Casey’s mom looked into his room. “Guess your dad has had some road trouble. Dinner will be late, love.”
“I’m good,” said Casey, not even turning her way. Instead he sat in front of his computer, the Bowhunter game bright on the screen. As before, it showed a jungle scene whose lush colors reminded Casey of an animated movie about summer. Thinking of the snow outside, he had to smile. No jungle here.
At the bottom of the screen, the arrow shaft and arrowhead pointed toward the jungle. Casey shifted his mouse so that the arrow aimed now this way, then that.
He clicked the W button on his keyboard. The jungle began to move, as if he, Casey, were walking deeper and deeper into it. He kept his hand hovering over the mouse, waiting for an animal to appear.
A wolf sprang into view.
Casey clicked his mouse. The arrow shot forward, unspooling its red course like a bloody ribbon. The wolf made a sudden turn, avoiding the arrow, and bounded off.
Bad shot! said the automated voice. Try again. Be alert! Aim better!
Determined to improve, Casey stared at the screen, flexing the fingers of his right hand over the mouse. The jungle rolled toward him.
The way the game worked, an animal who escaped being killed always came back. During every half hour of play all the animals he killed returned. He was waiting for the wolf to come back.
In the Bowhunter game there was no death, just kills.