A Smooth, White Cap
He thought he had the upper hand. That wasn’t even his worst mistake.
Inmate 1455902 Asa Adkins loved this part—the hunt.
He was used to city streets, though; this was not his comfort zone. He wasn't dressed for it, and he’d severely twisted his ankle on the rough, uneven terrain.
He had no idea where they were at this point. Even so, Adkins had no difficulty tracking her—she was oblivious to the fact that he was stalking her, not the other way around. She was out of her depth; he could easily see that.
How did someone this stupid become a federal agent? he wondered hatefully.
She seemed to be wandering deeper into the wilderness. Zigzagging aimlessly, she wasn't on his trail—not even close—and he comfortably paced her, even with his shitty ankle.
He didn't care if they never left this forest. He had nothing to go back to except a prison cell—and maybe now they'd even give him the electric chair. No, he would stay right here, take his time, and have fun playing with his new toy.
* * *
It had been three days. Adkins watched and learned. This dumb bitch was teaching him everything he needed to survive out here. She led him to fresh water and showed him what to forage. He drank where she did and ate the same sour berries and bitter seeds. This morning, there were mushrooms for breakfast. It was better than nothing.
His swollen ankle was purple and angry—and he was growing bored. Impatient. Adkins felt a deep loathing as he watched her scribble in her little notebook as she knelt by the stream. With her out of his way, he could hide out and rest a while. Then, he would figure out his next move.
He tracked her silently for a few more miles as he luxuriated in his options—the when, the where, and especially the how.
* * *
Adkins began to feel tired, and his pace slowed. He had completely lost sight of the agent. However, she periodically left footprints on the soft earth or broke low branches as she traveled. She was so careless; tracking her was too easy. And then this: she'd accidentally dropped a small sheet of paper. It was mixed in the leaf litter ahead of him on her path. It read:
“Amanita bisporigera (Destroying Angel) is one of the most toxic mushrooms found in North America. It has a smooth, white cap and a thin stem with a skirt-like ring near the top. Even a small amount can be fatal. Symptoms show 5 to 24 hours after eating and include exhaustion, intense stomach pain, delusions, and violent vomiting and diarrhea. Without medical treatment, it can cause kidney or liver failure and almost always leads to death.”
* * *
Federal Agent Alexis Reed loved this part—the mindfuck.
From her perch, she watched Adkins wheel around, his head whipping from side to side as he looked for her. She smiled as he read the note again and then tore it up in a fruitless rage. There was nothing to do now but wait. Before long, he’d be happy for his arrest.