"They were here, but they're gone now." Ryan said over the phone to Mark, who was leaning on the doorframe at his home listing to his partner. "All they left behind were some old Indians that couldn't make it out in time."

"You send out some trackers?" Mark asked. He was in pain so he was taking shallow breaths, which made it harder to talk.

"In every direction," Ryan was still in the bush at the Indian’s camp as the agents and Military Reserves tore the place apart. "You should see this, man. They're living in pit houses covered in mud and grass. Some of them are built right into the trees. No wonder we couldn't see them from the air. Hell, some of the hunters probably just walked right past them and didn't see 'em at all."

"Yeah, no, I wish I was there." Mark said.

"I'll send you some selfies. You take it easy." Ryan said, "We're going to need you in the next few days to rip these guys up."

"Sounds like a plan to me." Mark agreed and hung up the phone, lowering it caused him to wince. He headed for his recliner and noticed Amanda watching him from the kitchen door so he smiled and groaned as he climbed into the chair.

The two of them spent the night in the hospital emergency room waiting on an x-Ray. The good news was there wasn't any internal bleeding but the impact of the round cracked one rib and bruised two others. The swelling was pushing heavy on Mark’s lung. In the end all they could do was pump him full of anti-inflamitories, some morphine and stem cells programmed for bone.

"You need anything?" Amanda asked.

"Nope," It took effort to reply. "Sleep maybe."

"Right," Amanda agreed as she went back into the kitchen.

Mark was lucky, not as lucky as Ryan was. His partner took three rounds point blank in the back but his Kevlar vest had added metal plates to absorb the impact. Mark was hit under the arm where the Kevlar was the thinnest over the Velcro. It kept the bullet out but all the force hit him directly. He was only lucky because another inch up was the end of the vest.

Maybe not lucky, foresight. Only an idiot would go out into the bush with thrill seeking armed men not wearing anything.

That Indian though, this Layla girl told them his name was Kevin. He wasn't thrill seeking, he was out for blood and according to Ryan, was still out there somewhere. He was going to be a major issue if they didn't find him soon, not just because he's willing to kill agents but because he might embolden others to do the same. Mark needed to heal fast and get back on his feet.

"You were quitting." Amanda said bringing him out of his thoughts, she stood off from the chair.

"What?"

"You were quitting. We talked it over and you said you were quitting. That was almost a month ago." He could see she was controlling her emotions.

"I was."

"So why didn't you? Why didn't you just quit? You wouldn't be sitting here struggling to breathe." Amanda sat on the end of the coffee table.

"I thought about it..." Mark said, he took some morphine and it was making him drowsy. "But I don't think I can yet."

"Why not?"

"Can we talk about this later?"

"No! No, we made a choice together and suddenly you're going another way. I want to know why? Cause this, this affects me too."

"Money." Mark breathed for a bit. "I'm not good at anything else and all this, our lives, cost money. So I figure, we put some aside, couple more hunts to invest, to live off of."

"Mark, do we really want a life that's built on the death of others?"

"Hasn't it always been...?" Mark smiled, "The curse of white privilege."

Mark closed his eyes and started snoring. Amanda sighed. She laid her forehead on his hand on the armrest for a moment then went back to the kitchen.

Kevin opened his eyes slowly but had to close them again. His head was one giant ball of pain and the light in the room only made it worse. He tried again and found that he was looking up at a pink ceiling with a blue ceiling fan. The fan moved around slowly, but still made him dizzy.

He brought his hand up to rub his face and noticed there was a cable attached to the back of his wrist. He followed the tube to see it was attached to a bag of blood attached to the pink and a blue wall. He tried to sit up to get a better look but winced in pain from his side, which was now bandaged up professionally. Square bandages held on by medical tape.

Kevin pulled the bandages aside to see that his wound was closed with stitches but still bright red and swollen. He put the bandage back in place and looked at the rest of the room. He was shirtless on a queen sized bed with a comforter down by his feet. The dresser was covered in make-up with a giant mirror in front of it and shelves along the walls were covered in different coloured horses.

Am I in a children's hospital? He wondered to himself and laid back down. Looking around exhausted, he slowly drifted off to sleep.

When Kevin woke up the next time, the room was darker and the blood bag was no longer attached to his arm. It had been removed from the room entirely. He tried to sit up and although lacked any real energy was able to get to the sitting position, holding his side as if the pressure would ease the pain. No shirt, he had pants but he was also bare foot.

Kevin found clothes in the closet but not his. He decided a black t-shirt would have to do and put it on. He moved to the door and tested the knob to find it wasn't locked. He opened it slowly, a few inches to look through.

Carlton spun around to look at him from outside the door. He was a white square robot with two large blue eyes on top of his head. Kevin instantly thought he looked like a robot version of ET from a really old movie he's seen. "Hello, are you in need of assistance?"

"No." Kevin said puzzled.

"I have been asked to inform Jenny when you have awakened. She has been notified." Carlton stated.

"Who's Jenny?" Kevin asked.

"Jenny Davis, owner." Carlton answered, his voice was synthetic and the words felt like they were cut and pasted into the conversation.

"Take me to her."

"This way, please" Carlton said and turned. His hard plastic body sat on four rubber wheels the size of dinner plates but an inch thick. Carlton moved off down the hallway so Kevin opened the door fully and cautiously followed him.

Kevin came out into the large living room and paused when he saw that the far end had a giant window overlooking the city. The sun was going down in the distance and the lights were coming on. Between him and the window was a couch, a coffee table and giant high-end entertainment center. The place was huge, with wood floors, and electric panels with buttons on the wall.

Austin stood by the couch just in front of Jenny, a lady in her mid twenties, dressed in kaki pants and a sweater. Kevin tried to read her. She had a straight, long bob cut and thick glasses. She was clearly nervous about Kevin coming out. Separately their whole look screamed nerds. Together it was almost too much.

The room was quiet for a moment.

"Hi." Jenny started.

"Where am I?"

"Well, you're downtown Vancouver, on the fifteenth floor of our apartment building." Austin said.

"What am I doing here?"

"I...I really didn't know where else to take you." Austin answered.

"That doesn't answer my question."

"Well, let me ask you this first please," Jenny said, "We helped you, we didn't want to get you in trouble, so that's who we are but what we need to know is, are you going to hurt us, or kill us or anything bad? ‘Cause other people know you're here, and Carlton is programmed to call the police. I know it's a rude question, but it would go a really long way in setting our minds at ease if you could answer that first."

Kevin stared at her. "Do you work for the government?"

"No."

"Then you're safe."

"Uh...I do." Austin said weakly.

"But with Revenue Canada. He's an auditor and nothing to do with Indians." Jenny added quickly.

"Yes, but I feel I should be honest with you and say I am, so you don't feel betrayed or blindsided later by that." Austin offered up.

"’K." Kevin moved to a stool at the kitchen island and sat on his one cheek, using the island to hold himself up. "Why am I here?"

"Well," Jenny said as she moved toward the Island, "Um, so last night Austin phones me up in a panic..."

"I wasn't panicking."

"He was panicking. He says that he's been car jacked but the car jacker passed out. And I told him that he should be calling the police, but he says that he thinks you're Indian and you've been shot." Jenny put her hand on the island.

"Are you?" Austin asked.

"I was shot."

"No, are you Indian?" Jenny asked, "I know Mexicans, and I have a few Asian friends. You could pass for them in the right light, but you're Indian, aren't you?"

Kevin waited as he stared back, more in awe that they would have to ask. He nodded.

"Ok..." Austin smiled, "That's something you don't see every day."

"So, we brought you here and I called my friend Leila, she's a doctor, gynecologist actually but she came over and sewed you up, gave you two bags of blood...synthetic blood ‘cause we didn't know what blood type." Jenny stopped when she saw that Kevin was thinking.

"Where's she now?"

"You can trust her. I've known her since high school. She's a good person, she is." Austin stated so Kevin looked at him. He followed it nervously with "She dated my dad."

"I don't know you."

"Austin. She's Jenny."

"Not what I mean..." Kevin shook his head, not worth it as he was getting tired. "I need something to eat."

"Uh, that," Jenny stood up straight. "Leila says we can't give you real food until you pass gas. ‘Cause you know, so you know everything's working and the bullet didn't...awkward question, have you?"

"Yes." Kevin said, again after giving Jenny a disbelieving look.

"Did you or are you saying that to get something to eat?" Jenny asked. Kevin stared at her. "Ok, I'm going to cook you something soft like soup and maybe some jell-o for later."

Austin sat down in the living room as he went back to his tablet computer while Kevin ate his soup at the island under the supervision of Jenny. Kevin thought she talked too much but knew most of it was nervous chatter and most of it was about the security of the building they were in. She talked about how difficult it was to get an unconscious Indian up to their apartment. She talked about her job at the local clothing outlet. It was high end and gave her a lot of free time to read, which was her passion. She had a Masters degree in English Literature and was working on her Doctorate.

"Do you read?"

Kevin finished the soup and pushed the bowl away from himself. "No."

"Oh." She seemed disappointed, as if they had less in common. "On the reserve, do they teach you to read?"

Kevin smirked, "We can read." There were no schools, as they weren't allowed to gather but like Kevin most of the natives in the bush were taught to read by their elders who wrote in the dirt. Paper and pens were pretty limited.

"I'm sorry, was that offensive?" Jenny winced at the thought. "Honestly, we don't really know what's going on there. Just rumors and conspiracy theories. The Internet is full of them."

"No, it's fine." Kevin said, his stomach was warming from the soup and he felt better; but still lightheaded. He wondered if it would be rude to ask for another bag of blood.

"Okay."

"I need to lay down." Kevin stood up and felt the wave of dizziness come over him.

"Yes, sure. That room is yours for now. Carlton will go with you, and if you need anything just tell him and he'll buzz me, or us." Jenny said.

Kevin nodded and started down the hallway as Carlton followed him. He stopped and turned back to see Austin had joined Jenny at the counter. "I'm in a lot of trouble."

"We know." Austin replied.

"Why are you helping me?"

The two didn't say anything for a moment, not sure how to explain it but then Jenny spoke up. "What kind of people would we be if we didn't?"

Kevin nodded and went back to the room, this time he held the door open for Carlton to come inside. Kevin moved to the bed and slowly climbed on. He had to stop every major turn to see if the muscles cramped, before he laid on his back.

As a rule he didn't trust white people. Growing up in the world that he did, the only ones he knew personally were armed and always trying to kill him. It had only been in the last few months that he's met any that seemed kind. The pharmacist was the first actually. Yet here were two more helping an Indian, even after he tried to car jack him but Kevin couldn't shake the feeling there was always some sort of ulterior motive.

"Are you looking to sleep?"

"Yes."

"Understood." Carlton said and the room went completely dark except for the blue glow from the robots eyes. "Would you like to hear some music?"

Kevin smiled, "What kind of music?"

"I have access to satellite radio, made to order radio as well as Jenny's playlists." Carlton waited.

"You have anything..." Kevin wanted to say Indian but knew people off the reserve used different name for formality. "You have anything First Nations?"

Carlton processed the request. "Do you like a particular artist?"

"Buffy Saint-Marie," Kevin said. He heard of her through his aunts and uncles who would sing her songs late at night. They would also talk about her concerts but he had personally never actually heard her sing. He listened to Carlton whir a bit.

"I apologize, Buffy Saint-Marie is listed as prohibited and I do not have access to it." Carlton said, "May I suggest easy listening."

"Sure." Kevin replied disappointed. Carlton made a clicking sound and started playing easy listening music. Kevin began to drift off as he continued to contemplate trusting white people. His last thoughts were of the hunters he encountered over the years.