Chapter 8 - Philip


After spending the next Saturday working in Colonel Stoneridge's garden and practicing some skills that might come in handy, Rachel returned to the lodge on the following Wednesday for her sixth practice hunt.

She had her plan. The first thing she did once she left the lodge was to head for the special site she had selected. Although her hunter, a man named Philip, seemed nice enough when she met him, she didn't want to have to place her confidence in any more people than absolutely necessary. Once she got to her site, she began timing herself to see how quickly she could make her preparations. She hoped that it would take Amanda at least four hours to find her, but she realized that she might have as little as an hour and forty-five minutes in which to lay a false trail and get ready for Amanda. Today, if she made getting her basic preparations together her first order of business and then disassembling them her second, she should be able to set up, tear down, and then move on to finding the best way to leave the most misleading track possible. On the day of the real hunt, of course, the order would be reversed.

On this first dry-run, her time was an hour and fifteen minutes to get set up. Fortunately, it only took about twenty minutes to put everything back in order. By twelve o'clock, she was ready to go to the point where she planned to enter the woods on June 19 and start laying false tracks.

By three-thirty, she was confident that she had laid out network of deception that would give Amanda a real puzzle to solve. A good day's work.

Because time had been so important in the morning, Rachel had not bothered to deposit her tea-time snack at the cabin, but instead had carried it with her throughout the day. Her main reason for taking her break at the cabin was to leave some food for the rabbit who had been such a helpful catalyst in the formulation of her plan. The rabbit was already waiting for her when she got there.

Sharing carrots with the rabbit and stroking its fur, Rachel decided that an interesting way to spend the late afternoon and evening would be to go back to her starting point and track herself.

Trying to be as objective as she could, Rachel evaluated her own trail, trying to look at it through Amanda's eyes. Yes, she could see a few depressions in the soil, a few crushed leaves, some pressed-down grass. This should be easy enough to follow. In fact, Amanda might think it was too easy too follow and realize that she was being deliberately led or misled. So what? That would make Amanda all the more cautious and, therefore, she might even proceed more slowly. Fine.

After a while, Rachel became aware that the trail had become more distinct and she surmised that Philip had discovered it and she was now following him following her. She was gratified to see that he had been diverted by her false trails at least occasionally. She would have to assume that when Amanda came to a fork in the trail, she would guess right at least half the time, probably more. Rachel resolved to take to the trees at least a twice in order to compound the confusion.

Because she knew where she was going and Philip didn't, Rachel overtook Philip after about an hour. She decided to use the opportunity to test herself as to how close she could get to him and how long she could follow him before he realized that she was behind him. In their first hunt, using camouflage, she had been able to observe Amanda undetected from a group of trees. In fact, if Rachel had been armed with a bow and arrow, along with the will and skill to use them, she never would have found herself hanging by her ankles. Still, eventually Amanda had sensed her presence and taken off in pursuit of her. Amanda had complimented her skills. Obviously, though there was room for improvement.

Rachel was able to stay within ten feet of Philip for nearly an hour and he never gave an indication that he was aware of her.

Finally, Rachel looked at her watch and noticed that it was nearly seven-thirty. Time to call it a day.

Because she didn't want to scare him to death, Rachel began to whisper his name from a distance of five feet and gradually raised her voice until he finally turned in astonishment.

"Who's the hunter here?" Philip asked with a laugh and a red face.

"I'm still the quarry, but I've heard it said that the best defense is a good offense." Rachel decided to try for a terrible near-pun. "No offense intended, of course."

"None taken," Philip assured her. "Since you've clearly succeeded in both roles, may I buy you dinner at the lodge as a reward."

"Certainly, if you will give me you honest evaluation of the trail I left for you to follow. I've got some particular questions I'd like to have answered."

"It will be my pleasure. Ask away."

Philip's comments were very detailed and potentially useful. All the way back to the lodge and through most of the dinner, Rachel questioned and Philip answered.

It wasn't until they were having some after dinner wine that the topic changed.

Rachel was finding that the members of the hunting lodge were a more diverse group than she had expected.

Similar to that of Stone, Philip's attitude about real hunts in which women were killed and eaten was negative. However, whereas the colonel seemed willing to take a tolerant, this-too-shall-pass approach, Philip was much more strident on the subject, almost annoyingly so.

"It's totally reprehensible that women feel compelled to endanger themselves in order to better themselves financially. The people who take advantage of that kind of desperation are hardly any better than brutal ruffians who exploit the innocent through physical force. Utilizing power and position to revel in the suffering of the downtrodden is what caused heads to roll in France and the Czar to go up against the wall in Russia. Rich people killing poor people - in the final analysis, that's what this people-hunting amounts to." Philip paused long enough to take a sip of his after-dinner wine.

"Well, not everybody does it for money," Rachel pointed out. "For example, I, myself..."

"Imagine the injustice and social waste involved in killing some poor college student who was only trying to pay her tuition?" Philip cut her off. "How can a person with any shred of decency or concern for the good of society contemplate such a course?"

"It isn't like anybody is forced to..."

"Now, a hunter like this American woman Dillon - she kills off the scum of society, the dregs of the human cesspool. Public service." Philip snorted. "But a demonic bitch like Amanda Blake - she delights in depriving the world of its best and brightest. Nothing short of treason against the human race."

"But her quarry choose to put themselves in..."

"No! Begging your pardon, but they did not choose to put themselves at an economic disadvantage. If anything, they are trying to reverse the course that they were placed in by the unfairness of an economic system that fails to reward talent and enterprise and hard work. Anyone who would dangle the temptation of easy money in front of such a person striving for self improvement in order to lure that individual to her death deserves nothing short of a trip to the gallows."

Rachel didn't like to hear Amanda spoken of in those terms and she felt anger building within her.

"Listen to me!" Rachel said, loudly enough that Cheryl and Sam at the bar perked up their ears. "Why are you even here, if you feel that way? And if you want to see this hunting come to a stop, what do you intend to do about it?"

"Well, the ultimate solution is to create an economic system with more justice in it," Philip declared. "The only way to do that is organize the working classes so that they can demand fair, living wages that allow them to live in decent conditions and to achieve their dreams without having to endanger themselves."

"Sounds like a wonderful idea. Why aren't you out doing that instead of chasing me through the woods and then having dinner with me?"

"Well, if you really want to know, I'm hoping to persuade you to drop out of letting Amanda Blake hunt you."

Rachel realized that this should not have come as a surprise, but it did.

"Thank you for your concern, Philip. I'm willing to listen. Why do you want me to drop out?"

"Because Amanda Blake is a blood-thirsty bitch who has killed too many people already and she certainly doesn't need to have you lie down for her, too. I understand you proposed this whole thing. Why on earth did you do that? You seem like a sensible, rational, non-suicidal woman. Why would you choose to sacrifice yourself to that monster?"

"Well, first, I don't intend to lie down for her. Second, I had all kinds of reasons for making my offer, which I never thought would be accepted. If you were to ask me why I don't back out, I'll admit, I'm not so sure I could give a good answer. But I think you should know that I do like Amanda, and I do think of her as a human being."

"I don't think you realize what an utterly, purely evil creature Amanda is. Why do you think she does what she does?" Philip asked.

"She likes to eat people." Rachel thought she was on pretty safe grounds. "She isn't the only person who does, you know."

"Rachel," Philip said, leaning forward, "eating people is only a secondary thing for Amanda. What she really likes to do is to kill people. Look, I suppose you feel some kind of gratitude to her for having saved your life, right?"

"Well, there is that. Yes."

"Why do you suppose she did that?"

"She said that the poacher had spoiled things. It was interference. She couldn't let me just die."

"Why not?"

"Well, because..."

"If she was that interested in eating you, why didn't she just let you expire and put on her bib and tucker?"

"Because... I don't know." Rachel had asked herself these questions many times and had come up with her own answers, but somehow it was different when they came from another person.

"She didn't eat you because it didn't matter one or another to her if she did or not. What mattered to her was that she wanted to kill you. She wanted to take your life. She enjoys killing just for the sake of killing. When somebody beat her to it in your case, she was so disappointed, that she decided to save you, NOT because she cared about you, but because she didn't want somebody else to have had the satisfaction. She didn't do it for you; she did it to spite the poacher."

"Well, she had already killed him. I think that's probably spiteful enough."

"Rachel, you don't get it." Philip searched for a metaphor. "Look, you've seen those film noir flicks where a woman says to her man, 'If I can't have you, nobody can!" and then she empties a gun into his abdomen?"

Rachel nodded.

"Amanda saving your life was nothing more than a twisted variation on that. 'If I can't kill you, nobody can!'"

Rachel looked skeptical.

"Rachel, the only way she could have a chance at having the exquisite pleasure of killing you later would be to save your life then."

"Philip, I think you are skipping over the obvious fact that, once Amanda had killed the poacher, she could have come back and finished me off right then, that very night."

"Well, you were unconscious from shock and loss of blood, right?" Philip asked.

"Yes. So what? I was still alive."

"But what fun would there be in killing an unconscious woman?"

"Fun? I'm not sure I know what you mean by 'fun.'"

"I mean, of course, Amanda's idea of fun." Philip became very intense. "Why kill you when she couldn't see the fear in your eyes? When you couldn't feel the pain of the knife? When Amanda wouldn't be able to see tears come to your eyes as you realized that it was really all over? She would want to see you mourn for all the joys and pleasures you would miss as all your opportunities vanished into blackness. She would want to watch as you shuddered with regret at the sorrow your death would cause your loved ones. She would want you to experience guilt at all the favors you were leaving unreturned. She might even remind you of all the goals you would never reach and how you had wasted your life preparing to strive for them."

Philip's voice became haunting as he continued. "She would want you to realize the completeness of your loss, the finality of it all. She would want to see the flash of panic in your eyes as you began to feel your awareness slipping away. Your tremors of fear would be enhanced as you began to shiver from the cold as your body's heat drained away with your blood. You might be unable to speak, wishing that you could beg for even a few more minutes of life but incapable even of that. She would revel in your frustration, your utter helplessness.

"Perhaps most of all, she would want you to see the smile on her face, her look of amusement and pleasure. Her smugness as she basked in the notion that she would continue, but you would end. She would delight in your realization this complete sacrifice of everything that you were or could be served no purpose other than to give her the satisfaction of destroying something more beautiful than she could ever be - a caring, loving, sensitive human being. You were dying only because she wanted it. No other purpose would be served by your sacrifice.

"Watching you die in agony and regret and sorrow would satisfy, but only temporarily, Amanda's desire to cause as much suffering as she can. That was why it didn't seem right to kill you. That was why her mood was ruined." Philip sat back in his chair. "Now, admit, Rachel, Amanda would have missed out on that if she would have killed you while you were unconscious."

Rachel swallowed. "Philip, what you say about Amanda is untrue. Amanda did her best to make things as pleasant for me as possible. It was a highly personal experience and there are intimate details that I won't share with you. Amanda prepared me for what was about to happen to me. I was in a very pleasant state of mind. She had taken the fear out of death from me."

"But," Philip said, "she never actually put the knife into you, did she?"

"No."

"Then Rachel, you never saw the curtain come down. There is a difference between dying and being about to die. You really don't know what your actual last minutes would have been like. You experienced the penultimate, not the ultimate."

"It wouldn't have been as you describe." Rachel was firm.

"But if I am right about Amanda, then, obviously, killing you while you were unconscious would not have been satisfying to her."

"If." Rachel was laconic.

"Well, grant me that 'if,' and you must admit that my explanation for why she saved you makes sense."

"Obviously, that's true. But Amanda never expected to have another hunt with me. She was genuinely surprised when I made my proposal."

"And how do you know that?"

"Well, I feel it more than know it. But I am sure that Amanda wouldn't lie to me."

"Would she tell you the whole truth unless you asked her a specific question?"

"What do you mean?"

"Rachel, has she ever said that she's glad you're alive? In so many words?"

"Not in so many words, no."

"If it were true, don't you think she would have said so."

Rachel stiffened a bit. "I don't think Amanda is very open with her feelings with anyone."

"What feelings? What on earth makes you think she has feelings?"

"She's a human being."

"Maybe in the sense that she has thirty-two teeth, opposable thumbs, and no tail. That doesn't mean that she has feelings anything like you or I or any normal person. Do you know what a sociopath is?"

"I had my intro to psych course."

"I don't know what term would fit her best: sociopath, psychopath, anti-social personality, narcissistic personality. But what all those terms have in common is a complete inability to empathize with others, a total incapacity to appreciate the pain she is causing. She may draw some amusement from it, but, otherwise, nothing. She has no appreciation for the wants, desires, or rights of others."

Rachel shook her head. "Amanda isn't like that."

"And what makes you say that?"

"Well, for one thing, she doesn't rape. She could have forced me to do anything she wanted, but she gave me a choice."

It was Philip's turn to shake his head. "So what? You think that's a virtue? A sign of respect? Rachel, don't tell me that you aren't enough of a feminist to know that rape isn't about sex or pleasure - it's about power. One thing Amanda certainly doesn't need is confirmation of her power. She doesn't rape because she already has complete power over her prey. And she's probably pretty indifferent to sex, anyway. That's almost always the case with females with anti-social personalities."

"Philip, with all due respect, you can't possibly know what you're talking about." Rachel didn't want to talk about the subject, but she did add, "For your information, Amanda is a very good lover."

"I'm sure you have concrete experience to back that up, but I would submit - and, I admit, based on no real experience whatsoever - that she is not a good lover, but a good technician. In order to be a lover, you have to care about your partner. Amanda doesn't give a shit about her partners, I'm sure. If I'm not being too graphic, she might enjoy them the way a woman might enjoy a vibrator, but once the battery begins to run down, she turns it off and puts it away. She doesn't have any feelings for you or anybody else, at least not positive ones."

Rachel was beginning to get impatient. "That simply isn't true. Amanda likes me. She asked me out on a date, even after I had said I wouldn't do another hunt."

"Anti-social personalities can be very seductive. They can give their victims the impression that they like them."

"But Amanda said she wanted to eat me so that I would become a part of her."

Philip looked at Rachel questioningly. "This idea of becoming a part of Amanda - did she say that or did you say it and she agreed with you?"

"Well, as a matter of fact, the words came from me, and she said 'You understand!'"

"Rachel, don't you know anything about con artists? That's a favorite ploy. Agree with your victim, your mark. Compliment the mark's perception."

"But Amanda did say that she was going to take me home with her. That she was going to be eating me for a long time. I called it serial monogamy."

"I bet she thought that was cute. And she probably made you think you were clever for thinking of it that way." Philip laughed. "What did you expect her to say? That she was going to eat your best parts and chuck the rest of you into the dumpster? Rachel, dear, you've been had."

Rachel slammed her hand on the table. "Amanda is not deceptive. She is not a liar. She has principles."

"No. She doesn't have any principles. She has rules. Rules for a game that she always wins. Rules that she made up just to make it more interesting for her. If she makes a promise to someone and decides to keep it, it's just to keep her from getting bored. Her rules have nothing to do with anybody else's welfare. For example, she won't hunt anybody that she doesn't have a license to hunt, but that's only because the law says people have to give informed consent."

"Are you saying she doesn't care that her quarry give consent?"

"Not a bit. If she, by some fluke, could get a license that allowed her to hunt anybody, she would happily mow down any innocent that she took a fancy to. Rachel, she likes to kill people, period."

"You mean she doesn't care who she kills?"

"Oh, of course, she does. For one thing, she only wants to kill people who don't want to die. There are such people as spit muffins, but Amanda isn't interested in them. The more a woman wants to live, the more Amanda wants to kill her. The more intelligence and good looks and potential for a good life that a woman has, the more Amanda wants to kill her. If a woman doesn't have something Amanda could be jealous of, Amanda isn't interested in her."

"Amanda? Jealous?" Rachel forced a laugh. "You're attributing all kinds of power and ability to her, and yet you say she's jealous? What has she got to be jealous of?"

"Well, Rachel, whoever gave you the idea that a person can be jealous only of others who have more than she does? Amanda's jealousy is of the worse sort. She is jealous of people who have fewer advantages than she does. She wants to take what little they have away from them."

"Why would anybody behave, think, act the way you say Amanda does?"

"Do you remember," Philip asked, "the quote from Greek drama that goes like this: 'We are to the gods as flies to wanton boys; they kill us for their sport.' That's the most acceptable motive Amanda has - she does it for sport, for the fun of it."

"Amanda doesn't think of herself as a goddess. I mean, the goddess most associated with death and destruction is Kali, and Amanda has specifically said she is not like Kali."

"And she's perfectly right. Kali's destructiveness works for the good of the world, of the human race. Kali is the mother who eats some of her children in order that other children may live. There are other goddess figures who bring death to the weak and suffering. Amanda operates purely from selfish considerations. She may not think of herself as a goddess, but she does think of everyone else as her inferiors."

"Everyone?"

"Of course. Have you ever noticed how often when she's asked a serious question, she replies with some glib, flippant quote from a tv show or a poem or a song? Especially when the question has moral implications? Now, I can only think of three reasons why a person would do that habitually. One, the person hasn't the intelligence to come up with an answer of her own - and one thing I will admit about Amanda: she is intelligent. Two, when a person examines her own actions and motivations, she finds them so repugnant, so horrifying that she can't face the reality and so she dismisses the matter with a witty retort, diverting the attention of the questioner, and herself, to her cleverness rather than her character. I could be wrong, but I don't think that Amanda is capable of that kind of introspection and self-criticism. Third, the person doesn't think the questioner deserves a serious, thoughtful answer. I think that has to be the reason why Amanda does it."

"Well, for your information," Rachel said indignantly, "Amanda has never been flip or glib with me."

"Never?"

"Never."

"Well, maybe she knows you would be offended by it," Philip conceded. "And, if you're offended, you won't give her what she wants, which is your tacit consent to kill you. She does like to trick people into being 'okay' with the fact that she's going to kill them. It's part of her game."

"Philip, I don't know what experience with Amanda your opinion of her is based on, but I know her and I disagree."

"Can you offer any evidence at all that I'm wrong?" Philip's question was not rhetorical.

"Well, the only real evidence I have is what I feel about her," Rachel admitted.

"Oh, wonderful!" Philip laughed heartily. "You are - what is that expression so popular with lesbians? You are 'listening to your gut,' paying heed to 'what your gut tells you.'"

Rachel was a little embarrassed that, in fact, that was what she was doing.

"Well, Rachel, my dear, if you continue to listen to your gut and not your head, very soon your gut will not only be speaking to you, but if it knows sign language, you will be able to read its message as your viscera dangle before your eyes. You don't seriously believe you have a chance against her, do you?"

"All I really have to do is stay away from her. That can be done."

"Oh, yes. Your agreement with her. I've heard about the terms. You don't seriously expect her to honor them, do you?"

"Of course, I do!" Rachel was genuinely shocked.

"You really expect that, if Amanda doesn't catch you, she'll just calmly walk back to the lodge and turn herself in?"

"Of course. What do you expect?"

"I expect that if it doesn't look like she will be successful, she will simply wait for you at the edge of the woods and shoot you in the back when you try to return to the lodge, thinking you are safe."

"That won't happen. Amanda wouldn't do that."

"I'd ask if you would like to make a small wager on that, but you are already betting your life on it and I think that will be sufficient loss for you. Besides, how would I collect?" Philip laughed.

"How can you be so sure of all of this?" Rachel asked.

"Oh, I'm not absolutely sure of every single thing I've said, but I'm sure you suspect that some of what I've said is correct. Otherwise, I don't think you would have listened this long. But my life doesn't depend on being right. Yours does."

Rachel was exhausted. Still, she had one more thing to ask. "Why are you here? I don't mean here tonight; I mean, why are you a member of this lodge?"

"Oh, it's a sort of family tradition. Male members of the family back four or five generations have been members of this lodge. I'm just following in the footsteps, as it were. Mostly, I just hunt the ordinary, four-legged or feathered game here. I do enjoy the idea of chasing naked young women around and I've even brought a few girlfriends out here. The idea of being pursued in such a literal fashion is exciting for some women. It's fun when it's a game of pretending." Philip got dreamy-eyed for a moment. "It's a lot of fun."

"I'm sure," Rachel said sullenly.

Suddenly, Philip's manner changed. He clenched his teeth and shook his head, as though trying to dislodge an unpleasant thought

"What's wrong?" Rachel was concerned.

"Well," Philip said, with a voice that almost cracked with emotion, "there are some sweet, innocent, playful girls who don't understand that it isn't fun and games for people like Amanda Blake. Girls who can't believe what will really happen to them if they decide that they would like to impress their boyfriends by being able to say, 'Hey, guess what? I let myself be hunted for real! It was a blast!' Girls who have always been so charming and pretty that they have been able to talk themselves out of any tight spot. Girls who don't believe that anybody would really want to hurt them." Finally, the voice did crack and the words were mixed with sobs. "Only... they... never get to tell their boyfriend that cute story about their big, exciting adventure... because..." The words stopped completely and there were only sobs.

Rachel didn't need to hear the rest of the story.

She just reached over and touched Philip's hand and said, "I'm sorry."

She held his hand until the sobs stopped and the stiff upper lip returned.

Finally, he said, "I should have just told her, 'Cindy, don't ever do this for real.' Seven words I didn't take the time to say."

Philip rose from the table and said, "I do have to be running along. Before I go though, let me say as clearly and simply as I can: Don't let Amanda hunt you."

"I think I've got that point. Thank you, Philip. I know that you mean well. I appreciate that."

"Oh, there is one more thing." Philip leaned over the table and said, very quietly, "If by any odd chance, you should actually happen to be successful and you wind up with Amanda's life in your hands, if you want somebody to steady your hand for you while you cut her throat, please give me a call. I'll be more than happy to be there."

"I'll keep that in mind."

On her way home, Rachel analyzed her conversation with Philip.

He was hurt and he was grieving and he was filled with guilt for his part in getting someone to take a foolish risk.

He hated Amanda. He wasn't too keen on himself, either.

That didn't mean he was wrong.

It didn't mean that everything he said was right, either.

Amanda did terrible things.

That wasn't news.

The idea that Amanda would lie to her wasn't news, either. It was simply untrue.

Rachel was sure of that.

It was late when she got home.

Nevertheless, she made a phone call.

"Hello?"

"Amanda?"

A short pause. "Hello, Rachel."

"I had my practice hunt with Philip today."

"I know. That is, I've seen your schedule."

"Do you know how he feels about you?"

A pause. "He's spoken his mind to me on numerous occasions. He's also expressed himself in writing. Would you like to see the letters? I keep all of my... fan mail of a certain type."

"That won't be necessary."

"You two talked, then?"

"Yes."

"Very much?"

"Yes."

"I see."

A pause on Rachel's side. "Did you have any special reason for recommending that I accept a challenge from him."

"I thought that you had a right to hear what he has to say." A pause. "I also felt that he had a right to express himself to you."

"I see."

A long pause. "Do you still want to get together on June nineteenth at the lodge?"

"Yes. Do you?"

"Yes."

"I'll see you on the nineteenth."

"Yes. Take care of yourself in the meantime, Rachel."

"You take care of yourself, too, Amanda."

"Thanks for calling, Rachel."

"Thanks for being up so late."

A pause. "Good-bye, Rachel."

"Good-bye, Amanda."

As she hung up the phone, Rachel said to herself, no, Amanda wouldn't lie to me. Philip was wrong about that much, at least.



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