While most people his age were in school or at their jobs, Jeremy Bower was busy running through the Cascade Range of Washington State. He had shaken his pursuers by taking a "detour" at Mount St. Helens, or at least his normal pursuers. He was well aware of the Navy dogs on his tail as well. Friends of his ex-girlfriend's father no doubt.
"Damn sailors," he grumbled, climbing up the slope of a mountain. He hadn't traveled across the country to be chased like prey. He was the hunter, he was supposed to be tracking down Spencer. He didn't really blame her for what happened, more her overbearing father. He didn't do anything wrong (if you don't think breaking and entering, and larceny are wrong).
He'd been arraigned on charges of trespassing, damaging private property, assaulting a police officer, a general assault charge, resisting arrest, violating a restraining order, and to top the list, attempted murder. Bower had repeatedly told the judge he wasn't trying to kill, or even threaten, the officer who came to question him. But to everyone else present, sticking an electric bug-zapper in someone's face and telling them that if they didn't leave their family line would end with them was indeed threatening. And then zapping the other party repeatedly in the chest with a 500 volts was attempted murder.
"Any sign of him?" One of the Navy men tracking Bower shouted in the distance. Bower had covered his scent with mud and other debris from the forest. It was a technique they foolishly taught at the military academy. They basically gave step by step instructions to teenagers on how to disappear. Jeremy never thought much of it, since he didn't have any reason to disappear before he started seeing Spencer. His parents were more interested in each other than him, and he was already eighteen. He was free to do what he wanted, when he wanted. In theory at least.
"No sir. Should we retreat for now?" Another man said.
"Got no choice. We've got other things to do. But make sure the rangers know Bower might be hiding in the area. I don't want him slipping away, or worse getting caught by the feds." the first man said gruffly.
"Why sir?"
"Bower's a bastard, that says it all. He won't come quietly. And the only way the feds will stop him from tearing them limb from limb is if they put a bullet through his head. It'll be easier if we find him."
Which did have some truth to it. If the much weaker, and normal FBI agents managed to catch up with Jeremy, they were at greater risk for injury. Not to mention exposure. On the other hand, if Evan's Naval buddies found him, Jeremy was pretty sure he would be torn limb from limb.
Once the Navy officers had gone, Jeremy crawled out from his hiding space. He'd dug a small hole and covered himself with as much dirt as possible to keep them from catching his scent. Which in his fursona was much more potent than when he was in his normal form. He could have shifted back, but something about lying motionless, naked in the ground was very disturbing to him. And it was much easier to shake the dirt from his fur than to wipe if from his skin.
Bower flicked dirt from under his claws, and took one last look at the mountain side. It had served its purpose, acting as a safe haven for him these past few weeks. There were plenty of places of hide, and more than enough to eat. Even though he wasn't as stealthy as Spencer might be, he was still able to sneak into a few campsites and steal what he needed. Game was scarce since it was fall. Most animals had either left, or made themselves invisible.
Jeremy, on all fours since it was faster this way, ran down the slope and back to the small strip of road he had been following before he caught sight of those sailors. He made sure to stay hidden among the trees, as the sight of a nine foot tall Rottweiler would probably scare the living **** out of most normals. The alternative was for Jeremy to go naked, but A) he would freeze to death, B) it was faster on four limbs than two, and C) he'd rather someone see him in his were form than naked any day.
As he ran alongside the road, the only thing he could think about, the only thing he had been thinking about for the past month or so, was Spencer. Did they really think that moving across the country was going to stop Jeremy from finding her? They were sorely mistaken. Around his neck, kept in a pouch, was a small square of fabric Jeremy had cut from Spencer's sheets. It had the strongest scent on it, seeing as Spencer did everything from sleep, sweat, to having sex on top of it. Jeremy took a deep breath in, and inhaled the smell. It drove him wild, and fueled his desire to find her.
A man possessed, he didn't even notice the car passing him. It briefly slowed, as the driver wasn't sure what they saw. But they assumed it to be a bear or moose and kept going. Far from it, they would have most likely crashed the car if they'd seen Jeremy in his fursona, sporting a very noticeable hard-on.