Man Hunt by K. Edwin Fritz

potentially hazardous incident," she explained. She paused to survey Gertrude's face. It didn't change, and Lucy continued.
    "We got a call from Sharon this morning at dawn. They found a green gone AWOL and they were going to run him before making the kill, so we were waiting all morning."
    Gertrude didn't move, allowing the girl to tell the whole story before coming to any decisions.
    "They finally made the kill," she continued, "near the edge of town, still in blue sector. The idiot never even tried to go back to his own sector. God, men are stupid. Anyway, when we got there some blue was stealing his sneakers. New ones too. Quite a find for the pig, I'm sure. I decided to run him a little, then kill him. We didn't have much time for fun anyway, what with the other body still laying there."
    Gertrude nodded, grunted. "He got away, didn't he?" she asked intuitively while hoping that somehow this was all nothing more than a man who survived a breach in the sneaker rules.
    "Yes, Gertrude, he did. But it wasn't Sherry's fault. He was a good runner, and a lucky one. In fact, it was his luck that caused me to come here."
    Gertrude was intrigued but also suddenly afraid. Luck was unpredictable, and it could have powerful effects.
    "The bastard stumbled into the blue feeding arena. All of the men were already there, deep in the middle of their damned rituals. It was... a surprise, to say the least. Sherry's still new in our sector, so she didn't know those roads so well yet, and Emma and I... well, neither of us put two and two together. We just forgot it was Sunday. I won't suggest it was the heat of the hunt that distracted us. I know I'm ultimately to blame. I'm sorry Gertrude."
    Gertrude was feeling nervous about what else may have happened, but she was sure she already knew the worst of it. "Yes, you are to blame," she said. "As second-in-command you are in charge of that car. All decisions are yours. All mistakes are yours. I'm very disappointed. That's not like you."
    She tried to perceive what else may have happened. Losing a kill to a rule-breaker wasn't the problem. Even being forced to stop the hunt wasn't the problem. It was having done either of these things– scratch that… both of these things– in front of a crowd of men. They had shown their imperfection. An incident like that could possibly cause some stirrings in the usually complacent men. It was bad news indeed.
    Lucy confirmed the severity of the incident when she told how their only choice was to reverse out of the alley and leave. As the rest of the story unfolded from Lucy's mouth, Gertrude felt the flame of disquiet in her stomach grow to a small, hot fire, and when Lucy finished, the bestial headwoman yelled at her for a full minute in a whirlwind of profanities and an ever-reddening face. It didn't matter that Lucy was the best woman on the island, even above the other headwomen. It didn't matter that her milestone tenth year was just weeks away. When Gertrude lost her temper, she was at her most devastating form.
    But Lucy had seen this anger before, and she took her berating like a woman. She didn't cry, didn't look to the floor, didn't even blink. She simply stood and accepted what Gertrude fed her until it was all out and they could talk again. Finally, Gertrude's fire abated to smoldering ash, and she asked Lucy to assess what she could of the situation.
    "It was a Mexican standoff. He wasn't coming out, and obviously we couldn't go in. There were just too many of them. I'd never take that chance." She paused, but perhaps spurned by Gertrude's violent outburst, one of her own emotions, frustration, slipped through her lips. "I can't believe how lucky he was!"
    "How can you be sure he didn't run you there on purpose?" Gertrude asked.
    "I thought of that, but I made a note of his tag… GOPHER. I checked with Rhonda just now. He was transferred from green only five days ago. He's too new to know his way around. I was going to get a history report on