The Naturals, Book 2: Killer Instinct

YOU

Guns and neat little bullet holes and the glory of being the one to pull the trigger.

They’re yours. This time, you’re doing it your way.

The little red-haired one who practically begged you to take her isn’t looking so good. She’ll be the first to fall. Her face is already a mottle of bruises. You did that. You. The FBI agent’s face is marred with obvious tear tracks. You rest the rifle to one side and reach out and drag your thumb over her face.

She jerks back, but she can’t fight you. Neither of them can.

“I’m going to untie you,” you say, just to watch the surprise flicker through their eyes. “You’re going to run. I’ll even give you a two-minute head start.”

Take them. Free them. Track them. Kill them.

“Now…” You draw the word out and tap the butt of the rifle thoughtfully against the ground. “Who’s first?”

Adrenaline is already starting to pump through your body. You are powerful. You are the hunter. They are the prey.

“Me.” The FBI agent is the one who speaks. Doesn’t she realize she’s nothing but a deer in your target?

You’re the hunter.

She’s the prey.

You grab the younger one by the elbow. “You.” You breathe the word directly into her face. Let her shrink back from it, from you. “You’re first.” The smell of fear is tantalizing. You smile. “I hope you can run.”

YOU

Guns and neat little bullet holes and the glory of being the one to pull the trigger.

They’re yours. This time, you’re doing it your way.

The little red-haired one who practically begged you to take her isn’t looking so good. She’ll be the first to fall. Her face is already a mottle of bruises. You did that. You. The FBI agent’s face is marred with obvious tear tracks. You rest the rifle to one side and reach out and drag your thumb over her face.

She jerks back, but she can’t fight you. Neither of them can.

“I’m going to untie you,” you say, just to watch the surprise flicker through their eyes. “You’re going to run. I’ll even give you a two-minute head start.”

Take them. Free them. Track them. Kill them.

“Now…” You draw the word out and tap the butt of the rifle thoughtfully against the ground. “Who’s first?”

Adrenaline is already starting to pump through your body. You are powerful. You are the hunter. They are the prey.

“Me.” The FBI agent is the one who speaks. Doesn’t she realize she’s nothing but a deer in your target?

You’re the hunter.

She’s the prey.

You grab the younger one by the elbow. “You.” You breathe the word directly into her face. Let her shrink back from it, from you. “You’re first.” The smell of fear is tantalizing. You smile. “I hope you can run.”

YOU

Guns and neat little bullet holes and the glory of being the one to pull the trigger.

They’re yours. This time, you’re doing it your way.

The little red-haired one who practically begged you to take her isn’t looking so good. She’ll be the first to fall. Her face is already a mottle of bruises. You did that. You. The FBI agent’s face is marred with obvious tear tracks. You rest the rifle to one side and reach out and drag your thumb over her face.

She jerks back, but she can’t fight you. Neither of them can.

“I’m going to untie you,” you say, just to watch the surprise flicker through their eyes. “You’re going to run. I’ll even give you a two-minute head start.”

Take them. Free them. Track them. Kill them.

“Now…” You draw the word out and tap the butt of the rifle thoughtfully against the ground. “Who’s first?”

Adrenaline is already starting to pump through your body. You are powerful. You are the hunter. They are the prey.

“Me.” The FBI agent is the one who speaks. Doesn’t she realize she’s nothing but a deer in your target?

You’re the hunter.

She’s the prey.

You grab the younger one by the elbow. “You.” You breathe the word directly into her face. Let her shrink back from it, from you. “You’re first.” The smell of fear is tantalizing. You smile. “I hope you can run.”