The Hunt of Two

Piece Two

My body is in complete shock. I can feel the constriction of blood flow to my face. I'm not sure what I should process first. Should I focus on the fact that John had just killed another Army memeber? Should I be focused on how quick John reacted to the Army man's appearance? Should my focus be on how i just saw the laser of the man's gun on the back of John's head? Or could it be on the haunting thought that a memeber of His Army actually passed the lines of Holy ground to get to us? No. My first thought to actually fully process is the girl standing 100 yards away from me with a bow in her hand.

 I hear the heavy panting of John to my left. I look at him to make sure he's still able to function. His survival is worth more to me than air at this point; in this damned time. He is standing over the man, his chest heaving in and out as if he just competed in the Iron-Man relay. His shirt, covered with blood; Not his but the Army man's. His face looks confused but satisfied. His wide eyes look at me, as if asking, "are you okay?". I give a slight nod as I wipe the strand of sweat from my hair thats covering my face. John takes his attention off of me and looks at the girl too. She has a cold, blank stare. Her eyes looked similar to mine. Deep and black. She makes no movement, just keeps her eyes pierced on us. Her long, brown hair blows in the slight breeze that comes from the west.Thats about all I can see from where i'm at. Without the sun, its difficult to see anything more than 200 yards away from you.

 John moves suddenly, throwing me out of my quick daze and back into the here and now. I flinch as he reaches down to retrieve his machete from the laying, dead body on the ground. He pulls the arrow from the man's trapezius muscle. The arrow was buried deep and released from the bow powerful enough to wrap around the meat. John looks at the arrow as if its the head of Medusa.He looks back at the girl and gestures the arrow toward her. She looks at him with no expression nor emotion. John looks at her one final time before before throwing the arrow down and returning to the body. He slowly turns over the body. The man must have been pretty heavy considering the muscle and veins bulging from John's forearm. The body rolls over and slaps the ground with his heavy, lifeless hands. His eyes are still open, just as his mouth. The machete is stuck in his throat, deep and hard. His Adam's apple is split in two. Great shot, perfect accuracy. The blood in the air is strong and almost sickening. I look at John as he is concentrated on the body. He puts his huge palm over the leather handle of the blade. As he pulls and tugs on the blade, I hear the skin and remaining bone being ripped from the body. I try not to look too long. John has the stronger eyes. I hear his struggle stop so I slowly look at him. He's wiping the blood from the blade on his shirt. I build up my courage to look at the ground.

 The man lay face up. His neck was split wide open horizontally, and cut deep enough to see his esophagus meat hanging on to the remaining pieces of his neck. The mark of the beast that is on his forehead slowly fades away. It always does when one dies. It's His way of saying, "you failed me, therefore you have no right to my mark." I look up agian and take a quick glance at the girl who is still standing still. I look at John and he looks back at me. He gives a faint smirk. "One more down Voker. Right? We can look at it that way." I give a strangled smile back. "Yeah. We can. Nice shot. And thanks." He glances quickly at the girl then back at me. "Don't thank me. I need you around." He nudges me on the arm then gives one last inspection of his blade before fastening it back to his belt.I look in my hand at the hatchet I'm clenching so tightly to. Then, from a distance, we hear another crack of the ground. MY heart stops again. We both look nervously around as I hear John pulls his machete out once again. Then, there is an uncomfortable silence. I quickly look to check if the girl heard it as well, but the girl is gone.

"Where'd she go," John asks, still in a panic mode apparently. " I dont know. But thank God it was only her." I stop and think on what I had just said. Thank God? How could I thank God? After all of this?