Hunting Season by Erik Williams Read Free Book Online Page A

to keep attacking in numbers like that.  Someone had suggested making landmines to put in No Man's Land.  Good idea.  Now they just needed the material.
    Martin rubbed his face, tired.  His eyes stung and his neck ached.  He was ready for some sleep.
    He opened the front door as quietly as possible, not wanting to wake Bonita and pick-up the argument where they left off.  Easing in, he gently closed the door behind him.
    It was dark in the hallway except for light creeping underneath the bedroom door at the other end.  Martin stared at it a moment, thinking maybe Bonita hadn't been able to sleep.  Then he heard moans.  Her moans.
    And someone else's.
    She's watching a DVD, he thought.
    More moans.  And grunts.
    He inched down the hallway, not wanting to believe it.
    "Yes!" she yelled.  "Yes!"
    The switch in Martin's head flicked.  He pulled the Glock from his holster and chambered a round.
    When he reached the bedroom door, he didn't hesitate, grabbing the knob and throwing it open.  On the bed, Bonita was naked on her hands and knees.  Her back arched as some guy took her from behind.
    Martin stood there, his eyes wide, doubting everything he saw.  How could she?  Why?
    "Jesus!" the guy shouted.  He jumped up from behind Bonita and off the bed and against the far wall, hands extended.  "Don't do it."
    Martin snapped from his trance and realized he'd forgotten about the gun.  He raised it a leveled it at-
    "Tommy?" Martin said.  The neighbor's teenage son.
    "Don't Martin, please."  Tommy's voice cracked.  "She begged me.  Said she wanted a baby.  I said no but she started...doing things."
    Martin looked from Tommy to Bonita, his wife now sitting Indian style on the bed.  "He's a boy."
    Bonita smirked and grabbed a glass of wine off the nightstand.  "Depends on what your definition of a boy is.  Didn't feel like a boy a few seconds ago.  Or earlier today after he mowed the yard."
    Martin shifted the gun and pointed it at his wife.  "Because I can't get you pregnant you do this?"
    "Yes."  Bonita set the glass down.  "I did this for us.  The rest of my family is dead, Martin.  And so is yours.  This baby will be real and it will be ours and we'll be a family."
    "You think I want to have a baby with you now?"  Martin inched closer.  "And what about the next kid you want?  Maybe it'll be Tommy's younger brother.  Or that asshole across the street who's always ogling you."
    Bonita didn't offer a response.  Her smirk melted and tears dripped off her jaw.  She'd acted tough but now the truth came out.  She was scared.  She was thirty-seven years old and afraid her time to have a baby was almost up.  Almost up in this forsaken world.  Seeing her this way, Martin could almost forgive her.
    Almost.
    "How long?"  Martin's hand was steady.
    Bonita shrugged, wiping her eyes.  "Not long."
    Martin turned the gun on Tommy.  "How long?"
    Tommy stuttered before he said, "A week.  That's it."
    He looked at Tommy leaning against his bedroom wall, semi-erection pointing at his floor.  His penis was shiny with Bonita's juices.
    The image of him taking Bonita from behind flashed in his head.  Bonita he could forgive.  Maybe.  She was desperate.  But Tommy...
    Martin leveled the gun at Tommy's head.  "You didn't finish."
    Tommy's face slacked and Martin could see the fear swimming in the kid's eyes.  "Wait, wait.  This ain't cool, man."
    "Martin, it's over," Bonita said.
    "No it isn't."  Martin took a step toward Tommy.  "Get on the bed and finish."
    "No."  Tommy's voice cracked.
    "Stop it," Bonita said.
    Martin took another step closer.  "But I thought he was man enough.  I want to see.  I want to see what it takes to make a baby."
    "Jesus, you're crazy."  Tommy started to cry.
    Bonita stood.  "Leave him alone."
    Martin didn't listen.  "You think you can just come over here and fuck my wife.  My wife!"
    Tommy's lips trembled.  Snot ran from his nose.
    "Martin, please," Bonita begged,