The moon was full and hanging low in the sky when he first came across the car.
Walking through the woods at a languid pace with the crunch of snow familiar beneath his large boots, the hunter did not mind the temperatures tonight.
Despite the forecast of negatives, his body flushed with a warm anticipation.
Something exciting was stirring just beneath his left rib cage, reverberating up his spine to the back of his sunburned nape. It was prophetic, this feeling, and it led to great outcomes that matched his expectations.
Tonight was no different.
His movements were fluid and seamless in the dark. The tall imposing figure floating noiselessly with a rifle slung over his shoulder and a bear trap pried open in the other. There was dried blood staining the serrated edges faded to the color of rust.
The night had been uneventful.
A ritualistic day like any other as the woods solemnly witnessed the hunter make his way from one end to the other, setting traps and checking those whose teeth were clamped around the ankles of wolves.
The animals had been exhausted by the time he found them.
Laying on the ground in a pile of misery, the life of hope in their eyes dimmed to an inevitable dread. Some had been dead upon his arrival, perhaps sensing mercy in their own suicide rather than waiting on the hunter to appear with his own game of malice.
Today however, there had been no victim.
No wolf whimpering in the jaws of death.
No panicky glint in those yellowed eyes as he descended upon them like nightfall.
Empty traps everywhere. And he did not mind it truthfully.
The hunger had not yet beckoned to him and plotted a path for him in the woods. Rather, the hunter took the night's silence as a time to walk around and admire the forest in all its glory.
The trees stood like sentinels with long branches that twisted downwards in the shape of arthritic fingers.
His breath plumed out then broke apart on his moving face.
Quiet snowflakes drifted down from the dark clouds and settled along the wide line of his shoulders which flexed beneath the layered jacket. A few dots of white dusted his long lashes.
The forest was an extension of the hunter. Something that had molded itself into the very flesh of him such that he did not know where he ended and the forest began. They had formed a symbiotic relationship of sorts.
He cared for the forest, protected it.
And in return, mother nature yielded its strength to him and fed him, revealing secrets and deep things no one knew of.
And today, despite having no catch, the forest directed his steps further from his usual spots and into the very edge of it. He walked and walked and walked, the length of it seeming neverending, the destination of no particular point in the horizon.
Yet still he felt that tingling in his rib cage, that soft press of wind like a palm against his back nudging in that direction.
The hunter did not question despite the niggling curiosity which tickled the back of his neck. His gloved hands flexed, long dexterous fingers straining against the leather, and made a mental note to pick up more winter supplies for his body.
He had already outgrown the gloves he bought last winter among other things including weapons and traps.
There was always room for expansion, for needing more things.
The path before him cleared as the woods began to shrink farther behind until he realised where instinct had led him.
The I-56 highway.
A large structural tarmac that cuts across the country with hundreds of cars and trucks traveling along it. The highway was not far from the small town of Daed, and at night the road was illuminated with street lights every few hundred meters apart.
Tonight, however, they flickered.
The hunter remained unmoving at the shoulder of the highway. His golden eyes took in the distance on both sides. He watched as a figure approached from his left, a mass that was formless and without shape with two large glowing eyes that illuminated the space before it.
He did not blink or cringe back when the truck passed him by, the glaring lights like heat as the superstructure trembled beneath his feet. He watched the red tail lights fade into the distance.
And that's when he noticed a strand of smoke snaking into the air on the opposite shoulder of the highway.
Interesting.
The hunter had not seen it before, but he did now. The roadside barrier had been cut through violently, and by looks of it, a car had done the damage.
His neck felt hot all of a sudden, a flush of heat and anticipation raising the fine hairs on his arms. He crossed the road slowly, like a predator setting its eyes on some unseen prey and the air turned electric.
The car's front had been mangled and crashed beyond recognition.
It had slammed into a thick barked tree which seemed unharmed. From the likes of it, the hunter perceived that the car had rolled once or twice before slamming into the tree, it lay on its side like some haggard dying beast.
The structure was reminiscent of his prey immobilized within the jaws of his traps, wounded and weary as life slipped from it.
How ironic, the corner of his mouth quirked in a humorless smile.
Shifting the rifle on his shoulder, he circled the car, sharp eyes seeing beyond the veil of smoke that clouded the interior. From his estimation, the accident had occurred not more than a few hours, just after sunset, otherwise other animals would have stopped.
But the trees hemmed the gruesome scene from naked eyes, choosing only to reveal its secrets to the one it trusted most.
Him.
From the back of the car he saw a figure. The shape of her head slumped to the side unconsciously.
"What's this?" He hummed as the tingling spread like a fever across his back.
This time he could not ignore the sensation as he approached, head tilting in growing curiosity at who evoked such foreign emotions in him.
You.
And there she was, half-dead and bleeding from a ragged gash across her temple. Her hair matted at some point, the tentative rise and fall of her chest so vague he would have considered her dead had it not been for his sharp all-seeing eyes. She was slumped on the seat with the belt still suspended across her chest.
The hunter leaned in and raised a fist to the window.
He knocked politely; once, twice.
When she did not rouse, he grasped the door and pried it open with ease. The dents around metal should have locked it in place and had it been any other they would have waited for a tow truck or broken through the window.
The inside had a smoky carbon smell, yet beneath that fog her scent remained sharp and clear. Soft and sweet, something unfamiliar with a tangy undertone of fear.
The hunter leaned in close, staring at the soft line of her jaw and the dull pulse of her skin where her artery beat just beneath her ear. His eyes adjusted with the growing dimness then sharpened where the cold moonlight fell right over her ear illuminating something behind her ear.
At first he thought it was a scar.
Until he looked closer.
Numerous lines with serial numbers beneath it branded onto the soft dimpled skin.
The hunter blinked slowly. A barcode.
His body grew still while hovering inches from her face. Suddenly he was no longer staring with the assumption of her identity, but the realization that such a rare specimen had been placed right on his lap.
The veil of deception lifted as her flaws began to form before his eyes; a smattering of freckles unevenly distributed across the bridge of her nose and cheeks, the uneven slope of her nose and parted lips which revealed a chipped front tooth.
And her heartbeat.
The hunter lowered his ear to her chest and listened for the steady patter of her heart so unlike the haphazard random patterns of animals. Strong and normal. Predictable.
She's human.
The sight before him was as real as his own flesh.
Straightening, the hunter glanced around the woods suddenly aware that she could have been followed or trackers might have been sent out in search of lost property.
An owl hooted in the distance and the stars wheeled slowly in the sky. All was quiet and the only scent threading the air was the car's leaking petrol and her blood.
His fingers drummed patiently on the rooftop of the car as his mind, for the first time, grew disquiet.
A thread of thought rose from the dark recesses of his mind, each overlapped by another.
Where had she come from?
The barcode behind her ear could be traced back to the previous owner.
"... or to a harvest farm."
That was where most humans were born, bred, raised and sold for different purposes. Primarily devouring but it would not be rare for an elder to have a palate beyond eating.
His gaze returned to her figure analyzing her weight and height; she was far too small for consumption. If anything she looked underfed.
How had she escaped?
Never in his decades on this earth did he ever cross a human that was not within the confines of shackles and led by their elder. The ruins of this world were led by animals and humans were subservient creatures bred at the whims and pleasures of their owners.
Yet another question niggled at the back of his mind while studying her bruised wrists where chains had probably been attached.
Who had taught her how to drive?
The hunter walked around the car and crouched at the back studying the license plate. The numbers and location had been scratched over severely with something sharp. Hands braced on his knees, he rose and circled back to the front.
His eyes wandered back to her silhouette through the windshield, staring at the rill of saliva trailing down her mouth corner.
I could save her.
He blinked slowly at the whispered option.
It was easy really, just reach in, unbuckle and sling her over his shoulder. Return to the scene another night and clear off what was needed, perhaps search through her items and whatnot, see who she is.
Or I could let her bleed out and die.
The famine had left many animals with a hunger that made skin cling to bones.
This could be his offering of peace and gratitude to the woods for watching over him.
He looked about one last time mulling over the thought idly, then walked over to the nearest tree and set his rifle upright against the bark.
In truth, his mind had already been made up the moment he had realized what she was, everything else was simply for show.