Hunting Trip

Very few things in my family were taken as seriously as the father-son hunting trips we went on every year, starting on each child’s fifteenth birthday. My dad always said it was a tradition stretching back to when our family first moved to America. He went every year with his father until he passed away and then went every year by himself after that.

My family’s land stretched out acres behind our house. It was initially settled by whichever great-grandfather got here first. The men of my family were so proud of it; every generation was brought up to be. Pride and ownership were particularly important to us.

We loaded into the truck a few weeks after my birthday to leave for the backwoods. I kissed my mom on the cheek, and she told us to be safe. Her concerned expression caught me as odd; I’d never seen her so worried before. After two extra kisses and the biggest hug she’d ever given me, she told me to be careful and do as my dad said. My father assured her we would be fine and that we’d see her in a few days. I don’t think it really helped her feel any better, but what else could he have said?

As soon as we drove onto the back road, my father looked at me with a furrowed brow. It was the first time I could remember my father looking so serious. Usually, he was a lighthearted, go-with-the-flow kind of guy, but the look he gave me scared me a little.

“I know you don’t really understand, but it’s important that you try your hardest, okay. These trips are important and have serious consequences if things don’t work out how they should. I need you to do exactly what I tell you, exactly when I tell you to. Okay?” he told me.

I nodded my head.

“No, John, I need to hear you say it. I need you to promise me that you’re going to listen to me and do what I tell you to do without hesitation. Do you promise?”

“I promise,” I said quietly. “You're kind of scaring me, Pop."

"There's no reason to be scared, alright. You just have to listen and do what I say, and everything will be fine. The older you get, the more you'll understand, and someday you will take your kid out and teach them the same things. Don't be scared, son; everything is going to be fine."

The rest of the three-hour ride went by in silence. I could see my dad getting more nervous with each mile. I thought it was so odd that he was nervous about going hunting. I understood there were bears and mountain lions and other things that could kill us, but we had rifles. Cold, heavy, metal rifles that could kill anything we came across. Not only that, but we both knew how to use them. My father taught me to shoot as far back as I could remember. We practiced every day, so much that a rifle felt more comfortable in my hands than anything else.

We eventually pulled up to a small clearing off the road and made camp. I helped him set up the tent, and he started a fire. He checked the rifles and made sure everything was fine, and they were in working order. He checked the ammo and the sights and ensured it was all it should be. I tried to stay quiet and out of the way as much as I could. I knew he was uncomfortable; I could tell by how he moved.

We ate sandwiches my mom made for lunch and sat around the fire, trying to stave off the chilly November air. The sounds of the forest really came into focus as I sat there silently eating across from my dad. There was something making noise in every direction, but it felt so quiet at the same time. Every sound was so clear like there was nothing stopping it between where it started and my ear. It was the first time I ever experienced the natural world.

"You know, I can still remember the first time I went out here with my father. I wish you could have met him. He would have loved you, ya know." The family portrait came to mind when he brought up my grandfather. He was a huge man, the opposite of my fathers' slender frame. He was the opposite of my father in almost every way, but my dad talked about him like he had no better friend in the world. "When he died," my father took a bite of food, "I had to come out here all alone. These past ten years have been so lonely without him. I'm really glad you're here, son."

"I'm glad to be here, Pop," I replied. I couldn't help but smile. I couldn't imagine losing him and then having to go on these trips alone. "Why didn't you just stop coming?"

My father took a drink from his thermos and then took a deep breath, letting it out slowly.

"Have you ever wondered why you don't have any siblings?" he asked. The question caught me off, guard. The last thing I was expecting as an answer was another question. I thought about it for a moment before responding.

"I just assumed you only wanted one kid, I guess." I took a bite of my sandwich while I thought. "I guess now that I think about it, I don't have any uncles. Other than Uncle Jim, but he's moms' brother. Was Pop Pop an only child? I never really thought about it. What does that have to do with anything?"

"There’s a reason we only have one kid per generation. My dad had one son, his mom had one son, and her dad only had one daughter. We are only allowed one. Because there can only be three people on these trips at the most. On my first trip, I came with your grandfather and my grandfather, but he passed away the next year. There can’t be any more than three, so we can’t take the chance of having more than one kid. But that’s part of it too. We have to have at least one kid, so there is always someone to go. Even if they have to go alone like I did all these years.”

“I don’t get it. I don’t understand what’s so important about making sure someone goes every year. The deer aren’t going to become sentient and attack us while we sleep if we take a year off.”

My dad laughed and put the last bit of his sandwich into his mouth.

“I had all the same questions you have when I was your age, but once we get out there tomorrow, I’ll show you what you need to know, and things will make more sense.”

“If you say so,” I responded with my last bite.

The rest of the day went on slowly. Every minute that passed made me more anxious about going out. I kept thinking about one day losing him and then having to come out all alone and do it myself. I wondered how lonely it would be. Then I thought about having my own kid and taking them out. Would they even want to? What would I do if they weren’t interested in hunting? Would I have to force them to come? So many questions swirled through my head.

The following day, we woke up before the sun did. Groggily, we got ready to set off on foot into the woods. As we walked in silence, the sun slowly began to shine through the trees, sending rays of light peering through the branches above us.

“Not much further,” my dad said as he turned his head. “One of these years, I’ll teach you exactly how to get here, but for now, do you see that big rock?” He pointed into the trees away from the son. A huge boulder sat in between the trees, mossy and old. It was the biggest rock I’d ever seen, at least fifteen feet high.

“Yeah, it’s huge. I wonder how long it’s been there.”

“The first man in our family to arrive here put them up. There are markers. Hundreds of them surround this part of our land. That’s how you know we are in the right spot. Look over there.” he pointed in the other direction. Another boulder, almost identical to the one in front of us, sat between the trees about two hundred feet away.

“There’s another one.”

“That’s right. They go on like that all the way around in a huge circle. Once we go past them, we are in the hunting ground. Stop for a second; we need to go over a few things. I know I already made you promise, but I need to hear it again. You have to promise to do what I tell you whenever I tell you. If you don’t follow exactly what I say, we can both get hurt. I need you to understand that, okay? Promise that you’ll do as I say.”

“I promise,” I said with more confidence this time.

“Okay. Good.” My father took a deep breath. “Once we cross that line, we are working. This first year I just want you to watch me and do as I tell you. Every year after this one, I will teach you everything you need to know, but this time just follow me. Are you ready?”

“I think so. What’s next?”

“We track them down, do what we have to do, and then go home. Let’s get going. The longer we wait, the harder it will be.”

My dad began to walk again, and I followed close behind. A coldness ran down my spine when I crossed the line between the two boulders. I shivered and pulled my jacket tight around me. The gun on my back clanked against the magazine strapped to my belt. An hour of walking passed before my father stopped in his tracks. He bent down and looked at a small tree snapped in half.

“Do you see this?” he asked without standing up. I bent down beside him to get a better look.

“Yeah. Does that mean they’re close?”

“There are only two things in this part of the woods, son. Us, and them. I know we didn’t break this, and it wouldn’t still be this way from last year, so” he was cut off by something behind us snapping loudly. I turned to see where the noise came from but was pulled hard by the sleeve. “Run!” he yelled as we went off into a sprint.

By the time we stopped running, I was completely out of breath. Both of us leaned over ourselves and sucked in air. Thoughts raced through my head. I could barely hold on to one before another question replaced it. So many things weren’t making sense.

“What,” I asked between breaths, “were we running from?”

“You’ll see once we find them again. We’ll take a break and then slowly head back that way. Okay?” he responded as he sat down on the leaf-covered ground. I followed his lead and sat next to him. “From now on, we have our guns ready, okay?”

I nodded. A few minutes passed before we were ready to get going again. I took my rifle off my back and into my hands.

“Take it off safety,” my father said.

“You always said don’t do that unless—”

“I know what I said, John. Do what I say to do now.” I clicked the small button on the side of the gun to make it ready to fire. All it would take to shoot was pulling the trigger. “Alright, let’s get going. There’s a ridge over to the north side of where we were. If they’re still there, we should be able to see them.”

Together we set off back in the direction we came. My father made me walk directly behind him and told me to look for any movement. Soon the ground inclined and went up a steep hill. My legs burned from running before, but they caught fire as we trekked up the slope. Near the top, my father waved at me, indicating to slow down. He went down to a crouch and then onto his stomach at the edge of the outcrop.

I followed behind and lay next to him, peering down into the woods we were only half an hour ago. I scanned the area, looking for movement. My father tapped me quietly and pointed to the north side of the area.

“Do you see them?”

I squinted and focused on the area he pointed to. My breath caught as I saw movement, and my eyes locked on the figures below us. Creeping quietly and slowly through the trees were two people. A man and a teenager. They wore the same clothes we did. They had the same hats and shoes. Two exact copies of me and my father stepped through the trees. I shook my head, trying to reconcile what my eyes saw. I closed my eyes shut and looked again. They were still there.

“They must have seen us. Sometimes we can get them before they see do. It makes it easier that way,” my father whispered. “Don’t be scared. They can’t replicate the guns, only our appearances. The clothes look like ours, but it's part of them. They aren’t dangerous from this far away.”

My entire body shook. I heard what he was saying, but I couldn’t stop staring at myself walking in the valley below me.

“I don’t understand what’s going on,” I whispered.

“Every year, two of them show up here. I don’t know why. I don’t know from where, but I know if they get out of these woods, something very bad will happen. The details aren’t really clear, son. It’s just the way it has always been.”

“What happens if we lose them, and they get out?”

“They won’t try to leave unless they get rid of us first. If they kill us, they’ll try to take our places back home. I don’t think I need to explain what that would mean. Besides, even if they tried, the stones around the woods wouldn’t let them. It’s a defense our family put up to keep them here.” A shiver ran down my spine when I thought of my mother back at home. She wouldn’t be able to know it wasn’t us. There would be no way she could.

“Why can’t we just leave them here, then. If they can’t get out, then they’ll starve to death, and that will be that. We leave the woods behind and never look back.”

“I asked the same question. Your grandfather said they don’t starve to death. They have to be killed, or they’ll just keep piling up here until some idiot stumbles into these woods and lets them all out. The point is, we don’t know why we do it. We don’t know what exactly would happen if we didn’t, but are we going to take that chance? We have to assume the worst and do what we have to do to keep that from happening.”

“I just don’t understand—” I said as I looked at my father. His deep brown eyes stared right back into mine.

“It doesn’t matter, John. The purpose doesn’t matter. It’s what we do. That’s that. There’s one more thing we haven’t talked about. If they see you, they can replicate you. That’s already happened. If they touch you, they’ll know everything you know. There won’t be any way for someone to tell the difference until it’s too late. That can’t happen, okay? We’ll talk about it all more when we get home, but for now, we have to do this. We have to hit them both at the same time, or one will get away. Which one do you want?”

I looked back down into the woods to find the figures again. There was only one now, the one that looked just like me.

“Where’d the other one go?” my father said to himself. “Do you see him?”

I shook my head as I scanned for the other. My double walked along the same way he had before, like he didn’t notice the other was missing either.

“I don’t see the other one, Pop. Where could he have gone?”

“God dammit. That’s not good. We have to assume he saw us. We can at least take that one out, and we will worry about the other one when we find him.”

“Why would he abandon his son?” I asked.

“That’s not his son John. Remember, they look like us, but they aren’t us. They’re demons or something. I don’t know exactly, but I do know they aren’t us. Do you want to take the shot, or should I? Once one is gone, things get way easier.”

“I’ll do it,” I said after a moment. I looked into my scope and put the dot right on the center of his chest. With a deep breath, I tried to calm myself down and steady my hand. I let out the breath and squeezed the trigger.

The gunshot rang through the trees, and the forest fell silent. The bullet connected with my double, and it fell to the floor. It stayed still for a moment before struggling to its feet. It started to run away, bleeding from a gunshot wound on his shoulder. It disappeared into the woods.

“I missed,” I breathed. “I’m sorry; I don’t know what happened.”

“I missed my first time too, son. It’s alright. We have a mental block somewhere that keeps us from shooting something that looks like ourselves. It’s injured. If it doesn’t bleed out by the time we find it, it won’t be much of a threat anymore. You did good; now we just have to find the—”

Something picked my father up and threw him into a tree nearby. I lay on the ground in shock, trying to figure out what had just happened. Just above me stood another of my father. It reached down to grab me, but I rolled out of the way. It opened its mouth, and a guttural sound came out before quieting down and turning into a familiar voice.

“Don’t be scared, son. That monster was trying to trick you,” it said. By the end of the sentence, it sounded exactly the same. The same voice that reassured me when I was nervous or reprimanded me when I messed up coming from this copy.

“John, run!” my real father yelled from somewhere. The replicant turned its head toward the sound before shots rang out. It screamed at him in his own voice and ran towards him at blinding speed. “Run now, John!”

I got up as fast as possible and ran in the opposite direction. I couldn’t look back. I refused to. I had to trust my father to do what he knew to do. I had to find my copy. That was my job. I turned on a dime and started running down the hill toward where my copy had been.

When I reached the place I had thought was the right spot, the sun sat high above me. Sweat poured down my face despite the chill of the air. I gasped for air and leaned against a tree to catch my breath. I knew I had to calm down and focus. I peered up to the outcrop we were attacked at but couldn’t see anything out of the ordinary.

“God dammit,” I said to myself. With my glove, I wiped the sweat from my forehead.

“Why do you kill us,” my voice said to me somewhere close. By the end of the sentence, the guttural words sounded just like my own voice. I jumped up and swiveled my head around to find the source.

“You’re trying to kill us and replace us, you freak! Your father attacked us!” A perfect clone of myself leaned out behind a tree to look at me. It held its shoulder, trying to keep in the stark red blood dripping down its arm.

“It is not my father. It is merely a partner. I can not control it. You drew blood first,” it replied. Its sentences were short, and it took a breath between each one. “We are trying to survive just as you. When we arrive here. We know that we must fight to move on. To our lives where we can be free and live without restraint. We only desire to be like you. We are forced to be you. If we revealed ourselves as we were. We would be hunted and reviled. Just as you treat us now.”

My hands started to shake as it stood there staring at me. It didn’t blink. It hardly moved beside the rising and falling of its breathing.

“I can’t let you get out. I have to do what I have to do. I’m sorry.”

“Is that why you missed. I should be dead. I was unaware. Of your presence on the cliff.”

“I didn’t miss on purpose. I have to do what needs to be done. I’m sorry, there is no other way. I’m sorry.”

“If you must. I understand. What it means to desire survival,” my voice said.

I put my rifle up to shoot. It stepped out from behind the tree to face me head-on, breathing deep and bleeding onto the leaves it stood on with my shoes. I stared down an exact copy of myself, from my clothes to my hair, to my fingernails. My hands shook as I put my finger on the trigger.

“I’m sorry,” I said quietly. It screeched a hair-raising scream as it lunged at me, arms raised to grab me. I flinched and let off four shots before falling back into the tree. My double fell to the ground and twitched in front of me. Blood poured from its wounds. It convulsed for a moment before laying still. Tears burst from me, and I sobbed harder than I ever had. I couldn’t stop the flow, and my heart ached. I knew it wasn’t me, but my eyes didn’t know. I took deep breaths to calm down and eventually came back to myself.

As soon as I did, I heard footsteps rushing up toward me. Adrenaline pumped through me as I stood and whirled around in the direction the sound came from. My father stopped, empty-handed and bloodied, as soon as he saw me. I lowered my gun for a second before putting it back up toward him. He jumped a bit and put up his hands in surrender.

“Why don’t you have your gun?” I asked him.

“I dropped it when that thing attacked me. I shot at it a couple of times but missed before it got to me and threw me again. I got up and ran. It probably has the gun, so we have to be careful. We have to see it before it sees us, or we’re both dead.” My fathers’ chest rose and fell as he breathed. His shoe had a black ash mark where he had kicked out the fire the day before. His jacket was ripped on the right corner where the lawnmower caught it once. Every detail was exactly the same.

“How do I know you’re actually my father?” I asked. My hands started to shake again.

“I was there when you were born, son. I know everything about you. I am your father,” it responded calmly, hands still raised.

“Don’t listen to that thing, John,” a voice behind me said. I turned to see another of my father, exactly as I knew him in every detail, staring at me like the first. “I lost the gun, son. When I heard you shoot earlier, I started running here as fast as I could. It looks like you got it; good job.”

“No. This can’t be happening. There has to be a way to tell you apart. This can’t be it,” I breathed. I could feel myself losing my composure. One was my father, and one was a liar, and there was no way to tell. It touched him; it had to have. There was no other way it would be so confident.

“John. Listen to me very carefully. This is going to be the hardest thing you’ve ever done, but I need you to do exactly as I tell you. Just like I said before,” the first father said.

I nodded my head as tears began to stream down my face.

“Whatever he’s going to tell you is a trick, John. That’s what they do. They want to be you, and they’re gonna say anything they have to so that you’ll believe them. He had to have touched me somehow, so he knows everything I know.”

“I’m sorry, Pop, I don’t know—"

“John stop talking to him and listen to me, dammit!” the first father yelled. “I need you to do what you promised. There is only one way to make sure. There’s only one way.” Tears started to stream down his face. “You have to kill us both. If you don’t kill us both, you won’t know if you chose right until it’s too late, and we can’t take that chance. Think about your mother, John. You know there’s no other way.”

“He’s tricking you, John. He knows everything about you. He knows you have a good heart. He knows saying that is going to make you trust him. He’s going to tell you to shoot me first and then shoot him. But he knows you won’t be able to do it. You know me, John. I don’t want to die. I don’t want to leave your mother behind. It would kill her if you went back alone,” the second father responded.

“I don’t know what to do,” I whispered. I alternated the gun between both of my fathers. I tried my best to try and find anything to tell them apart.

The first father dropped his hands and went down to his knees.

“You can do me first, John, but you have to promise. You have to promise you’ll do him too. It’s the only way for you to know for sure. It’s the only option.”

I screamed. I screamed as loud as I could. I couldn’t think or decide or breathe. I turned and shot four times into my second father, and he dropped lifeless to the ground. I screamed again and wheeled around to point the gun at the other. He didn’t run or lunge at me. He smiled and cried, staying completely still.

“I love you, son. You are making the right choice, I promise. Tell your mother what happened. She will understand. I’m so proud of you, John. A father has never been as proud as I am of you. I’m sorry I failed you. This is my fault. Look at me, son,” he said. My eyes met his, and he stared into my soul. “This is not your fault. Do not hold this guilt inside of you. Learn from it, and one day when you come with your child, don’t make the same mistake.”

I nodded and wiped away a tear. My entire body shook.

“I can’t do it, Pop. Please just stand up, and let’s go home. I know it’s the real you; a monster wouldn’t tell me to kill him. Please.”

“Yes, he would, John. He would say whatever he thought he needed to. This is the only way. Take care of your mother, she’s going to go through a rough patch, but she’ll be okay. She always knew this might happen. We’ve talked about it. Everything is going to be fine. Just don’t forget to come back next year. You can’t run away from this, son.”

“I can’t, Pop. I can’t shoot you knowing that it’s the real you.”

“You have to. It’s what needs to be done. It’s okay. Close your eyes. Take a deep breath, and shoot.”

“Promise me that you are the real you.”

“I’m the real me. I promise. But you can’t trust me. It’s time, son. I love you. Give your mother a kiss goodbye for me.”

I put the gun down and ran to my father. It had to be him. No monster would say those things. No monster would tell me to kill it. If he were the copy, he would kill me the first chance he got. I hugged him, terrified that I would be ripped apart in the seconds that followed. My father wrapped his arms around me and hugged me tight.

“I can’t, Pop. I’m sorry, I just can’t.”

“It’s okay, son. Everything will be alright. Let’s go home.”