This is a piece I wrote a few years ago for a wrighting contest. With this one I had the benefit of a professional editor taking the time to look over the piece. It should be noted before reading further that I didn't win the contest. And am expecting a lawyer from playboy to be calling me any day now.

The Puff Piece

The Hunter

He could feel breath upon the back of his neck and the eyes staring him down, he knew he was some where near by. The stench of American flesh was invading his senses. The gun was leveled at the hunter..s eye line as he spun in a slow, methodical circle, looking for even the slightest hint of flesh or movement among the foliage. A rustling of leaves gave off the position, and before the prey could move, the shot was off. The bullet ripped through the flesh of the beast leaving only destruction in its wake. The boar fell to the ground, the force of the fall sending leaves and vermin scurrying. Most hunters would have been joyous at this kill. He wasn..t he had grown tired of killing animals long ago. That was when he turned to Ortez, an old collage friend. Ortez headed a cartel of drug runners in the hills of South America and always in need of an experienced killer.

That was three years ago. If he was a less patient man he would have lost count of his kills by now but as it was would never forget any of his. Each one meant a great deal to him. It still sounded strange even to him to say that a death he caused meant anything to him, but in truth they always did. The noise of the hit and the hunter..s crashing pain brought reality back to him.

The hunter could feel the weight of his opponent forcing the air out of his lungs and pushing him into the mud. Before he could regain his sense of self the prey was gone. But a clear path had been cut by the hunted..s escape.

The Hunted

The pain in his leg was causing him to lose his balance. The fall had caused more anguish than it seemed to be worth. He was taking refuge in a place unseen by his attacker. He couldn..t explain why he was being targeted; he was just a reporter trying to do his job. A puff piece on South American tourism, it was really only supposed to be a vacation. Then a strange series of events began to unfold. It seemed like one minute he was having an odd conversation with a fanatic looking man in a bar, and next minute he was being chased through the jungle by a crazed mad man. He had told the first guy almost immediately that he couldn..t help him and that he should call the police the guy looked panicked and ran off.

Two Days Earlier

..Hey, are you an American?.. questioned the stranger as he sat down next to the man and nervously looked about the room.

..Yeah, I..m an American,.. the replied, scanning the same places just examined by his fellow diner.

..And you..re a reporter?.. he questioned once again. He was still checking out the room, now in an even more furious manner seeming to look for unseen villains.

..Yeah, I..m a reporter I work for....

..I don..t care who you work for. Listen, I have some information about the drug dealers down here... He spoke in a harsh whisper as he continued to look for the ghosts of his past.

..I don..t think I can really help you. Like I was saying I work for Playboy magazine... He paused a moment, looking about the room for his waitress. ..You should probably go to the police if you have information about the drug trade,.. he added as the waitress came by with his check.

An Evening Alone

The room was quite as he sat there watching the headlights cast brightness into his room with passing vigor. He could hear the news from the television in the next room and was half listening to a story about a local man who was found tortured to death. The local cartel run by Jesus Ortez was suspected, he was trying to block out the noise from the blaring TV, but was not doing so well. Finally in an effort to spur his creative juices, he decided to head across the street for a drink and maybe a sandwich.

The Pub was poorly lit but the food was tolerable and the wine was above average. For the most part his trip to Bolivia had been fairly successful. He hadn..t seen any rampant drug runners cruising around in armored jeeps shooting, at anyone who moved. In fact the people where fairly friendly and the food was very good. The only problem was his lack of inspiration about how to describe the country he had seen so far.

As he walked back to his hotel he could see the door to his room was open and there were men walking in and out as if a body had been found inside. ..Excuse me, Se..or... Called out one of the men as he walked out of the room, ..are you David Fikes?..

..Yes, I am.. David replied as he slowed his pace. Before he could further question the stranger, three men rushed towards him, first grabbing then dragging him down the hall and out of the hotel to a waiting car.

..What the hell is going on here? Who are you people!.. he screamed as he was forced into the car.

..That is a very interesting question David... Replied a voice. From the dark corner of the car, David saw a shadowy figure. ..My Name is Dr. Robert Filby, but you can call me Phil...

..Where are we going?.. David questioned as the car began snake its way through downtown traffic.

..We are going to a little resort, well off the beaten path. Don..t worry though... The shillotee was emblazed momentarily as the figure lit a cigarette, and took the first drag. ..As long as you help me out, all that your going to do is relax, have a few drinks, and maybe even get laid...



The Room

The room was nothing short of a nightmare. There were terrifying instruments of torture mounted on every wall and solitary chair with restraints sitting in the middle of the barren floor.

..I really wish you would have helped us, Mr. Fikes, It would have made things a lot easier,.. said Dr. Filby as he walked around the chair now occupied by a drugged and beaten David.

..I told you, he said he had some information on the drug trade and I told him he should call the police...

..I wish I could believe you, David... Filby stopped circling and lifted David..s suede wallet. ..This is a pretty young lady in the picture here. What is her name David?.. Filby slowly removed the picture from the wallet. Turning it over he could see a name clearly written on the back. ..Clara - that..s a very pretty name, David. Don..t make me hurt her...

Motioning to his left arm, David replied ..OK let this arm free and I..ll give you the address where I..m housing the information...

..Sure David, that..s fair enough, I..ll release one of your arms and in return you..ll tell me what I want to know... Dr. Filby then reached around and untied David..s left arm. But he underestimated David..s strength and will to survive.

..Sorry Doc, but I don..t think I should stay here any longer... David grabbed the evil doctor by his throat, and began to squeeze with all the force he could muster. Tears began to well up in David..s eyes as he witnessed the life drift for Filby..s face. ..Oh, please god forgive me... David sat there for a moment, staring at the doctor..s dead body. The tears had flowed for only a moment when he began to hear voices outside the room.

The Gun

..David, I can smell you. I know that you..re near... he cooed as he scanned the jungle. ..I must say that I am impressed. Not many people get this far when I hunt them. Most are dead by now... He continued to survey the forest line, carefully eyeing every leaf, and twig. Then he saw the movement he was hoping for, this time higher than before. ..I see you, David...

..This isn..t exactly fair now is it... David spoke as he moved out of the jungle revealing himself. His injured leg was dripping blood, forming a pool of dark red at his feet.

..Who ever said hunting was fair?..

..Even deer have a weapon... David responded as he shifted his stance to relieve the pressure from his injured leg.

..Only male deer have antlers... He responded back in an attempt to mute David..s defense.

..True but all deer have a natural swiftness... David mused motioning to his wounded leg.

..That is very true, David... He slowly began to pull the trigger on the shotgun he was holding to David..s head. ..You have given a good chase. It has been exciting hunt. It..s a shame you have to die now... With this and a hollow click, the trigger was completely depressed. Nothing happened.

..Well maybe it..s your lucky day after all, David. Have you ever had a duel?.. Tossing the shotgun aside, he reached behind his back and withdrew two 9mm Glocks.

..Are you serious?.. David asked as one of the guns was handed to him.

..Yes, I am serious. You said you wanted things to be fair, now there fair, Now there fair.. He paused a moment, checking the handgun to verify that it was indeed loaded and ready to go.

..Maybe we can reconsider this, I..ve never really shot a gun, I..m not normally a violent person... David clamored as he was mimicking the actions of the man who is standing across from him, in loading the gun.

..That..s OK, I..ll use my left arm... The hunter seemed happy and comfortable, as if he was in a situation seemed to enjoy. ..It will make it more fair. I am, after all, an excellent shot, but I..m not ambidextrous...

..But I have never shot a gun before in my life. Why don..t you just let me go... pleaded David as he flexed his grip around the butt of the gun. ..I wont say anything to the cops I just want to go home...

..No I cant do that, Because then I would have missed a target and I never miss... The man then turned walked back ten paces before turning again to face David. ..David this will be much easier for you if you click the safety of.

..I really wish we could reconsider,.. David replied once more as his opponent began to take aim.

..On the count of three we fire, is that clear... The man called out.

..One..Two.... But before the final number could be called out, David squeezed his trigger, sending the bullet fling toward its target. The shot his its mark and his opponent slumped against the tree behind him, and said ..You were supposed to wait ..til three... He then looked down at the bullet wound in his chest, and as he sensed his life slipping away, he whispered ..Good show, David Fikes, good show...

Local Denizens

David walked through the jungle for the next day and a half until he came upon a small village inhabited mostly by what appeared to be guerilla warriors. ..Can anyone help me I am trying to get home... He called out as he walked further into the village.

....Quien es?.. Cried out one of the men leveling his gun at David.

..Are you David Fikes... Called out one of the men as he began to walk towards David, with a high powered rifle in his hands. As the man got closer David realized he was an American.

..I don..t know if I want to answer that... He replied moving his hand closer to the pistol tucked into the back of his belt.

..I..ll take that as a yes. We heard Ortez wants you dead... The man replied. ..Roberto, ..l es un amigo... With that the man ready to fire on David lowers his gun.

..Well, yeah, that would be me then... Still wary of who he was dealing with, he moved his hand closer to the pistol..s grip.

..Well then in that case, you are welcome here... The man replied walking towards David.

..Your not going to beat me up are you... He questioned as he began to slowly moving his hand away from his gun.

..No where not going to beat you up... The man replied getting closer to David and putting his arm around him.

Weary and tired David questioned ..Who are you?..

..Who am I David? I..m nobody, I..m not even here right now... The man replied leading David over to one of the huts.

Home

Home never looked so good to David. His nice little studio apartment was looking much more hospitable than usual tonight. Walking across the room, David could see the lights on his answering machine blinking wildly with 32 messages. David began to walk over to it, to play back the calls but decided against it.

The shower was cold and forgiving. But as the water began to get warmer. Its warmth cooling his body in ways he never thought possible. The dirt was washing off, slowly. The blood, on the other hand, would never truly be gone. Although David had killed two people in the past week, law enforcement ruled he was defending himself and thus he had done nothing wrong. It almost would have been easier for him to have been charged with the crimes; then he could at least begin to feel absolved.
The Days Following

In the days following his return David was inundated with job offers and book deals. People actually thought he was a better writer because drug dealers had held him captive. As to writing a book, why in God..s name would he want to write a book describing the past few days. He had thought about turning it into a short story, but who would want to read that? The only thing he really needed to worry about now was finishing his piece on tourism.

The Puff Piece

..I was recently on assignment in Bolivia, researching tourism in the small South American country....

The End