The woods and slopes of the historic old mountain had once belonged to the Greater Huntsville Land Trust. Until thirty years ago, it had all been available to the public, with hiking trails, a state park, and hundreds of acres of virgin forest to explore. Growing up in South Huntsville, he and his friends had once played for hours in those woods. For a kid living on the outskirts of the city, it was about as close to the country as you could get, a convenient escape from the clutter and noise of town, an urban wonderland of nature in their backyard. There were trees of all shapes and height for them to climb. There was an abundance of animals to marvel at, from deer and rabbit to lizards and birds. There were even caves and an old abandoned limestone mine. It was truly a young explorer’s paradise.
That was before the greedy bastards had claimed the mountain for themselves. They called themselves the Monte Sano Forever Green Society, and they were a consortium of powerful politicians, wealthy aerospace executives, and high-tech entrepreneurs who’d prospered from Huntsville’s economic windfall in the Great Space Rush. Hell, he’d probably done his share to make more than a few of them rich. Labeling themselves “preservationists,” they’d hid their greedy scheming behind a noble facade, claiming they only wanted to “insure that a great natural treasure remained pristine and pure.” They’d greased the right palms down at the State House and the County Courthouse and before you knew it, why hell, the bastards owned themselves an entire mountain.
And how did they insure the pristine condition of it all? They built themselves fine, extravagant mansions and turned the mountaintop into their own private playground, exclusively for their families to enjoy. They bulldozed centuries-old trees and destroyed precious natural habitat to build pools and a golf course. At the foot of the mountain, an electrified fence was constructed to discourage any interlopers from the city below. Remote-controlled laser turrets operated by paramilitary security contractors added another layer of urban defense.
It was that damnedable fence he hated so badly. To him, it was symbolic of everything that was wrong with Earth. The rich and powerful, the politically corrupt and the corporate greedy locked themselves away in armed compounds, insulated from the rest of the world. A world where everyone else made do the best they could, while the deck continued to be stacked against them. And most of the time, their best fell way short. A world that these bastards living up there on the hill high above it all had created. He looked to his rag-tag little company of fellow fugitives. All that bitterness and hate had to be pushed to the rear of his thoughts for the time being. The two in the cab of this truck were depending on him now. They had to be the ones who mattered. Time and fate had a funny way of rearranging priorities. Even Lulah had to take a backseat for now. Suddenly the most important female in his life was one he’d known less than twenty-four hours.
In the rearview mirror, Amber stretched lazily, like a cat ready to purr. She caught him eyeing her and gave him a soft smile, nothing alluring or seductive, more an expression of gratitude and appreciation. He smiled back, warm and genuine in his affection for her. Whatever came out of all this, whatever happened with Lulah now, he could not deny the feelings he felt for Amber as well. Going through something like this, danger and life-and-death situations have a way of pulling people together, creating emotional bonds. She was quickly becoming a very special person to him. It might not be love, but it was a warm, fuzzy feeling like nothing he’d ever felt before for someone he’d known less than twenty-four hours.
Except for Lulah.
And yet, he could not be sure of his feelings, as he again pondered Amber in the mirror. As far as I can tell you’re nothing but a living, breathing, furry, adult toy. A playmate for rich pervs. Yet, I’ve risked my life and the life of others tonight to save you. I wish I knew the truth about why. Is it what I see when I look in your eyes … or is it the chemicals you fill the air with when you want to mate that makes me feel the way I do?
What is your story? The whole story. The one still hidden. The one that has somebody willing to pull out all the stops to get you back. Bad enough to send some sure ’nuff trophy hunters after your ass. Bad enough to kill in cold blood and wreck a hotel just to get to you. I’ve seen guys like that before. They don’t come cheap. They’re cold. They enjoy this shit, hunting people down, doing whatever it takes … it’s all a game to them, a deadly game, but a game all the same. He tensed inwardly. And they won’t give up.
Beside him, Jocko was busy on his PDC, although what he was doing, Tiger had not a clue. Maybe he was reprogramming the gun drone, tweaking its software in order to better protect them. Maybe he was looking at porn or playing a game. With Jocko, who knew? He had the mind of a genius and the maturity level of a hormonal teenager. He was irresponsible, sensitive, and a loser in most people’s eyes.
Not Tiger. He’d known Jocko all his life. He’d defended him against the playground bullies in grade school and the rich, muscle-bound-jocks later on in high school. If it hadn’t have been for Tiger, the poor, awkward boy wouldn’t have had a friend in the world during those years. That never seemed right with Tiger. Everybody should have a friend. Even kids with no social skills, who coped with their inadequacies by spending too
