Man Hunt Read Online Free PDF Page B

that insistent," Steph said. But I think you and Rachael better go before lunch. "Said she wants an update on your numbers or some shit."
    "She's such a control freak," Josie said. Steph nodded and suddenly plopped down on the tan chair next to Josie and flung her legs onto Josie's lap.
    "I was wondering," she said, "do you think Gertie is a virgin?"
    Josie was finally jerked fully awake. "What!?"
    Steph laughed. "Well, she never talks about sex . It's like she's a female eunuch or something. I dunno." She kicked her legs playfully in scissors fashion, placed her hands deferentially upon one knee, and threw a flurry of blinks at her friend. "Maybe she's just a lesbian."
    "She's a headwoman," Josie said, trying not to laugh.
    "She's a bitch," Steph countered. "Probably the queen bull dike back home in the commune where she was hatched and raised." There was a single moment of pure silence, and then they were both laughing boisterously. They did, however, hush themselves after just a few seconds of the raucous joy.
    Steph flipped her legs quickly back to the floor and was on her feet a second later. "Come on," she said. "We'll steal some scrambled eggs before checking in with Rhonda."
    Josie put the pendant back around her neck and stood to join her friend. "Another pre-breakfast breakfast, huh?"
    "Every chance I get."
    "All that cholesterol is going to kill you one day."
    "I'll take my chances. Now come on. You don't want two headwomen on your ass in the same day."
    She turned to go but Josie paused a moment before following. "Thanks Steph," she said simply.
    "Huh? What for?"
    Josie couldn't be absolutely sure about Steph sometimes. Often her friend truly didn't understand the various subtleties of life. Other times she only feigned ignorance. So she erred on the side of caution and explained, "For cheering me up. You know I hate this gig."
    Steph gave her that big-toothed grin Josie had learned was her most honest expression of joy, and laughed again. "Whatevs, bee-atch. I was just delivering Dirty Gertie's message. Don't go flattering yourself so much."
    Josie chuckled and followed her friend down the hall, her stomach already grumbling.
     
     

3
     
    On the ground floor of the fortress, in the exact center of an entirely white room sat a desk. It was enormous, and it was beautiful. A giant rectangle of polished cherrywood, it literally gleamed in the nearly sterile room. It was cleaned and buffed regularly. It was occasionally inspected and repaired of inevitable scratches and dings. And except when actively in use, it was always barren.
    Above the desk hovered a woman. She, too, was beautiful, though perhaps only in the eyes of a physiologist, for she was also enormous. Yet it was muscle, not fat, which adorned her so impressively.                Veins stood out on the backs of her hands, pulsing rhythmically as her hot blood moved through them, tight under the pressure of such malicious stock. They walked a crooked course past her wrists and up her forearms, dwindling slowly as they went. The largest survived all the way across her curving right bicep before disappearing under the mountain of muscle that screamed of power and control.
    Yet her arms were but one example of her impressive form. There was the chiseled stomach, the wide back, the trunk-like thighs and, as inevitable as revenge itself, the breasts as flat as road kill. It had taken years to achieve her envisioned embodiment of perfection. Decades. However there was something about the woman that made her somehow bigger still. This was a thing deep inside which most who encountered her detected at once. It was an extreme sense of confidence in part, but also a sense of greed, of entitlement, and of rage. It was most often perceived in the eyes. And for this woman, her eyes lacked the ability to deceive. To look directly into them meant to feel her full wrath.
    Between the desk and the woman lay a large, intricate map. Though the paper didn't