Free Maps of Hell by Paul Johnston

woken it up. I stopped and ate the rest of the bread, aware that I might have been making a big mistake. Then I saw the rabbit.
    I raised the rifle slowly to my shoulder. I was about to squeeze the trigger—with no compunction this time—when I realized that firing would give my location away. I watched helplessly as the rabbit hopped back into the undergrowth. I swore quietly. Even though I’d have had to eat the flesh raw, it would have given me some much needed protein. I decided I’d risk the shot. I was waiting for the animal to reappear when I heard the unmistakable sound of a dry branch cracking. Either there were larger creatures in these mountains or my pursuers had caught up with me.
     
     
    I considered running, but from the sounds I could tell they were too close. I had to choose a position and make a stand. But not on the ground—I had to assume there would be more than one of them. I looked around for a suitable tree and found one with a larger than average trunk. I pulled myself up until I was just below the cover provided by the top of a shorter tree before me. Then I pushed my head slowly through the pine needles and scanned the area.
    At first there was no movement apart from small birds. Then I saw a figure in gray emerge slowly about fifty yards to my right. Shortly afterward, another man appeared, this one to my left. Both were carrying assault rifles like the one I had. I was relieved that there was no sign of the dog. A third man came into the open almost directly in front of me. I’d chosen my spot well. All three would have to cross the open area between the trees. I slipped the safety catch off my rifle and brought the stock up to my right shoulder. Then, looking down at the men, I saw something that made my stomach clench.
    The man in the center was looking at a small device and making hand movements to the others. Those movements were directing them right toward me. How did he know…? Then I understood—there must have been a bug somewhere on me. I ran a hand over the rifle, but found nothing obvious. Shit. The bug could have been anywhere, given that I’d stolen everything I had. I considered stripping and leaving it all behind, but quickly dismissed that idea. They were close enough to hear me move. If I didn’t act soon, they’d be so close they couldn’t help but discover me.
    I brought the rifle up and trained it on the man with the receiver. He had to be dealt with first. Before I pulled the trigger, a vision of Dave flashed before me. He was smiling. I felt myself smile back, and then I fired. I missed the device, but hit the man’s wrist. The receiver flew up in the air as he dropped to his knees. I turned to the man on my right. He had stopped halfway across the dead ground. I flicked the rifle to automatic and let off a burst that peppered the ground in front of him. He turned tail and ran, leaving his rifle on the ground. I shifted my aim to the third guy. He was already heading back into the tree cover. I went back to single fire and let him have one a foot behind him to send him on his way.
    Slipping down the tree as fast as I could, I hit the ground and started running. I had probably bought myself half an hour at most. I needed to stretch that and then find a place to hole up. My next priority was to locate the bug.
    After about half an hour of uninterrupted running, I slowed to a walk and looked at the rifle, pistol and water bottle again. Nothing out of the ordinary caught my eye. I ran my fingers over my clothes. Again, nothing was obvious. That left my boots. I stopped briefly to check the soles. They appeared normal, though there could easily have been something hidden deep down.
    As I picked up my pace again through the pine trunks, an unpleasant thought struck me. Maybe the bug wasn’t in my boots or clothing at all. Maybe it was under my skin.

Nine
     
    R ichard Bonhoff was in gridlock on the Beltway. It was late afternoon and the low autumn sun was giving