Before Evil

Chapter 1

1 Shenandoah County, VirginiaHe pushed himself to go faster. Sweat dripped from his brow. He was in good shape, just out of practice. The excitement and adrenaline made his pulse race. It had been some time since he had hunted in this forest though he knew the deep and hidden paths by heart.

Down close to the water there were huge oaks. But up here, the pine trees grew so close that he had to sidestep through them. The crossbow felt heavier. It slowed him down despite looping the strap over his head and onto his left shoulder, so he could let the weapon ride across his back. Still, it kept getting snagged on low branches, jerking him backwards. He reminded himself that he’d done this dozens of times. He was just a bit rusty. And it was a new crossbow, better than his old one. Faster. Laser beam fast.

The sporting goods clerk assured him that 75 to 125 pounds of draw weight would be more than adequate to drop a whitetail deer at moderate ranges.

“How fast?” he’d asked the man.

“Fast enough.”

But the man had only glanced at him as if he were some ordinary guy and not an experienced hunter.

“I need enough weight for an initial velocity of at least 300 feet per second. That’ll give my arrow enough kinetic energy to reduce the arrow’s trajectory, increase accuracy and cleanly take down my prey.”

That’s when the man stared at him. A smile slowly crept across his face.

“The state of Virginia doesn’t have any regulatory minimums or maximums for draw weight,” the man told him.

“Bigger is faster.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Let’s go to 200.”

The man simply smiled again and nodded, now recognizing that he was dealing with no ordinary hunter.

Ordinary men were often underestimated. Most of the time he considered it a gift to be seen as ordinary. He liked that he fit in, that he looked like he belonged. Others tried too hard to be noticed. He strived, instead, to blend in with the crowd—or in this case, the landscape.

A fog had started to move in like wisps of clouds sinking from the sky. Now on level ground he shuffled his feet making the pine needles sound more like squirrels playing rather than a predator’s stalking footsteps. From this viewpoint up above he already had the advantage, but being an expert hunter meant knowing your prey. Predicting every move. He’d been watching and observing for days. This stop along the creek was a safe haven. The water ran crystal clear over the rocks. It was the perfect place to quench a thirst.

He scouted out the area the day before and got to work. He created a rock-solid rest to balance the crossbow. The scope sight was at the perfect level when he kneeled down. He had c****d the weapon before his hike, confident that the three built-in mechanisms would prevent it from dry firing. All that was left was to slide a bolt on the shelf, slip off the safety and aim.

And wait.

It didn’t take long. Through the fog he saw movement down below and he smiled to himself. Just three days and even out here in the middle of the woods, routines were formed and followed. Routines provided comfort. They could ward off fear. But they made you predictable.

His pulse began to race again. The hairs along the back of his neck stood up. Every nerve ending seemed to come alive as he stayed hunched in position. This is what he had been missing for too long. This glorious swell of excitement that ignited all his senses.

He kept his fingers in place, ready and waiting as he watched through the scope.

Seconds turned into minutes.

Patience, he told himself and tried to ignore the sweat sliding down his back. He didn’t move a muscle. He didn’t blink. He watched as his target eased slowly into the crosshairs of the scope. The fog had grown thicker making it difficult to see, but he concentrated on the one flash of color he recognized, he depended on.

Holding his breath he took aim. He knew he’d only have one chance.

Laser beam fast.

He watched the arrow hit. A clean shot straight through the leg.

He smiled again.

Three days ago when this game began, he’d told the woman that she’d probably regret buying those fluorescent orange running shoes.

Two weeks later