Felicity Heaton
Copyright © 2006 Felicity Heaton
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form or by any means mechanical, electronic, photocopying, recording or otherwise without the prior written consent of the publisher, nor be otherwise circulated in any form of binding or cover other than that in which it is published and without a similar condition being imposed on the subsequent purchaser.
The right of Felicity Heaton to be identified as the Author of the Work has been asserted by her in accordance with the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988.
First printed October 2006
First Edition
Layout and design by Felicity Heaton
All characters in this publication are purely fictitious and any resemblance to real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.
ISBN (pdf version only):
1-906023-08-5
978-906023-08-9
Hunter’s Moon – Felicity Heaton
What the hell did they think they were doing?
Scott Hudson leaned against one of the upright posts on the porch of his cabin with his arms folded across his chest and watched the hunters moving through the
trees. He listened to their loud laughter and chatter, and shook his head when one of them accidentally fired off a shot. He sighed. After all these years, he still couldn’t understand why the city types insisted on coming to his mountain and disturbing his peace with their drunken
hunting. Didn’t they realise the dangers of the area, and carrying a gun when under the influence? If someone
got killed tonight, it wouldn’t be the first time, and he was getting tired of the inquests. The local police knew he had nothing to do with it, but they still insisted on questioning him every time a bunch of suits got it into their head to get drunk in town and get killed on the
mountain.
When he’d first arrived in this part of the world all those years ago, he’d thought that being two miles from the
nearest town would buy him a little peace, but it didn’t.
He glanced up at the bright hunter’s moon that was
bathing the world in a silvery light and then at the
mountains on the horizon.
Turning his back on the falling night, he walked into the cabin and closed the door. He locked it and then drew
the little curtain aside and checked that the hunters
were gone. Seeing no sign of them, he moved to the
windows, drawing the drapes so they shut the world out.
He kicked his boots off beside the door and then walked across the wooden floor to the fireplace. Taking hold of 1
Hunter’s Moon – Felicity Heaton
one of the irons beside it, he stoked the embers and
threw another couple of logs on, watching the flames lick hungrily up their sides.
He sighed and looked at the door again.
There was nothing good to hunt on the brink of winter
anyway. Only the wolves remained high up in the
mountains and they’d be somewhere safe tonight
because of the approaching storm. He’d been watching it on the horizon when the hunters had caught his
attention. It was going to be a big one. They’d not had much snowfall so far this autumn and it looked like
tonight it was all going to come at once.
If the idiots didn’t kill each other, then the weather would.
He supposed he should go after them, but it wouldn’t get him anywhere. He’d done that once a few years ago and
after nearly forty minutes of arguing with them, he’d
realised it was hopeless. There was no talking sense into them. He was better off just keeping out of their way
and letting them sober up and realise that a mountain
like this was no place to be at this time of year.
Walking across the room, he moved between the
armchair and the couch and went over to the cupboard
beneath the staircase. He pulled the door open, removed a glass and a bottle of whisky and poured himself a good glassful.
He sipped it while he moved back to the fireplace. Sitting down in the armchair, he listened to
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