Victoria Wellingford attempted to calm herself while she waited for the starter's gun to sound. She took several deep breaths, shook her arms and legs, and then settled into a relaxed crouch. This was her fifth Great Hunt, and she knew there was a genuine possibility that it could be her last. Not that she would miss it--the Hunt was a grueling six hour ordeal under extreme conditions. At least the northern Michigan terrain was softer and the temperature was fifteen degrees cooler than she endured the previous year. That Hunt--hosted by the Atlanta Chapter of the Young Hellions Club in a wooded area of central Georgia--sent three hunters to the hospital. Two suffered severe dehydration; the third fell from a ledge and broke an arm.
It goes without saying that the Hunt was even harder on the prey.
Victoria checked her watch just before glancing one more time in the starter's direction. She took a final deep breath as she waited for the report of the pistol. She exhaled slowly, checked the laces on her brand new, baby blue sneakers, and then gazed at her target.
Crack!
At the sound of the gun, forty nude women sprinted from the starting line and raced across the meadow in the direction of the trees. Wearing only sneakers and a bicycle helmet with a tinted visor, the women soon formed loose clusters organized by body size. The thinner, more physically fit women at the head of the pack crossed the two hundred yards in a matter of seconds before disappearing into the woods. The less athletic clusters lagging behind reached the tree line a few moments later, while the more buxom women bounced across the field a full minute behind their lesser endowed sisters.
Victoria was the first to reach the forest. She crashed through some low hanging branches, dodged a tree trunk as she adjusted to the diminished light beneath the arboreal canopy, and then sped up a low hill while she gained her bearings. She had trained hard for this Hunt. Last year, she survived until the final hour of the Hunt. This year, she was determined to claim the elusive prize as The One Not Taken.
She sprinted at full speed to the top of the hill, and then just managed to pull up and stop her momentum before bursting into a clearing on the other side of the rise. That would have been a serious mistake, akin to sending up a flare marking her position. Instead, she jogged to the left, skirting the perimeter of the field. Still running at full speed, she darted her eyes from side to side in search of a path.
She found a deer trail that ringed the clearing for several dozen yards before veering over the hill. As soon as her sneakers hit the worn path, she accelerated to the top of the ridge. When she reached the peak, she saw that the trail continued for another hundred yards or so, before disappearing around a copse of small trees. Running downhill was her best opportunity to put some distance between herself and the pursuers, who would be following fifteen minutes behind the prey.
Victoria reached the thicket of birch trees and paused to catch her breath. She took a sip from her sole water bottle--prey were permitted as many as they could carry, but she learned in her first Hunt that being overburdened with supplies was the surest route to an early capture. For this reason she brought no food and carried a single plastic bottle. Experience taught her that there were always water sources in the wilderness. She just had to be resourceful enough to find them.
Just as Victoria stepped back onto the path a body slammed into her, knocking her to the ground. She fell face first, hitting the dirt and grass with a dull thud. Her knees and elbows were scraped from breaking her fall, but the pain in the middle of her back was the most troublesome.
"Oh! I'm sorry. I didn't see you." A beautiful young Hispanic woman with pink sneakers and a matching pink helmet reached down to help Victoria to her feet. "I rounded the corner, and you were right there. I'm so sorry. Are you alright?"
"I'll be fine," Victoria answered as she grasped the other woman's proffered hand. Standing toe to toe, Victoria judged the younger woman to be the same height as herself--five foot six inches-- and within five pounds of her 124 pound weight. Victoria's blond hair was cut just above her shoulders, while the Hispanic woman's long black hair was pulled back into a tight pony tail that emerged from the bottom of her helmet. Neither woman was endowed with much in the chest area, although Victoria instantly recognized that her B cup sized breasts were just a little bit fuller than the other woman's, although not as perky.
And my ass isn't fat like hers--that's where those extra five pounds are located. You need to lay off the rice, sister. Carbs are not your friend.
"Just some scrapes on my knees and elbows. I suffered worse than that bursting through the tree branches just past the clearing. I'm Victoria, by the way."
"I'm Belkys."
"Belkys. That's an unusual name. I can't say that I've heard that one before."
"It's an old Spanish name. I was named after my great aunt."
"Well, Belkys, I'd like to stay and chat, but I need to get going. You're welcome to run with me, if you'd like."
"Thanks, I think I will. You seem to know what you're doing out here. Some of those other women back there are going to get taken down as soon as the pursuit begins."
"That's why the first thing I did was searched for a trail. You can cover more territory and put more space between yourself and the pursuers when you're running on smooth ground. It's important to make the fifteen minute head start mean something. Once the second gun sounds, I'll get off the path and go cross-country."
"Sounds like a plan. Let's go."
Victoria retrieved her water bottle, brushed the dirt and twigs from her arms and legs, and set off down the path. Their nude bodies glistening with sweat, the two women sped off into the woods at a brisk pace just short of a full-blown sprint. Despite giving away five years or so, Victoria matched the younger Belkys stride for stride. Their long, lean legs churning the soil while their arms pumped in unison, the two women left the thirty-eight others in their dust.
Crack! Crack!
"That's the signal for the pursuit to begin," Victoria said. "Follow me."
"Lead the way," Belkys responded.
Victoria turned off the trail and headed into denser woods. Belkys followed, just a few paces behind her. Neither woman was breathing hard. Victoria had trained for months, and she knew that her endurance would carry her through the entire Hunt. She didn't know anything about Belkys, but she was starting to suspect that the younger woman's fitness level was equal to her own.
"Let's see what's on the other side of that rise," Victoria said. "If we can put a hill between us and the pursuit, that will muffle our footsteps. If they can't hear us, we gain a huge advantage."
"I can see this isn't your first Hunt," Belkys answered.
"No, it's not. It's my fifth, actually."
"Five times. Wow. I'll be happy if I survive this one."
"Enough talking. We need to move it."
Belkys accelerated past Victoria, beating her to the top of the hill. Victoria felt a burning in her thighs as the gradient increased. Still, she matched the younger woman's pace and refused to allow her to put any distance between the two of them.
The ground leveled off, and then a hundred yards further it started to slope downward. Victoria spotted a fallen tree--most likely a white pine--off in the distance.
"Head for that fallen tree," Victoria said. "We can stop and catch our breath."
The two women sprinted for the tree. Reaching it, they scrambled around the thick trunk to find shelter in the gorge left by the uprooted base. Squatting in the dirt, they opened their water bottles in unison and took long swallows of refreshment.
"Can I ask you something?" Belkys inquired.
"Sure," Victoria shrugged. "What is it?"
"How do you do it? How do you come out here and allow yourself to be pursued and most likely taken? Especially when you know that your husband is chasing down other women back in Florida?"
"We've agreed not to talk about it. He does what he needs to do, and I do what I'm required to do. I don't ask him any questions, and he doesn't ask any of me. He knows it's not my choice, and I know he doesn't have much choice, either. We accepted this deal when he was invited to join the Young Hellions Club."
"Is it really worth it? Is being in the Young Hellions that big of a deal?"
