The Hunter

The Hunter

I’m going to hunt today. I’m skipping out of work, avoiding my wife and going for a hunt. I’ve had this planned for quite a while, months really. Once I found the maintenance tunnel in the boiler room that lead out to the street, I knew I had to use it for something big. Today is that something big.

I woke early this morning as I always do on work “days” because I work the graveyard shift as the maintenance man down at the McGinty chicken rendering plant. Its light work and I can usually hide for most of the night in some corner of the plant that nobody knows but the maintenance staff, I can’t stand the smell of the place and often find I need a break from it. I hopped in the shower, but no soap, no shampoo, just cold water to prepare myself for my hunting ritual. I kissed my wife goodbye, then whispered in her ear “goodnight deer”, (my term of endearment is my joke about our anniversary being the last night of deer season) and left for work.

My heart is racing as I pull up to the road next to the plant and mix in with everyone else as they come in from the parking lot, filing past the guard. Tonight I made the extra little effort and spoke to Jerry the guard as I passed through the gate. I punch in, put my cell phone in my locker and walk quickly to my “office”, really just a desk in the corner near the tool locker. Mr. Rodriguez the floor supervisor came by as he always does right after the start of my shift and gave me a rundown of all the equipment needing attention. Of course boiler 2 was on that list and I told him I’d be working on that immediately. I say of course because I broke it last night, so I could fix it tonight, knowing that Billy Rowe the day guy couldn’t. Billy was an idiot and if he even tried to work on that boiler he would probably make it worse, fortunately I told him to leave it for me to take care of.

Mr. Rodriguez trusted me and would never even bother to look for me unless there was an emergency and in the rare circumstance that would occur I’d tell him I was out getting a wrench from my car or make up some other excuse. When he left, I move swiftly to the boiler room and in to the tunnel, out to the street and finally in to my car.

I drive as quickly as I dare to my hunting spot, which was on my land. I put on my camouflage; grab my bow and the arrows I made specifically for this trip. Moving through the woods silently to my hide, I catch my first glimpse of the buck as he ambles up the path. I wasn’t in position yet and so I had to pass up this opportunity. Everything has to be perfect for this hunt.

I sit back in my hide, and wait for the next chance. The moon is full and there is a gentle breeze coming up from the path I saw the buck on. I smell the smoke from my chimney. This concerns me only for a moment as I see movement. It’s not much, but I still see it in the corner of my eye. As I look I recognize it’s just a tree moving in the breeze and I focus on that path again. He should be moving out of shelter soon, he’s a creature of habit and I have his habits down to a science. The young male has been courting a female for some time now and all males know that we will follow tail to the ends of the earth. The female is bedded down on that path just ahead. He can’t resist the female and neither can I.

Time is running out, I need to be back to get the time stamp on my timecard. I force myself to relax, if the time runs out this was never meant to be. My hunt must be perfect, every detail has been accounted for. Then off in the distance I hear a snap, I look up, I see him. I see he has found his female, but she wanders back in to shelter. I draw back on my bow, a few more steps just enough to make sure he doesn’t make a dash. A breath, another and let it all out, then release. My arrow flies true, through the throat of the beast. He takes a step, then another and then falls. Not quite dead, but life slowly releasing its hold on him.

I move quickly to the buck’s side, silently so as to not spook any other wildlife. I cut his throat to end his misery, and then because I don’t have time to string him and gut him, I make quick preparations. I dig a shallow grave I’ll be back soon to finish, hopefully no other animals will be aroused by the smell. I want the carcass whole, but I take my knife and remove his ear, an old trick so that a hunter can claim his prize in case another hunter decides to also claim the kill as his. I pocket the ear and move to my staging area, where I toss the camouflage and arrows in to a pre-dug hole, once again so other hunters don’t steal. I put the ear in the trunk with my bow and boots, hiding the ear in the toe of the boot so as not to upset my wife if she decides to go shopping. I shower using a set of wet wipes.

I drive quickly once again to the plant where I slip in through the tunnel, just in time to hear the whistle. I turn a valve on the boiler and it is once again working as it should. I wipe dirt on my face and hands from the boiler room floor, don’t want to look clean and cause Mr. Rodriguez to suspect I was screwing off.

I grab my phone from my locker, clock out and head through the gate. My hunt was a success, my absence from work unnoticed, I walk to my car and drive home. This time I take my normal pace, blend in with the crowd. As I pull up on the dirt road to my house, I see red and blue flashing lights. My heart leaps in to my throat and I worry that somehow my hunt has been spoiled. A state trooper has me pull off to the side of my driveway and as I step from the car I ask “Is everything okay? My wife is she..?” The officer is quick to reply “sir your wife is fine, but do you know a fellow by the name of William Rowe?”

Damn it, I think to myself, I know that name, my mind races confused by the question. “Um sure Billy, from the plant.” I finally say. I laugh “What’s he done?”

The officer coughs slightly “sir, Mr. Rowe has been killed, he was shot with an arrow, his throat cut and then the sick bastard cut off his ear” and as if he just remembered “where have you been sir?”.

The hunt was complete, perfect and I knew it. I want to tell him the young buck wouldn’t be seen rutting with my doe in my woods again, I want to scream it to the world instead I hear myself say. “I….I was at work, had to fix the boiler tonight.”