Hunt and Pray
gazes locked, and Drew could see so much conflict in those blue eyes, it hurt to look at it.
    “Good night, Chance.”
    Chance didn’t respond, just reached down and grabbed the supper tray and then left, closing the door and locking it. Drew walked over and lay down on the bed. He didn’t want to sleep and waste what little time he had left but the darkness and emotional exhaustion overcame him. He faded off with the image of stormy, sea-blue eyes in his head.

Chapter Five
     
    D REW awoke to the sound of arguing out in the hallway. He sat up quickly and backed against the wall when the colonel marched in.
    “Good morning, faggot.” His tone was crueler than his words.
    Guess the civilized part is over. The thought hit him at the same time as the colonel’s backhand hit his face.
    “I don’t know what you’ve done to my son, but rest assured… he is going to kill you.” The man’s eyes shone with a kind of lunatic madness.
    Drew stared at him quietly for a second before speaking.
    “I have no doubt about it, Colonel. I don’t think he has much of a choice.” He brought his hand up to his mouth to check if he was bleeding. He was proud he’d managed to contain the whimper of pain that threatened to break through.
    The man smiled and patted Drew on the head. “You’re right, of course, he doesn’t.” The colonel walked over to the window and looked out, smirking to himself for a moment.
    “I have every confidence that once he becomes engaged in the hunt, he’ll forget all about this overly developed sense of humanity he seems to have about you. You aren’t much better than an animal, after all.”
    “I’m the one locked in a cage, I suppose.” He tried to keep his mouth shut, but it wasn’t working. “Of course, there are some people who would consider kidnapping an innocent person and hunting him down in the woods kind of animalistic.”
    The colonel snorted. “Your kind is never innocent, Mr. Edwards. You spread your filthy affliction wherever you go, turning good men into faggots with a touch of your disgusting hand.”
    Drew almost laughed. The lunatic actually believed what he was saying… or he’d convinced himself he did.
    “One of you almost got my boy.” The colonel paced and muttered. “I caught him, that pervert… touching… my son and trying to pass his disease onto him. I made sure he wouldn’t do it to anyone else.”
    The maniacal glee on the man’s face was terrifying. Drew heard a pained whimper bitten off out in the hall at the colonel’s words. Apparently Chance hadn’t known his father had killed his friend.
    So, that’s what this little vendetta was all about. The man was worried his son was one of those things he hated so much. It all made a lot more sense now.
    This was about more than just being bored and killing a few fags. This was about Chance. He was forcing his son to kill Drew as a warning, like his own little Scared Straight camp. The sad part was Drew didn’t even think Chance was gay. The touch had probably been a desperate attempt at some normal human contact.
    “I’m sorry you feel that way, Colonel. I wish for Chance’s sake you didn’t.”
    Drew wasn’t surprised by the second backhand. Still, he didn’t regret saying it.
    He was surprised, however, when the other man turned on his heel and left the room, slamming the door behind him.
    Probably had to go wash off the gay after touching me.
    Drew sat there, head aching and ears ringing, until the door opened again. Chance wouldn’t look at him, just gestured toward the bathroom.
    When he got there, he glanced in the mirror. It was a toss-up as to who looked worse, him or Chance. His throat had a cut from Ezra’s knife, whereas Chance’s was bruised. Both of them looked like they’d gone a few rounds with a professional boxer.
    He wondered how a father could do that to his own child. He knew it happened to a lot of kids, but his own parents had never laid a hand on him, and God knew Drew had

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