Raz

          Focus.

          Each step has to count. Each breath.

          Silence.

          Always be silent. Always stealthy.

          Prey.

          Be the prey. But be the predator.

          I pull back my string, keeping my eye on the small rabbit hiding in the fallen, brown leaves scattered across the woods. It looked at me, and for a split second, I pitied it. But as I let go of the string, my heart turned again.

          Because I am prey.

          And I’m being hunted too.

          By the Kal.

          He wants to use me. And if I can’t provide his meat- I die.

          Life is as simple as that around here.

          I live in a world, where there is no freedom. Even thinking about it can get you in trouble. Because thinking leads to words. And words lead to actions. And actions- usually end up as death around here.

          Think it’s a bit harsh?

          Around here it’s normal.

          I picked up the small animal I’d hit almost in the eye. It’d missed by a centimeter at most. Darn. I need to work on that some more.

          “Bring it in with the rest, Jackers.” A hard, gruff voice sounded from across the woods.

          I slowly moved towards him where the rest of the kill are.

          This year is my first year on the hunt squad. For the past sixteen years I’ve been butchering the kills; and secretly learning to use my mother’s old bow and arrows. This year, when they realized I was good enough to use, they’d let me skip the hunting drills, and let me come with the older men and the few women who actually want to go. But most of the women stay back in town to help the butchering or teach the young. But that’s not for me.

          Because I’m a hunter.

          It gives me a good feeling, like I can be on top of something for once. Not below. I’m always last. I’m always least. Because I’m nothing but that redheaded girl named Raz Jackers. Here, I might be something more than just another person in Eska, working under the laws of the Kal.

          I mentioned him before.

          We don’t have presidents, or kings, or emperors. We have him- The Kal. And he just rules over us all, like a god.

          I live in one of the five capitols of Eska. Ragglov.

          Here in Ragglov, we catch meat for the Kal. And a little bit for us. But 90% goes to him- so it’s mostly for him. What the heck does he do with all that meat, you ask? Well he usually eats most of it. The rest goes to the people in ‘His Village’.

          The people in His Village are greatly despised around here. Almost as much as the Kal. Even though we’ve never met them, and it’s not their fault they live in the richest place in the whole dang world, we still hate them. They live in comfort (at least compared to us, where seeing each other’s bones and living for days with no food is normal) and we live hunting food for them. So they can be even more at ease. Pfft.
          “A rabbit?” the man looked at my kill, the nodded,” throw it in.”

          I threw it in the practically empty wagon.

          My stomach growled, so I looked around hoping to see some kind of berries growing somewhere, or maybe some edible bark. None.

          I ran off, silently of course so I wouldn’t scare the game (as if there was really much left in these woods), looking around with my sharp blue eyes. I decided to try my luck with the birds today, so I began climbing a nearby tree. Not many trees around here have low branches, so I wrapped my hands around and balanced the weight between my hands and feet, allowing myself to shimmy up the thick trunk of the tree easily. I positioned myself, some fifty feet in the air, on a thick branch, and looked around for some birds, bow at the ready.

          “Hey!”

          I almost fell off my branch in fright. But I didn’t. Because that would be a ridiculous death, wouldn’t it?

          “What?!” I whispered back, gritting my teeth.

          I looked up and saw Evan, my best friend, sitting a few feet above me.

          “Go find your own tree, squirt.” He grinned, the caked dirt and clay on his face contrasting with his deadly white teeth.

          I sighed, and looked back out of the tree, " No,"

          I heard him silently crawl down the tree. He stood on my branch, and then slowly sat down, checking the branch could hold us both.

          “Having fun?” he whispered.

          “It’s better than cutting and salting meat all day.”

          Here in Ragglov, we don’t have refrigerators. Yeah, and no electricity. That happened a while ago. Like, before I was born. So, luckily, I don’t really rely on it like some of the old people around here did. Now, instead of letting the meat hang up in a fridge all day, we pretty much cake it in salt. Salting is definitely not my favorite chore- especially when I have cuts all up my arm from working on my hunting skills, and from a couple butcher knife accidents. Hurts like the devil.

          I tugged on the ends my jean shorts, feeling them start to ride up,“Have you caught anything?”

          “Nah, just a couple squirrels. But what will that help?” he leaned against the middle of the tree.

          “Yeah, but it might help save the life of a poor official who decides that the well earned meat of a poor dying man is better suited in the stomach of a wealthy man than a dying one.” I muttered sarcastically.

          “Ah, you and your defensive ways.” He sighed, his voice starting to get louder. He’d apparently given up hope we’d find anything up here,” You know it’s not the officials fault. It’s the law. And they’re in as much danger of death under the Kal as we are.”

          The officials. I hate them. Well, really, I just hate everything- except Evan. He’s like an older brother. My dad, well, I could so live without him. My mom? I hate her. She left me. She died when I was little, and completely deprived me of anything gentle or kind. Most people loved her. But she left me to live like this, so of course I hate her. But the officials were sent here by the Kal to make sure we do what we’re told to do. So, obviously, I hate them the most.

          And here was Evan, having compassion.

          Compassion!

          It’s so laughable, that I actually laugh.

          “Yeah, whatever.”

          “Someone’s not in a good mood…” he huffed.

          I had to bite my lip hard to keep myself from saying something I’d regret. I’d done that more than once, if you can believe that.

          Then the sound of a many church bells uttered through the woods. The signal from the town church to go home.

          Evan turned his head, confusion on his face,” It’s only been a couple hours. We weren’t suppose to leave until sundown.”

          “Then we better see what’s up.” I suggested spitefully, slinging my bow across my back, and slipping an arrow in with the rest slung across my shoulder. I waited for Evan to go down, then wrapped my arms and legs around the trunk and slid down.

          We raced back to the wagon. I grimaced when I saw the official standing guard beside it. The same man who had inspected my rabbit.

          “We’ve decided there’s enough meat for today.” Me, Evan, and the other assembling hunters all stared at the wagon. If we could only have 10% of it, this was hardly enough to last for a couple days, if that.

          “So we are to walk back. No questions.” He eyes us all, as if daring us to ask. But we held our squirming tongues. At least mine was squirming. You don’t know how much I wanted to yell a little sarcasm into his day- to let him have it. But I didn’t. What a good girl I am. Hah!

          Some of the men started pulling the wagon along. They have to pull it, like mules, because we had to eat ours. Long ago too. Sad, I know. But it was either them or us. And obviously it’s them first.

          “Something’s up, Raz.” Evan whispered,” We need to find out what’s going on.”