Free The Hunting by Sam Hawksmoor

images. Herself gathering handfuls of sand and throwing it up towards his eyes. The boy yelling with surprise. A shotgun going off very loud and someone screaming in pain. Rian waking with a sudden shout. Moucher biting the kid real hard on his ankle, followed by some frantic running towards the trees. No way was that boy going to run after them with his ankle bitten and, better yet, Genie had retrieved his shotgun from out of the water.
    Renée took charge, grabbing Rian’s hand, getting them beyond the trees. They ran across a hay-field spotted with crimson fireweed until they couldn’t run any more and collapsed in a heap by an old road. Rian was sneezing from the flowers and had a splitting headache. The lump on the side of his head was the size of a doughnut and he had cuts on his cheek, arms and legs. He was pleased to get his shoe back though, even if it was soaking wet.
    ‘How long was I out?’
    ‘Hours. We lost you. Had to backtrack the river twice.’
    Rian hugged both of them. ‘You guys should have left me. Big risk to stay.’
    Genie was looking back across the field, holding on to some wild peppermint, tasting some and savouring the heady scent. ‘How long before they give chase? His father will come back for him for sure.’
    ‘You know how to use that thing?’ Rian asked Genie as she toted the shotgun.
    She shook her head. ‘But just as long as they don’t have it, I’m happy. First swamp I see it’s going in. Everything happened so fast …’
    Renée was nursing sores from scratches she’d got from the field. She pointed towards some rabbits jumping up to see over the long grass. ‘Cute.’
    Mouch saw them but was too exhausted to give chase.
    ‘Hares,’ Rian remarked rubbing his head. ‘Too big to be rabbits. We got a plan? I hope it includes getting some pills for my head.’
    ‘You should be resting. Getting an X-ray maybe,’ Genie told him.
    Rian took Genie’s hand and squeezed it. ‘Uh-huh. We have to keep moving.’
    But they didn’t move, they all lay there exhausted and nervous, feeling guilty about not moving on but reluctant to stir. Rian kept glancing behind him.
    ‘He ain’t coming, Ri. Mouch bit him good and his foot will be hurting. I think he shot it,’ Genie said. ‘We need to keep moving, guys,’ she added, standing up in her squishy sneakers.
    That’s when she heard a car approaching. Moucher barked. Genie stuck out her thumb, only thinking about what she was doing as the car came into view. Hell, it could have been anyone driving. Cops, hunters, Reverend Schneider. Anyone looking for them. Too late to worry about that now: the vehicle slowed to a stop.
    It was a beaten-up Volvo wagon. The heavy-set woman in a brown felt hat didn’t drive off when she caught sight of Rian with his bloodied T-shirt and Renée covered in dried mud. She wound down the window and looked at them hard, as if appraising them. She didn’t seem alarmed by the sight of the shotgun or the blood.
    ‘I kinda bet you’ve got a good story to tell,’ she said. ‘Get in, put the shotgun in the back and make sure the safety is on. I don’t like guns. Where you headed?’
    ‘Vancouver,’ Genie told her, walking round to the back and opening it up. Mouch got up first and immediately leaped into the back seat. Genie placed the shotgun alongside some stout walking sticks and a box of cat food.
    ‘I’m heading to Mission. Should be easy hitching from there.’
    They all piled in. The car stank of something – some kind of herb, sage possibly; pretty overpowering.
    ‘Name’s Betty,’ she told them as she set off.
    ‘Betty Juniper?’ Genie exclaimed. It had to be. ‘Ferry’s friend?’
    The woman was more surprised than they were. She looked at Genie carefully as she climbed in and shut the door.
    ‘You know Ferry? From the gas station?’
    ‘We just dropped a letter off for you from him at Bear Island. Sorry ’bout your place. Must have been real nice before the