style="font-size:15px;"> Hall went to the right, Miller to the left, walking two metres from Travis covered in branches. The lad stared into the back of the slow-moving corporal and prayed to himself that Miller would get as far away as possible and never look back. For what reason the military didn’t see him, Travis wasn’t interested. He knew that he was lucky, and that was all that mattered. And besides, he saw a branch lying on the ground not far away, of a decent thickness.
The sun was setting slowly. The forest, already gloomy, had grown even darker.
Corporal Miller, looking around, began to catch himself thinking that they had missed the fugitive after all, and that in the coming darkness they would be unlikely to locate him. He did not know how much time had passed. Miller had no desire to go further into the woods to stumble upon the wanted man. In order not to expose himself to unnecessary danger, he decided to walk back and turned around.
In front of him, just a few yards away, peering out from behind a tree, was Travis. Miller turned white. He opened his mouth to say something, but could not get a word out. Arthur came slowly out from behind cover. He held his left hand up, showing that he was not hostile.
– Take it easy, Miller, it’s all right.
– But… you… how?! – The corporal stammered and broke into a cold sweat. – I… saw you… you were…
– Now, now, Henry, just give me a minute and I’ll explain,» Travis went on, inching closer to the corporal.
– This can’t be…» Miller gasped.
As he stood there in shock, averting his gaze and lowering his machine gun, Travis kept walking toward him.
The corporal looked at him with eyes full of horror. Travis did not show any aggression. He was perfectly calm, apart from a slight excitement caused by the muzzle of the machine gun pointed at him.
This calmed Miller down a little, too, and he exhaled in relief. But his gaze slid lower, and he saw a thick branch in Travis’s right hand, which he was studiously trying to hide behind his leg.
Miller understood, but it was too late.
Travis swung and hit the corporal in the face with all his might. Miller swayed, dropped his assault rifle from his hands, but stayed on his feet. Travis lunged at him, knocked him to the ground and punched him in the face, but the blows were not as hard as he expected.
Miller, who had managed to throw his adversary off, reached for a nearby machine gun. But the fugitive was ahead of him: he crawled up to the corporal, clamped an arm around his neck and began to squeeze it tightly. Henry tried in vain to get out of the grip. He only managed to grasp the grip of the machine gun, to grip the trigger, but he no longer had the strength to point the weapon at Travis. A short burst went into the ground.
«Idiot!» – flashed through Arthur’s mind. A few more seconds and the corporal would be finished. Travis saw the veins in his enemy’s neck bulge and the life slowly leave the corporal’s body.
Miller began to twitch in convulsions.
It was not consciously, but reflexively. The corporal was still warm, but his heart was no longer beating. Travis unclasped his hands only a few seconds later, not fully aware that it was over.
This was the second man Travis had killed. Unbeknownst to him, killing the corporal was much easier for him than killing his first victim. Arthur didn’t try to analyse the murders and perhaps truly comprehend what he had done. All he could think about now was Sergeant Hall, who couldn’t help but hear the gunshots and was probably already on his way here. Wasting no time in thinking, Travis picked up his assault rifle, checked the magazine and prepared to face the sergeant, counting on his experience and reaction. He hid behind a tree again. Holding his breath, he listened, trying to figure out where his second stalker was now. But it was quiet all around.
About two minutes passed – lingering for both Travis and Hall. The sergeant saw the corporal’s body from a distance and immediately stopped. Miller might have been lying unconscious, but Hall dismissed the thought and followed the worst-case scenario. The sergeant was unable to make out a machine gun beside the corporal, but he immediately assumed that the weapon might have been taken by the intruder and their chances were now even.
Changing his shotgun for his assault rifle, the sergeant began to move cautiously forward, studying the area carefully and looking out for absolutely everything.
Hall stopped a few yards from the corporal’s body and, after a cursory examination, confirmed that he was dead. The sergeant began firing at the nearest trees behind which the killer might be hiding. In short bursts he marked the trees, moving from one tree to the next. The sudden burst of gunfire startled Travis so much that he almost dropped his gun from his hands, but he immediately controlled himself and waited. Arthur realized that the sergeant did not know where he was and was firing at random.
After a succession of shots there was a lingering pause. Travis, not seeing Hall, assumed that he might have been changing the magazine or running out of ammunition. It was an opportune moment: they had to find out where the sergeant was as quickly as possible and be the first to open fire. Arthur took a deep breath and was just about to come out from behind cover when another round rang out.
Now Hall was firing into the trees next to Travis. After the shots were fired everything went quiet again, which alarmed Travis even more. The hope that the sergeant had run out of ammunition was gone. What was he waiting for then? As the fugitive pondered, another shot rang out, much closer. And again there was a pause.
The situation was heating up, something had to be done urgently, but the moral pressure was preventing Travis from concentrating. How long would the lull last this time? He didn’t have to wait long for an answer – the shots rang out again. Now they were more frequent and powerful: the sergeant was firing a shotgun.
Bark and splinters of gunfire flew in different directions as the gunfire moved swiftly toward Travis. As soon as another shot hit the tree closest to the fugitive, he instantly jumped out from behind cover and ran as fast as he could into the woods. Hall caught the target, the muzzle of the shotgun following Travis, the shot slicing through the branches above his head, but the shooter missed every time. Travis, turning around on the run, fired a short burst in the sergeant’s direction, after which the weapon suddenly jammed. Dropping it to the ground, he again hid behind a thick tree, catching his breath. The sergeant also stopped firing.
Travis was still comforted by the thought that the shooter had used up his ammunition, but suddenly fear gripped him. Arthur remembered Miller’s gun, which he had caught a glimpse of during their fight. Peeking out from behind cover, the lad saw the sergeant slowly backing away, approaching the corporal’s corpse. He was sure to get a gun. Travis jumped out from behind cover and ran straight at Hall with a loud shout.
When the sergeant saw his attacker’s twisted face, he, like the corporal before him, froze for a moment in amazement and consternation: he thought he was running at him not as a man but as an intrepid beast. At the last moment his composure returned to the sergeant and he pulled the trigger. But the weapon failed: no shot was fired.
