Point Of Impact Stephen Hunter Books Novels & Stories

He jabbed his finger at Audrey like she wasn’t already trembling in shock between us. And then I saw it. The pattern. Hunters aiming close but never hitting her, never close enough to kill. The chaos wasn’t random. It was a funnel. Every path of fire pushed toward the same center point, Audrey. “Shit,” I whispered. “Don’t whisper it, do something!” Adrian yelled, shoving me like this was my fault. “You think I don’t know that?” I snapped, lunging at him before Caleb shoved us apart like he was done babysitting toddlers.

He then screamed back at me, “Freya, why are you not helping me? We need to get them out!” I sipped my beer and watched as the hunter in cell three was charging towards Finnley. I could have warned him, but he needed to realize, we couldn't just let these deranged hybrids out. He screwed his face up at me, clearly not happy with my lack of concern. He turned back around to face cell three, and as he did, the hunter had half shifted and then ran headfirst into the cell wall. Finnley startled, and then as he jumped backwards, he slipped and fell onto the floor.

After that, a different kind of satisfaction came across me. I enjoyed hunting these human hunters, thus, killing 10 werewolves and being the youngest and best werewolf hunter. Rendall killed 8 werewolves which are also not that bad, Quinn is setting poisonous traps and putting some on the bows granting her 4 kills. We make a great team. “Let’s go, Raffi.” I turned and saw Rendall brushing his mid-length hair using his fingers. “Are you going on a date?” I asked him as I scanned his clothes.

I repeat, my teeth clenched as I notice Hunter's grip on the gun tightens. "Of course, sir." She comments, running out of the room. With each moment ticking by, the Reaper's patience seems to diminish. Hunter cocks the gun, getting ready to shoot me. "I'm not a patient man, Mr. Westshire." Hunter exclaims, pulling back on the trigger. I close my eyes instinctively, anticipating feeling a bullet pass through me. When I don't I slowly open one eye, wondering why I'm not screaming out in pain. "Do you like to play games?" Hunter asks, his face void of emotion.

said Josh. “Do as you please,” Tyler said. Josh raised his foot and started kicking as his whole body suddenly penetrated the church. Because of what happened, Josh fell to the floor. Tyler came in and looked around. “Hugo seems to have succeeded,” Josh said as he stood up. “Of course, he’s a hunter,” Tyler said, smiling. Tyler started walking, and Josh followed.

" As he turned his gaze to the lying body, Higgins spoke out against her overreaction. "What's the deal with your stare?" He inquired, seemingly piqued by the tenacity in her imagined grin. "So you're the hunter that Rachel kept telling about. Paul Higgins, the renowned and experienced warrior hunter who became stranded on this continent and incorporated magic into his..." She was led to confess everything she knew about him, at least the scratched surface information that she had been exposed to. "Shut up, little girl." Higgins blurted in a clear-cut manner. As he strutted to the door, he walked over the inquisitor's laying arm, listening for an incoming sound.

HeCTOR In the woods, we walk like zombies; weak and without direction, with no rest, for a very long time, far away from the spot the attack occurred. Hunter's pulse keeps diminishing and his breathing hardens as though it is a miracle to breathe. I tied a tight cloth I tore from my cloth around his wounds to prevent further bleeding, and right now, it is soaked, with Hunter’s condition demanding proper care. After putting up in a supposed safe place for the night, we began to walk to find our way home even though we seem lost, the sure thing is we are never taking a step further.

But in the rest, I don't need her. "You know what Hunter? " "what?" I asked back cookey and confidence and power. At that moment she looked straight into my eyes, for the first time I can see all the pain flowing through her body and mind, and I can see the limit she had, the riching point when she just can't take it anymore.

It seemed desolate, as if Jeniece had never come back since that day. A rusted rack caught his attention, and upon it lay a pile of books, their covers worn and edges worn. He reached for one, its brittle pages crumbling in his hands, each page stained with the yellow hue of age. These books, ancient and forgotten, held secrets that had been hidden in plain sight, truths we had been blind to. Just as Hunter began to delve into the faded words, a shiver ran down his spine. He wasn't alone. Instinctively, he spun around, his whip slicing through the air with deadly speed. But before the whip could find its mark, it was caught mid-strike.

I sucked in a breath and nodded. He was right. The outline was nothing compared to the shading as he colored in the design… which I still had yet to see. I flinched at the pain. The feeling was more annoying than actual pain. It was like a constant stinging or burning that never seemed to end as it dragged across my skin over and over again. It felt like talons were digging into sun burnt flesh, already scorched and in need of reprieve. Now and then, he wiped away the ink and blood but always returned with his head lowered in stoic form. His face was a wall of complete concentration, hand perfectly steady. Maybe that’s why he was such a great hunter. Firm. Stable.