He wasn’t supposed to be there. But that was the point.
Elliot smiled. He wasn't game anymore. He was the hunter. And the truck was his blind, his escape, his rolling declaration that some seasons aren't for hiding—they're for leaving. open season elliot on truck
He tapped the rear window. Maris glanced in the mirror, nodded once, and pushed the accelerator. The engine growled. He wasn’t supposed to be there
A sign flashed past: OPEN SEASON – ALL GAME HUNTING PERMITTED OCT 1 – JAN 31. open season elliot on truck