Jase & the Deadliest Hunt (14 page)

WINCHESTER GUIDES YOU
to a large meeting room with a huge table in the middle holding a scale replica of the island. On the walls surrounding you are mounted animal heads. You see a massive deer with enormous antlers, then a tiger, then a full-size bear in the corner.

“These are some serious animals staring at us,” you say.

The four of you approach the model island, probably about twenty feet tall and twenty feet wide.

“This, of course, is an exact replica of our island, Tabu,” Winchester begins. “Here you will note the island’s distinct features.”

“Here’s where we’re at,” Willie says, pointing to the building on the edge of the mountain.

“There are six places you may hunt in. You must hunt as a
group. Unless, of course, you accidentally become separated, which is bound to happen sometimes.”

“Why’s that?” you ask.

He seems not to have heard. “You will observe the six different sections here as I point to them. First of all, the largest section of the island is the jungle. You can see that right here.”

Dense trees cover the vast majority of the model. It looks like a massive place to hunt.

“Right in the middle of the jungle, basically cutting the island in half, is a river that goes from here to here,” Winchester says, indicating this with his hand. “On one of your days here, you will be hunting along the riverbank.”

“What happens if we wander off and head into the woods?” Cole asks.

“Good question, young man. There will be no need for you to do that.”

“But what if we do?”

“Let’s just say it would be a bad idea.”

That sounds a little ominous.

“Will we know what we’re supposed to be hunting?” Willie asks. “I mean, what if I’m on the river, and suddenly a bear comes in view?”

“The creatures you end up hunting will gladly make themselves known. And if an animal from an area you didn’t choose wanders into your zone, well, the more the merrier. Isn’t that the saying?”

Willie still appears a bit perplexed, and you probably do too.

I just want to know what I’m hunting.

But you can hear Missy’s voice in your head:
“This is part of the fun, Jase. Come on and go with the flow. You wanted epic.
This
is epic.”

“So the jungle and the river are two of the locations,” Winchester continues. “Then, on the side of the mountain, there’s a cave
 
—you’ll be hunting in there too. And farther up, you have the mountain itself
 
—Mount Fear.”

“Mount
Fear
?” you ask. “Why is it called ‘Fear’?”

“Mount Happy wouldn’t sound like a particularly thrilling place for hunters to track down animals, would it?”

“I guess not,” you say.

“The fifth area is the beach. Right along here, on the north and west sides of the island.”

“Hunting on a beach?” you ask.

“Could be worse,” John Luke points out. He looks pretty excited about the idea.

“Listen,” Willie says.

You roll your eyes at him. “I’m just saying . . .”

“Shhh.”

Winchester continues. “The final area is right here, a place you have already experienced.” He is pointing at the lodge complex, the very same one you’re currently standing in.

“Are you saying there’s a hunt on the property?”

“That’s right.”

“What would we hunt for here?” John Luke asks.

“That’s the point, John Luke,” Willie answers. “To discover what we’re hunting for. Right?”

Willie finally seems to get it. But you still have no idea how you’re going to hunt for something in the place you’re staying.

“You will have dinner with the count tonight, and afterward he will give you some more guidelines for the hunt. I hope you make wise decisions about it.”

“So you’re sayin’ there are bad decisions we can make?” you ask.

“I never said the word
bad
,” Winchester replies. Then he smiles. “Shall we continue?”

If you haven’t been to the weaponry room,
go here
.

If you’ve been to the weaponry room,
go here
.

YOU ENTER THE ISLAND LODGE
and come face-to-face with an animal head on the wall that you’ve never noticed before. It’s a koala bear.
Yikes.

The count is waiting for all of you right outside the dining room, and he gives you a strong handshake.

“Good job, gentlemen,” he says, his bald head looking extra shiny tonight.

You point over your shoulder. “Did you shoot that one?”

“The koala? You know, most people think they’re warm and cuddly. But they can be quite fiery.”

“It looks really sweet from here.”

“How did your bear look today?” the count asks, smirking.

“We didn’t exactly have time to study his facial expressions, did we?” Willie says. “I gotta say
 
—I’ve never seen a bear that big. And I haven’t ever seen a bright-red bear either.”

“The animals on this island are unique. That’s the reason the hunting expedition can always be an unpredictable thing.”

“Where do all these animals come from?” John Luke asks.

“I can’t give my secrets away, can I?” Count VanderVelde wags a finger. “Is everyone ready for dinner?”

He leads you through the doors of the dining room. Place settings line the table. Each place setting includes a container, but no two containers are shaped the same. And each setting is a different color.

“I thought we’d have a bit of fun tonight,” the count says. “Before tomorrow’s hunt.”

“Fun? Are we gonna shoot our dinner too?”

The count laughs. “You are a funny man, Jase Robertson.”

“He’s more funny when he’s not even trying to be,” Willie adds.

“Tonight I’m going to serve you an island delicacy. I trust you will enter this dinner with an open mind and an adventurous stomach.”

“This can’t be good,” you whisper to Cole.

But you must have whispered kind of loud, because the count responds. “It’s very good. It just depends on what culture you happen to be from.”

“We’ve eaten some pretty exotic fare,” Willie says.

“Yes, I imagine you have. Well, I’m letting you
choose
what you eat. Except, well, you won’t know what you’re choosing.”

“Let me guess.” Willie points to the table. “We have to pick a color.”

“Yes.”

“Red, orange, yellow, green, or blue.”

“The rainbow,” John Luke says.

“Yes. Makes it easier to remember.”

Which color do you pick?

For red,
go here
.

For orange,
go here
.

For yellow,
go here
.

For green,
go here
.

For blue,
go here
.

OH, SEE WILLIE AND JASE.

Oh, oh, oh.

See Willie and Jase run.

Oh, see Willie and Jase run with daggers in hand.

Funny, funny Willie and Jase.

Chasing a funny, funny golden duck.

Oh, see the golden duck.

See how it flies.

See the golden duck fly every time Willie and Jase come close by.

Funny, funny boys.

Come, Willie and Jase.

Come see.

Come, come, and see.

Come see the golden duck fly, fly away.

“Look,” says Jase. “See it go. See it go up.”

See Willie.

See Willie and Jase run.

See Willie and Jase run back home empty-handed.

Oh no.

See them go.

THE END

Start over.

Read “Let the Good Times Roll: A Note from John Luke Robertson.”

YOU TAKE A SIP
from your camo-patterned canteen, which matches the pants and T-shirt you’re wearing. The shotgun in your hands is lightweight, just like the pocketknife and .38 you’re carrying as additional backup for the hunt. Willie is point man, and so far it seems he’s gotten y’all lost.

“You need me to take over?” you ask.

“No. I got this.”

“I swear I think we’ve gone in one big circle,” you say.

“I swear I think you’ve already said that,” Willie replies.

The sun is a scorcher today. It’s one of those days when you feel like you’re wearing a rug on your face. ’Cause, well, yeah, you sorta
are
wearing a rug on your face. But it’s a handsome rug and makes the face all the more attractive.

“Hey, I think I spot some tracks,” Willie says.

You and the boys come beside Willie and look down at the dirt he’s staring at.

“You think
that’s
an animal track?” you ask.

“Yep.”

“It looks like a footprint,” Cole says.

“That’s right,” you add. “It looks a lot like the back of my boot!”

“No, it doesn’t.”

“We’re totally backtracking.”

“No, we aren’t.”

“We’re going to find nothing out here with you leading.”

Right then you hear something that is either a wild animal having a bad case of the stomach flu or your own stomach about to give the good ole heave-ho.

“What’s that?” Willie asks.

“Sounds like Uncle Si when he’s angry,” you say.

They all laugh, but the noise continues. It’s getting louder.

“Whatever that thing is, it’s absolutely the
worst
sound I’ve ever heard.”

Willie is looking around, his shotgun pointed at the ground. You study the round barrel that’s attached to it, containing the 12-gauge, double-ought shells.

A thought crosses your mind for a random, fleeting second.
The barrel of that thing’s pretty close to my
 
—

Chaos comes stomping out of the trees in front of you.
Then the blasts start going off, and you feel the worst pain in the world in your right foot.

He shot my foot! Willie shot my foot!

You hear the automatic
boom-boom-boom-boom
right in your ear. Something low and thick and heavy and lightning fast barrels past you like some kind of lone ranger.

My foot is shot off
 
—my foot
 
—I can’t feel my right foot!

You go to the ground as the automatic shotguns rip and tear up the trees and foliage around you. Yet you can still see the thing moving.

It’s a gigantic hog.

The meanest, ugliest hog you’ve
ever
seen.

Its face looks like a bunch of intestines stuck together. Rolls and rolls of them on top of an ugly, goober-wet snout and ears that stick out.

It chases Willie for a minute as the boys fire their shotguns at random.

“Stop shooting!”

They finally run out of shotgun shells, and Willie finally finds a tree to run up. You manage to stand again and see the wide, ugly backside of the hog wiggling into the woods.

That thing moves like a cheetah.

Hunting for an oversize hog that runs as fast as a cheetah isn’t
anything
like what you were expecting.

The hog disappears just like Willie did. You hobble over to the tree he’s hanging from.

“You
shot
me!”

He peers down at you. “No, I didn’t.”

“
Yes
, you did. Look! You can see my boot. It’s all cut up.”

“Well, what was your foot doing there?” Willie asks.

You shake your head, then turn on the boys. “And what were you two shooting at? The birds and the bees?”

They glance at each other and shrug.

You realize that you probably need medical attention since you’re starting to feel kind of light-headed. Oh, and yeah, there are little red-and-orange dots coming all around.

The hunt is over.

No fried pork tonight, gentlemen.

THE END

Start over.

Read “Let the Good Times Roll: A Note from John Luke Robertson.”