came out of the shallow cave. Kermit heard the rattle in Paul's breathing and saw the continuing spread of blood from his friend's shoulder wound.

The plan now was to hunt Morgan, but first they had to find how many people were looking for them. "I'll be back in…" looking at his watch "…thirty minutes."

"Wait a minute, Kermit. I can scout just as well as you can," Peter stated, his voice tainted with anger though he didn't know why.

Peter couldn't see through Kermit's sunglasses well enough to notice that the man was rolling his eyes. "Look, Kid. You may be able to find your way through Chinatown, but HERE is my domain. Here, if you leave a broken branch, you leave us open to being found by Morgan," Kermit answered, stating the facts through clinched teeth.

The two men glared at each other.

Peter was the first to give in. Kermit's reasoning had sunk in. "I'm sorry, Kermit. I just-just want to get Paul to safety, and the only way we can do it is to get Morgan. I need to do something besides wait here for that maniac to get us."

Kermit placed his hand on Peter's shoulder. "I know, Peter. I want that, also. But remember that Morgan made a living out of hunting people down and killing them. He had a place in Africa where he…would hunt people like big game hunters go after elephants."

Paul watched the exchange. He remained silent, knowing that the lack of sleep and food was causing nerves to be on edge.

"What I need you to do, Peter, is to go back the way we came and make sure that nothing is out of place. Be careful where you walk. We need to make Morgan think we went in a different direction," Kermit explained, and watched as Paul nodded his head in agreement. "Paul, you stay here. Can you fire a round if you see any danger?"

"That's about all I can do," Paul mumbled, briefly feeling self-pity. He didn't want to endanger the other two, so resigned himself to stay at the shelter.

The trail was easy to find after Kermit found the dead body hanging from a tree. Climbing into the tree, Kermit cut down the body. Then, using the rope that had held the dead man, he made another noose trap in a tree closer to the path of footprints the morning dew revealed.

An idea came to Kermit, a way to keep both Peter and Paul safe, and maybe even let himself get out of this alive and with his hair. The thought of being scalped caused him to run his fingers through his thick dark hair. Hunting around, he found the materials he needed, then set to work.

"Here, drink some more water," Peter encouraged Paul. It hadn't taken him long to trace back their trail about 200 yards and erase most of the evidence of their walk. They had been careful to not break branches or twigs in the trees and underbrush on their way up to the shelter. Peter hoped that the broken twig leading down another path would have Morgan chasing after no one.

Sitting with his back against the rear of the shallow cave, Paul fought wave after wave of dizziness that made his stomach churn. The water Peter forced him to drink threatened to come back up. He had refused the dry cereal Peter had brought with them.

"Kermit…should be…back…by now," Paul panted, wanting to get Peter's attention off onto someone else. He wasn't used to people protecting him, only him taking care of others.

"Yeah. Don't worry, though. He can take care of himself," Peter answered as he tended to Paul's shoulder. As soon as the words left his mouth, he regretted saying them to Paul. 'Damn, maybe I should just tell him he's a nuisance, also.'

Paul frowned, feeling he had disappointed his foster son, afraid of becoming less in Peter's eyes. "Unlike me."

Peter looked into the steel blue eyes, seeing the tiredness and self-pity Paul was feeling. "Paul, you have always taken care of your family and friends. You took me in and loved me as your own son, not caring that I had an attitude that got me in trouble every turn I made. I wouldn't be here if it hadn't been for you. Kermit wouldn't be here. Hell, Paul, you have done more for those around you than the Pope."

Hearing the words Peter spoke was hard, comprehension of them even harder. "Don't talk…about the…Pope," Paul smiled weakly, watching Peter's expression go from worry to relief. "Then…go…help Kermit. I'll…be fine."

Torn between staying with Paul and looking for Kermit, Peter looked again into Paul's eyes. They pleaded for him to leave, to trust Paul and save Kermit. "All right. But, you promise me you'll stay in here. I don't want you stumbling over the tripwire and getting trapped under all that stuff. Mom would be very upset if I let anything else happen to you."

Paul smiled. "Yeah. It's OK…to let me get…shot and…drown…but not…crushed."

"That's right. She can only accept certain injuries." Peter returned the smile, then got up to leave.

"I think…she's used…to you…being hurt. This may…come as a…shock to her."

Turning back at the entrance, Peter answered, "Maybe we should have taken out life insurance. She may kill us if we get out of this."

Morgan signaled silently to his assistant to stop. He listened for any sounds out of order. He heard the creaking of wood, dismissing it as his eyes caught a squirrel on a tree limb chewing on a nut.

The sound of cawing and wings taking flight brought up Hislop's gun. He fired a shot, and for that received a fist to his chin.

"What the HELL do you think you're doing!" Morgan hissed, attempting to control his volume as well as his temper. He needed this man to help bring in Paul and Kermit, then to go after Blake.

Hislop rubbed his chin, grinding his jaws together to check if anything was broken. "It was an accident, Morgan!" he apologized. This had started out being a well-paid game, but had now turned into a horror show. A stranger had approached him and his cousin only a month earlier, giving him $50,000 to help with a hunt. At the time, they hadn't known that they were to hunt humans, especially cops. Fear of being killed by either Morgan or the stranger kept Hislop there, his nerves causing him to jump at any little sound.

"You do a stupid stunt like that again, and I'll personally cut you up and feed you to the vultures! They could be anywhere right now. You're supposed to be a tracker, get tracking." Morgan growled making a vow that when he met his benefactor; he would discuss hiring qualified people for a job.

A quick nod and Hislop started looking. They had gone back to the cabin and started over. A small break in the dark pine needle carpet excited Hislop. "Someone slipped here. They went this way."

Their only other clues to the prey's trail were a few broken branches and a log laying off to one side with a rope cut in its bark. Hislop's cousin lay 50 feet away, covered with brush and pine needles. Morgan and Hislop continued to search, unaware of someone watching them.

Kermit was setting his spring trap when Peter came up behind him. "I think you need to get a new battery for your watch."

Turning around with slow ease, Kermit stared at his friend. "Yeah, well maybe I should just go back using my old sundial. These modern watches seem to be slow keeping time. You get the trail fixed?"

"Yeah. I made it look like we took a different route. You find him?"

"Oh, yeah. Has one other man with him. Did have two, but one met with an - unfortunate - accident," Kermit answered, a wicked smile spreading across his face.

Peter looked at the deadly spring trap. Three logs, each about five inches in diameter, were tied together. Between the logs were smaller limbs and sharp rocks, all fitted snugly and securely. The three base logs stood vertically, tied to a horizontal limb that was pulled down from a tall tree. A rope secured the base and its arm. A slipknot prevented the device from moving before it was needed.

"Well, maybe if this works, we can get Paul to the hospital. I'm hoping Blake's watch runs better than mine," Kermit replied, finished with his trap.

"He know about Morgan?"

"Oh, yeah."

The sound of a gunshot caused both men to look around as birds took to the air. The mixture of caws and screeches from the various birds filled the air as the shot resounded throughout the mountains.

"Morgan." The one-word statement was all that needed to be said. Both Kermit and Peter thought of Paul, knowing he would now worry about both of them, and possibly try to 'help' them. "Better get back before Paul does something we might regret," Kermit stated. He checked the spring one more time, then headed back to the shelter with Peter beside him.
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