A Hunter By Any Name Read Online Free PDF Page B

way of Greybull Wyoming and a bunch of back roads. When I drive to a new hunting grounds I NEVER go straight there. I always let the dart decide one major destination. Then I just meander down back roads trying to stick to major straight roads at the same time avoiding interstates. Each night I stop at a park, go for a run, eat and then sleep in the vehicle.
    It very economical way to travel but that was not the deciding factor that made me choose that way to travel. I just had to look around the hotel room I was standing in to remind myself why I didn’t like staying in dives. They were dirty and I was constantly afraid of bed bugs. All the nicer hotel chains required credit card to be on file to cover any possible damages. I had never had a credit card.
    Secondly, I don’t like eating at restaurants. They are just too crowded and I have to constantly be aware of all the people around me. Plus, it seemed like I had a natural talent for running into wizards everywhere. Worrying about if you are going to end up in a spontaneous fight for your life with a wizard is just bad for the digestion.
    So I bought food from a grocery store instead. State parks usually have fire pits or those little grills. Stew meat works the best for grilling on a stick. Plus, no dishes! Not that I have ever worried about doing dishes since I have been fifteen and had watched my mother and father die.
    My mind instantly flashed back to the night I had woke to a handsome man standing over my bed. He had soft hair that was long for a man and hung down around his face as he leaned over me. His skin was clear and looked like it would be silky to the touch. My fingers twitched wanting to touch his prominent cheek bones and to run along up into the silky skin up into his hair. At first I thought I was having a “special” dream that were all too common at that point in my life with the teen hormones racing through my body. That was until he shoved a rag in my mouth to gag me and silence my screams. He had used duct tape to tape the rag in place and bind my hands and feet.
    He threw me over his shoulder and carried me to the living room before sitting me on the floor next to my mother and father who were already bound and gagged. It had been just like a scene from a horror movie as he drew satanic symbols on my mom’s spotless hardwood floor with white chalk. He placed my father in the middle of a large pentagram before killing him, draining his blood and tracing the symbols with his blood. The whole time he chanted in Latin. Then he had placed my mother next to my father’s body. He killed her and repeated the ritual.
    After he had finished the ritual with my mother time had seemed to slow down as the wizard stalked toward me. I knew I was next. In the same instant that I realized my time had come the glass from our large livingroom window had shattered inward.
    An old man with the wrinkly scared face and long gray hair pulled back in a sharp pony tail followed the glass into the room. Then time resumed its unending march at it’s relentless pace. The battle had been beautifully poetic. A fact that never lost its irony to me.  The old man and the wizard danced around each other in a fierce battle. The sword that the old man swung through the air cut through the spells that the wizard shot in his directions sending burst of lights showering out and away from the sword. In the end the old man had won, just barely and at the ultimate price.
    The wizard had shot a spell at the old man and it had snuck past his swinging sword to hit the old man squarely in the chest. The old man paused and looked down at his chest stunned knowing what the outcome would be. The wizard let himself get cocky in his victory and had started to turn his attention back to me. The wizard realized a fraction of a second too late that the old man had come back to his senses with just enough time to launch one final attack. The old man swung the blade and the wizard’s beautiful