Hunter's Prey

Downhill

On the velvety white snow-covered mountainside, I took a few breaths to steady myself. The crisp air filled my lungs as I readied for the last stretch of the hike. Setting up was never the fun or easy part, but it was always the most necessary. It was the foundation for the whole mission. In my case, my sniper-assassination approach would be heavily dependent on the setup but would ensure I’d be able to get off the mountain before the storm hit.

My target, Richard Baines, was on one of the more populated sides of the mountain, but his nearest neighbours were still over a kilometre away in either direction. I had studied his floor plans as well on the brief travel over here. While I had no way of knowing where he’d be in the house, I planned to nestle into the mountainside facing the west side of his manor. The west side was partially embedded into the mountain itself, but the exposed parts had large widows with clear views into his outside garden and patio, his kitchen and living room, as well as the master bedroom on the second floor. It was safe to say, once set up, it shouldn’t take me very long to have Baines’ blood splattered on his floor and walls.

The plan was to continue up the main path on foot until she was above Baines’ manor. Then I’d drop down to the nearest vantage point to nestle in for hunting. Leaving my ATV nestled to the side for safekeeping, I hiked the few meters to her drop zone. The cold didn’t bother me as much as it normally would have thanks to the provided winter wear. The Organization had magical seamstresses, who enchanted the weather clothes for their appropriate climate. In this case, my thermal leggings and shirt properly adapted to and regulated my body temperature. The white camo outerwear was enchanted to be completely wind and chill-resistant, preventing any snow or frost from building up.

Keeping a regular temperature made the hike much more comfortable, and soon enough I was looking over the ledge at the Baines Manor. Looking down the side, I spotted just what was needed about a meter below. I pulled off my scoped rifle and gently tossed it down the ledge below, it landing with a soft thud.

I stood, but hearing the rapid crunching of snow caused every muscle in my to tense and instinctively dodge with enough time to avoid the initial shove off the side. My attacker attempted to kick me but I just rolled away and got to my feet. My attacker lunged, this time we interlocked arms and struggled. I was able to keep my balance, but my opponent was stronger, and much wilder. We continued to struggle as my attacker slowly pushed me towards the edge before breaking the interlock and shoving me over the edge.

I could feel myself going weightless as I fell. Stretching my arms out to catch the ledge I was about to jump onto moments before, but my last saving grace brushed past my fingertips.

The rest of the way down was quickly met by a hard impact, barely softened by the snow. I felt my shoulder dislocate from its socket as I began to roll. My jacket was quickly shredded by sharp and jutting rocks as I rolled and bounced past them.

After hitting my temple on a rock and falling off of another short cliff, I could feel my arm snap as I landed in the snow, finally still on flat ground. Based on the areas of pain, I knew there was no hope of moving. So I didn’t. I lay there peacefully at the bottom, feeling only the harshest parts of snow and cold. Even the Organization’s very intensive torture training had done nothing to prepare me for this, I would cry out but there was no air left in my lungs. Even if there was, there wouldn’t have been a point.

The cold began to cloud my senses. Was this really how I was about to go out? Just another agent in an uncaring Organization, MIA? What a sad ending to this bloody story. I let out her last conscious breath before accepting death.