Taxis zipped through the lower east side, honking and cutting people off. Vince, a mid-level executive in a flannel shirt that seemed at odds with his slicked back hair, waited on the sidewalk for his ride with his hands in his pockets and a Yankees duffel bag by his feet. His iPhone buzzed. He pulled it out and checked the caller ID—Dave.

He clicked the button and heard the heavy Bronx accent of his best friend from college. “Yo! Who’s ready to go hunting with their billionaire boss?”

“You sound chipper about spending the day killing Bambi.”

A used 1991 BMW with peeling brown paint pulled up to the curb. Dave rolled down the window wearing a ridiculous plaid hunting hat with giant ear flaps. “If it means I get to trade in this piece of junk, I’d hunt Lassie.” 

Vince hung up the phone. “Isn’t that what you do every Friday night at the clubs?”

“A piece of tail is a piece of tail, you know what I mean?”

“Not even a little.”

“Doesn’t matter. I’m pumped for the big day.” Dave popped the trunk.

Vince tossed the duffel bag in and then jumped into the passenger seat.  

The BMW journeyed through the rough and tumble streets of the city, across the highway, and onto the windy roads of upstate New York. With every minute that passed, the houses and mom-and-pop businesses melted into the distance, and the only thing surrounding the vehicle was a wall of cottonwood, sycamore, and pine trees. Vince stared ahead, indifferent to the moment, much to Dave’s frustration. “You do realize that the CFO, COO and President of Sales were all given those cushy titles right after being invited on the hunting trip, right?”

Vince nodded, well-aware, but still not worth getting his hopes up.

“The hunting trip is like code for ‘you did it, welcome to the rich people club.’”

Vince ignored Dave and stared at the trees passing by.

“Why aren’t you more excited?”

“It’s been a rough year at the company, Dave.” 

“Rough year, my ass. We’re all stars, Vincey. We revamped the entire admin department.”

“We updated a filing system, Davey.”

“You mean we implemented a robust data management process and reorganized workflow.” Dave shook his head. “You better not talk like that around Isaac.”

“Mr. Gilroy,” Vince corrected.

“To you maybe.”

“Dave, admin is admin. We’re at the bottom of the food chain.”

“Why do you have to be so negative.”

“To balance out your fantasy world.”

Dave’s jaw dropped in shock. “My fantasy world? Give me one example of—”

“The can’t-lose black-jack betting system.”

“Give me two examples—”

“High school prom, Lisa Glover.”

Dave furrowed his brow. “Why do you have to always go there?”  

“I just want you to keep things in perspective. Gilroy isn’t always playing with a full deck. We don’t know where we stand, and don’t forget we just laid off a bunch of people, including a few who were higher than us.”
       “Who?”

“Austen and Billingsley.”

Dave relented. Maybe Vince was right. After mulling it over for a split second longer, Dave pounded the steering wheel with joy. “You’re right, we’re probably getting their spots!”

Vince groaned and shook his head. It was useless trying to pull Dave’s head out of the clouds.

“Six-figure salaries, company car, a corporate credit card. I bet we even get a gym membership. It will be the whole deal. You’ll see,” Dave said.

Vince cranked up the radio to drown out the noise pollution as they turned off the main road and onto a secluded dirt trail. Several miles later, they pulled into a rocky parking lot where Isaac Gilroy, in a top-of-the-line camouflage outfit, laced up his boots. A double dose of intimidating, the media magnate looked like a cross between Clint Eastwood and a pit bull.    

Dave burst out of the car. “Mr. Gilroy, so great to see you.”

“Out here, it’s just Isaac. No formalities,” Isaac said in a calm, but uncomfortable, monotone voice. “It’s part of what I love about the outdoors.”

Dave faux-admired the beauty of the trees. “Yeah, me too, Isaac.”  

The billionaire ignored the brown nosing and smelled the air. “It’s so pure and peaceful.” After a moment of soaking in nature’s calm, Isaac opened the back of his gas guzzling Hummer and produced a weapon from hell. “Look at this baby. Browning semi-automatic. Sounds like a howitzer when you fire it. It takes .338 Winchester Magnums and has a laser scope with night vision.” 

The gleaming weapon looked lethal, and to Dave’s immature eyes, ridiculously rad. He reached out to grab it.

“Oh, no. First timers get the .22.” Isaac removed two .22 rifles and handed one to Vince and the other to Dave. Compared to Isaac’s portable cannon, they looked like a couple of BB guns. 

 

The hunt begins. 

 

The trio wore bright orange vests as they trekked deep into the backwoods of New York’s lush forest. Isaac crept like a predator through the woods—eyes and ears on high alert for the slightest hint of prey. Vince and Dave ambled a couple of steps behind Isaac with their rifles slung over their shoulders. 

Dave yawned. “It sure is quiet out here.” 

Isaac turned and shot Dave a death stare. Vince smacked his buddy on the shoulder. 

Dave swallowed and whispered to Isaac. “Thank you for inviting us. This is really fun…” and then he muttered under his breath, “like going to my Nana’s funeral.” 

Isaac stopped in his tracks and stood tall. Dave held his breath.

“We’re here,” Isaac said.

Dave exhaled with relief. “So, where’s the home base… outpost… thingy? Maybe a cooler full of brewskies?”

Vince attempted to cover for his friend’s ignorance. “There’s no base, Dave. We’ll hide in tree stands, right?”

Dave glanced up. No tree stands. 

Isaac ignored their banter. “I love getting away from it all. Out here there’s no rat race, no office politics—just the uncompromising laws of nature. Kill or be killed. Know what I mean, boys?”

Without hesitation, Vince and Dave blurted out, “No.”

“I don’t like the rat race. In fact, I don’t like rats.” Isaac chambered a bullet. “Hate ‘em. Know what I mean now?”

Vince held up his hand, defensive and scared. “Whoa, whoa, whoa. We’re hard workers, Isaac. We’re not rats.”

“Yeah, we’re worker bees,” Dave chimed in to help with their case. 

Vince eyed him—worker bees? 

“No. Not worker bees.” Flustered, Dave adlibbed. “We’re the early bird. We get the worm, Isaac.” 

Vince still glared at his friend. 

Dave shrugged. “What? I was keeping with the animal theme.”

Vince waved at Dave to keep his mouth shut and then turned to Isaac. “Look at what we’ve done for the admin department.”

Dave jumped in. He was prepared for this one. “That’s right, Isaac. We invented a robust data management process and reorganized workflow.” 

Isaac fired a shot into the sky and the thundering boom silenced Vince and Dave. “You don’t think I see through your BS buzz words? You two clowns are bumbling your way through the company and pawning your work off on everyone else.”  

“We delegate,” Dave said in a pleading whisper.

“I bet you make taking a crap sound like an accomplishment.” 

Dave couldn’t help himself. “Internal reorganization and elimination of non-essential overhead.”  

Isaac didn’t blink. “And you probably think I’m going to reward you two idiots for coming up with a better way to organize files, don’t you?”

“No sir, the thought never crossed our minds,” Dave said. 

Vince shook his head in support. “We’re just happy to have our jobs, sir. We’ll do better.”  

Isaac cocked his head and rubbed his chin. “I’m a sporting man, so I’m going to give you two knuckleheads a chance. I’m going to count to twenty.”

“And then you’ll be calmer?” Vince asked, hoping against hope.

Isaac chambered another round and tucked the rifle against his shoulder. Nope.  

Dave forced a laugh. “Ha-ha. Isaac’s a kidder.”

Isaac raised the barrel. “One, two, three…”

Dave’s fake smile disappeared. He and Vince stared at Isaac, then at each other, with the same thought running through their mind. Could he be serious?

The countdown continued. “Four, five, six, seven, eight…” 

Yep. He was deadly serious. They turned and bolted, sprinting through the trees with only seconds to spare.

“Fifteen, sixteen, seventeen…”

Gripping his .22, Dave realized something. “Why are we running? We have guns, too.”

“I’m not shooting my boss. This has got to be a joke.” 

“Twenty!” Isaac shouted. 

A burst of gunfire whistled by them and exploded in a nearby tree trunk, showering them with splinters. Vince and Dave ran blindly, as fast as their legs would carry them, with no idea where they were going. Breathing heavily, they came upon a cluster of fallen pines. 

Vince stopped. “Hold up. Hold up,” he said, sucking wind. “You go behind that log and I’ll hide behind this one over here.”  

“Why? He’s an old man. Let’s keep running.”

“He’s leading us deeper into the forest. We’ll wait for him to come and then… you know…” Vince jabbed the air with his gun as if it was a knife.

Dave shook his head, confused. “Stab him with the barrel of our dinky guns?”

“No. We take him down. We’ve got two rifles, and we’ll have him covered from both sides.”

“I thought you didn’t want to shoot the boss.”

“That was before he shot at us.” 

Dave got on board with the plan, and they took off their orange vests, tossed them aside, and got into position. The forest grew eerily quiet as they waited, barely able to breathe for fear it might give them away. 

A twig cracked and pierced the silence. 

In the distance, Isaac crept through the shadows like a lion on the prowl. He spotted the hunting vests on the ground, moved closer, and a wicked grin spread across his face. “For years, I’ve been watching you bozos try to hide those company lunches at Fogo de Chao. You suck asses are bad at hiding, so you may as well not try.”  

Vince peered through his scope and clicked the safety off. He had Isaac square in his sights. 

Dave also had a beat on him and set up to fire, and with his best action hero delivery, quipped, “Suck on this, Mr. Gilroy.” 

Dave and Vince squeezed their triggers. Click. Click. The rifles were empty.

Isaac roared with laughter. “You idiots! You thought I’d give you loaded guns?”

Angry and scared, Vince yelled back, “You said you were a sporting man!”

“And your resume said you were ‘Employee of the Year’ at Ellington Inc. You didn’t think we check on those things?” 

Isaac fired a volley toward Vince’s voice.  

Dave shouted, “Run, Vince! Save yourself!” 

Dave stood and ran in the opposite direction, drawing Isaac away, who pursued firing shots as Dave ducked in and out of bushes.  

Grateful for Dave’s selfless act, Vince fled in the other direction, but he tripped and slid down an embankment. He brushed the leaves and dirt off at the bottom and then spotted a log cabin in the distance. He dashed over and pounded on the front door. With an eerie squeak, it creaked open. 

“Hello?”

No answer. 

Vince hesitated only a moment before stepping in and locking the door behind him. He turned and surveyed the surroundings. The upscale cabin had a full wine cabinet, a marble kitchen, and a handcrafted dining table. This was not just anyone’s cabin. This was a rich person’s cabin—a very rich person. Vince’s stomach knotted up as he grabbed a framed picture off of the mantle. Isaac’s crazy eyes and ear-to-ear smile teased him as he posed with a massive dead bear. Vince’s world spun like a horror movie as he looked up at the walls of the living room, where dozens of mounted animals stared at him with dead eyes. There were two bucks with gigantic antlers, a scowling mountain lion, a ferocious bear, and then the biggest, most ghastly shock of all—human heads. 

Vince’s horrified gaze zeroed in on two of them with the names engraved underneath—Bob Billingsley and Tyler Austen. The poor men wore terrified looks on their faces.

Isaac shouted from outside. “Vince, it’s just you and me now. Dave’s been taken care of.”

Vince fought back a tear as he glanced back at the stuffed heads and imagined Dave’s head amongst them. And maybe his own would be there, too. His anguish gave way to anger. Dave scrambled about the cabin, searching for a weapon until he came upon a fire poker and seized it. He hid in the coat closet near the front door and waited. Huddled amidst a cluster of winter jackets, Vince shook with fear, which only amplified when the lock to the cabin twisted, and the front door creaked open. 

Isaac’s heavy boots thudded against the mahogany wood floor. “Don’t fight it Vince, I’m a good shot. I promise I’ll end it in one.” 

It was now or never, do or die, or whatever other cliché Vince could think of to give himself the courage he needed. He burst out of the closet and swung the metal rod with all his might, but Isaac effortlessly blocked it with his gun and then cracked Vince on the side of the head, knocking him to the floor. 

Vince’s vision blurred as struggled to his feet. As he regained his bearings, he stared down the barrel of Isaac’s massive rifle. “Please, don’t! I’ll pay you back for the lunches. I love the company, Mr. Gilroy.” 

Isaac lowered the gun a couple of inches. “You know, Vince, I almost believe you. Almost.”

“It’s the truth, I swear.”

“There’s only one way to find out. Get up.” Isaac motioned with the gun towards the front door.

With his hands held to the sky, Vince walked out of the cabin. Isaac directed him from behind to a thicket of bushes. On the other side, Vince discovered Dave, hog-tied with a rag in his mouth. “Dave! You’re alive!” The sight of his friend warmed Vince’s heart, but only briefly. Isaac still lurked behind him, poised to end both of their lives.

“I want to believe what you told me, Vince. I really do. But you need to prove it.”

“I’ll do anything, Mr. Gilroy.” 

Isaac produced a 9MM Glock from his side holster. He tossed it to Vince while keeping his rifle aimed at him. “You have one bullet. If you want to do what’s best for the company, get rid of some dead weight.” He lifted his chin in Dave’s direction—the dead weight. “I’ve got you covered, so don’t get any clever ideas.”

Vince stared at the pistol, frozen with indecision. The only way to save himself was to kill his best friend.  

“Go ahead, Vince. Do this and I’ll know your word means something. Do this and you’ll be the new President of Administration—six figure salary, company car, and a gym membership to 24 Hour Fitness.” 

Dave grunted with knee-jerk excitement at the golden ticket being offered. It was everything he dreamed of, including the gym membership. But then he looked at his friend, knowing what must be done to get it. He couldn’t believe their friendship was ending like this, but he nodded to Vince to do it. The job offer was too good, and it was a hell of a lot better than both being shot. Dave looked away to make it easier for his friend. 

Vince took a deep breath, stood tall, and took aim. He gritted his teeth. “Nooooooo.” With a speed that rivaled Billy the Kid, he whipped his gun around and fired at Isaac. Click. Empty. He should’ve known. Vince shut his eyes and braced for the shot that would end his life. But it didn’t come. Vince cracked an eye and peeked out. 

Isaac sported a gigantic grin. “I knew it.”

Thoroughly confused, Vince still braced for the shot. “Knew what?”

“I don’t like rats. Or backstabbers. Or corporate climbers. Ambition is great ‘n all, but I want team players in my company.”

“What? This was all to find out if we’re ‘team players’? This is crazy!”

“No. Crazy is doing anything to make a buck. I don’t need that in my company.”

Vince’s world spun again. What was happening? “But you’ve killed people.”  

“Don’t be silly.”

“Billingsley and Austen. I saw them, Mr. Gilroy.”  

Isaac snickered. “Oh, the heads? I had those made as a symbol of people who have failed this test.”

“No, I saw them. They were real.”  

“Vince, I’m a billionaire. If I’m going to pay for fake heads, they’re going to look damn good.”

“And the animals are fake, too?”

“Oh no, I shot those critters good and dead. Still love to hunt.”  

Vince couldn’t believe his ears. “So those people failed the test, got fired, but they didn’t go to the police?”

“Think about it. They were willing to shoot each other for a promotion. That’s a pretty ugly thing to admit. Besides, who would you believe? Some bitter ex-employees or a business mogul and his loyal senior staff who have all spent many weekends hunting together?”  

“So, what now?” Vince asked.

 

After the job interview…

 

Vince and Dave zipped along the countryside in Dave’s car, eager to get back to the safety of the big city. Both sat in stunned silence. What had they just survived? And then a small smile spread across Dave’s face. He turned to his best friend. “I knew we were getting promoted!”