Chapter One: The Thrill of the Hunt
Rodney tugged at the straps of his backpack, pulling the bag closer up onto his shoulders. His feet on the pavement made little sound as he walked at a brisk pace, and frequently turned his head to check back down the road. The route he had chosen to take home from school was not direct, it took him nearly halfway around the neighborhood out of the way, nor was it scenic, nor any other pleasant or convenient thing. The reason he had taken this route was to avoid coming face to face with some fellow seniors from his high school, a group of boys who since elementary school had delighted in hounding, harassing, and tormenting him. A chance encounter with the boys would inevitably lead to Rodney lying sprawled on the ground, his face smeared with dirt, his arms sore and red, and his eyes stinging with the effort of holding back tears. Above him, the bullies would laugh and mock him, spit on him, kick him, tell him to get up and fight. He never did.
They never took it too far, never left permanent marks or inflicted serious damage. They knew exactly what they could get away with and not be detected. It was unfortunate for Rodney that while he was another faceless, mediocre-level student who declined to participate in any extracurricular activities and was given little notice by teachers, his bullies were all senior athletes, a few of them on honor roll and members of student council. There would be no justice from the school faculty if the bullying was ever even brought to their attention. So, once the group has decided Rodney had taken enough torment for a day, they would leave him to wipe his face clean, rearrange his clothes to hide the bruising, and head home.
Once home, however, Rodney felt safe as he did like nowhere else in his life. He lived with only his mother, Hannah, who loved Rodney more than anything. Waiting for him each day, she always had a snack ready, a kind word, was enthusiastic to hear about how his day was and what he had done and learned, not that he was particularly honest about all aspects of his school life. He liked to keep things compartmentalized. Go to school, endure; go home, heal. He couldn't help feeling happy when he was home with his mother, watching a movie or playing a board game with her. He wondered sometimes if she were as happy as she appeared, spending all her time at work, giving up her mornings and afternoons as a receptionist, then choosing to forgo the extra pay to come home early to care for him. He didn't dwell on it though, he was glad she valued him that much, since nobody else did.
There had been a horrible event two weeks ago, in which Rodney, on his way home, had been accosted by the bullies at a corner a few blocks from his house. The five of them had advanced, grinning and hollering at him. Rodney never ran, he could never outrun the boys, but something had made them stop. A car, turning onto the street, had stopped and rolled down the window. Recognizing his mother's car, Rodney had watched as she leaned out of the window and gave him a cheerful wave, smiling as she had asked, "Are these friends of yours?"
Rodney had forced a smile, not wanting her to know the truth, and replied, "Sort of...we're in some classes together."
Hannah waved at the bullies, giving a pretty smile as she looked at them. One of the bullies, Dane, had come up beside Rodney and held out his hand. Rodney had watched as his mother took his bully's hand and shook, beaming at him.
"It's nice to meet you, Mrs. Bell," he had said, his eyes fixed on her.
His mother had laughed and said, "Oh, it's Ms. Bell, but thank you! It's nice to meet you too!" Turning her attention back to Rodney, she said, "I'm heading over to the store, but I left your snack on the table. I'll be back soon!"
Giving Dane a polite smile and waving to his friends as she passed, Hannah had rolled up the window and driven away, leaving Rodney standing in the street with his bullies. Once the car was out of view, Dane elbowed him in the side and said, "Damn dude, you never told me your mom was so smoking!"
By that point the bullies had surrounded him, and one of them, Noah, had laughed, "A total milf! I'd love to get a piece of that ass!"
"Did you see the dress she was wearing?" said Lucas, "I bet she hasn't got any panties on underneath."
The bullies laughed disgustingly, and Rodney had felt his face redden, his blood boiling at the way these foul oafs were talking about his own mother. But he didn't dare argue, didn't dare fight back or stand up for his mother against his tormenters.
That event had been what caused Rodney to seek a different route home, terrified more of a repeat encounter between the bullies and his mother than any threat to himself. So caught up was he in reliving the memory and wishing Dane and the rest would drive off a bridge that he failed to notice the sound behind him until too late. By the time he heard the car approaching, it was already within a hundred feet. Recognizing it as Noah's, his mind raced at once with thoughts of evading capture. To his left were brambles and barbed-wire fence, no good. To his right was a grassy field. Perhaps with a head start...
He bolted, his feet pounding on the hard earth as he ran. His backpack bounced awkwardly on his back, heavy books thumping into his spine. He heard the whooping of the bullies as they pursued, and before he was halfway across the field something massive collided into him from behind, sending him flying forward to the ground. He caught himself on his elbows and tried to turn around, but someone had seized his backpack and yanked it off his shoulders. He heard it being tossed away as tall figures surrounded him. A pair of hands forced him back down, shoving his face into the dirt, a foot was placed on his back.
"Hey Rodney, you thought you could fucking outrun us? You couldn't get away with a ten minute head start."
It was true. Dane and Hayden were both on the football team, and Lucas ran cross-country. Still, he said nothing, knowing better than to argue once he had been caught.
Someone knelt down beside him, grabbing his hair and making him turn his head to look. It was Dane, smirking viciously at him.
"You been paying attention in bio?" he asked. It was an odd question, given the context.
Panting from the exertion of running, his head pounding, Rodney replied, "Yes?"
"Good," said Dane, "I love that shit, food chains and habitats. You know how they talk about survival of the fittest, I have no fucking idea how you've survived this long."
Rodney said nothing, trying to catch his breath and hold back tears.
"Know how Mr. North was talking about predators and prey and niches and shit? You're definitely like the prey."
The other boys laughed. Rodney lay still, miserable and afraid.
"What does that make me?" asked Dane.
Rodney again said nothing.
"Answer him!" shouted Hayden, stepping on his wrist.
"A predator!" Rodney yelped, trying to pull his arm free.
"Right," said Dane, "But today is your lucky day...I'm not hunting you."
He stood up, saying something Rodney couldn't make out, and a moment later he was being dragged to his feet, his neck in a tight vice under Lucas' arm. The boys marched him back to the car where Noah was waiting. Hurling him into the backseat, Lucas climbed in beside him as Hayden went around to the opposite seat, pinning him between them. He gasped and choked, though trying not to cry. This was going far, farther than anything before. Would they take him somewhere? What were they going to do to him?
In the front seat, Noah and Adrian looked back at him, their faces etched into cruel grins. Dane, still outside the car, leaned in through the open window and threw his backpack down onto the floor at his feet.
"Give me your phone," he demanded, and Rodney, not daring to refuse, quickly handed Dane the device. He waited, fighting back tears, as he watched Dane type something on his phone.
"Cool," said Dane, "I just texted your mom, letting her know you're staying late after school because you got detention. And it seems like you forgot a book in one of your classes."
Rodney groaned. Why were they doing this? Were they trying to ruin his reputation at home, too?
"Looks like I'll have to go return it for you, since I'm not in detention," Dane chuckled. His friends laughed too.
Rodney held his breath...was Dane actually going over to his house?
"Oh and also," Dane continued, "I've downloaded an app onto your phone, so now I can start a live recording from my phone...and yours will pick it up."
