Excerpt: The Hunted

The walk back seemed to take ages, maybe because it had taken us next to no time to complete it the first time. As we drew closer, though, I began to notice something off. The freight car where we had placed our stuff hadn’t been covered with much graffiti, if I remembered correctly. But now there were words spray painted across the back of the car. A growing sense of foreboding filled me. There was something off. I couldn’t put my finger on it, but something wasn’t right.
“Hunter. Look,” I murmured, pointing at the graffiti on the back of the freight car. “Was that there before we left?”
Hunter peered at where I was pointing, and then I could feel him switch to the Department Hunter that I hated. “No,” he said tersely. “They’ve been here.” His hand twitched towards his back seemingly involuntarily, and then we both realized something at the same time – Hunter had left his backpack, along with his gun, back in the freight car. Hunter swore violently, cursing his own stupidity. “You stay behind me,” He ordered. “Be ready. Stay alert,” he said without looking at me. My temper rose. I hated it when he got like this, but I swallowed my retorts and instead followed him as he advanced warily towards our makeshift campsite, listening intently for any sounds that were slightly out of place.
As we approached, my breath caught in my throat as I read what had been spray painted on the back of the car. In red spray paint that was dripping down the side of the car were the words, WE CONTROL THIS GAME.