Her-licopters thundered overhead; in the distance, dogs barked and sirens wailed in the darkness.
John jumped over the wire fence and dropped into a rubbish-strewn ally.
He leaned against the wall, hands on knees, trying to catch his breath.
He'd outrun them; he'd left the hunters behind.
How long he could stay out of their clutches he didn't know. He'd escaped the last four hunts he was eligible for, but how long could he expect his luck to last?
Since the plague, there were perhaps only a hundred thousand men left on the planet and free-range roamers like himself. Maybe less than twenty thousand.
They were permitted to live outside the breeding camps on the whim of the empress, for sport and entertainment only.
The waiting list to join the hunting parties was long, and the desire to run the free men down was strong.
Then every six months, the Harvest would begin.
The barking of dogs got closer; John turned to go, but two shadows walked into the light at the end of the alley, ominously outlining their stun guns in silhouette. He looked behind him at the fence he had just scaled, but it was useless. The chase was over.
"Stay there, Penis!" The taller of the two shadows called.
"Give it up, Cumbag, it's time!" The other yelled happily, pointing her weapon at him.
A knot formed in John's stomach. Fear.
Or was it something else?
He'd heard varying tales from the few other males he'd met, some alluding to the pleasure that was to be had by being harvested.
The pair strode closer, the clomping of their knee-high leather boots echoing in the alley.
"Going to make this easy cowboy? Or you want it the hard way?" The taller one said.
As her silhouettes resolved themselves, he noticed only the taller one wore the uniform visor fronted helmet, so the only feature he could see was her red lipped mouth.
The shorter of the two was bare faced and wearing an excited, wild expression.
