Hunter's Choice, page 11
CHAPTER 15
THE WOLF’S HARD MUSCLE WAS CLEARLY VISIBLE EVEN under all his fur. If he stood erect he would be as big as a man. His head was larger than Hunter’s, with huge jaws that instantly conveyed power. The beast could probably bite clean through someone’s whole neck, gnawing a person’s head off. His paws were as large as Hunter’s fists, with sharp black claws visible even from thirty yards away.
Hunter had never seen a wolf in real life. He’d seen photos and videos of them online. They were featured on the local news. People around McCall talked about them. But this wasn’t some far-off news story or one of their hunting videos. This was real, right there, right now. The creature was hungry.
The wolf glared at them with one golden eye. His left eye and ear were gone, replaced by a nasty jagged scar that left his lip permanently curled into a fearsome snarl.
“Everybody stay still,” Uncle Rick said quietly.
He needn’t have said so. All four of them froze instinctively, an action born of some old memory of someone’s angry pet dog. But this was no dog. The wolf wanted that deer, and Hunter figured he didn’t care who he had to hurt to get it.
Uncle Rick looked at his rifle, next to Yumi’s, leaning against the fallen tree trunk, twenty yards away. “I’m gonna go for my weapon. As soon as I move, you kids run, fast as you can, back toward the lodge. Don’t stop for anything.”
“Dad. No way.” Yumi’s voice was shaky. “We’re not leaving you.”
“Don’t argue with me.” Uncle Rick was like a different person. Efficient. Cold. The wolf, hearing Uncle Rick’s tone, growled again. Uncle Rick looked at Yumi, Annette, and Hunter in turn. “You do what I say. When I say go, you run fast as you can. Hopefully the wolf will go for the deer first. I’ll get to my gun.”
“You’re hurt,” Yumi said. “You’ll be too slow. You’ll never make it.”
“Yumi, don’t argue with—”
The wolf lunged. He flew forward a full body length. His legs touched down and shoved him forward even faster. For such a big creature, he moved, he raced, he flew forward with blur-fast speed. Teeth bared, rage in his eye. Annette screamed. Uncle Rick cursed.
Hunter sprinted forward, slammed-cranked his rifle’s bolt action. He raised his weapon as he halted, squared up his feet, and fired.
The wolf yelped as blood burst from his chest above his leg. He howled. He roared. But after only a minor stumble he kept rushing forward, ten yards from the deer, Uncle Rick, and Yumi. Hunter cranked his rifle’s bolt handle up, backward, forward, down—and shot again.
The wolf’s eye went wide. He let loose a loud long screech of a yelp. He dropped to the ground, his great head skidding along for a foot on a bed of pine needles.
Hunter didn’t wait a moment, but ejected his spent casing and chambered another round. He kept his rifle stock to his cheek. If the wolf made another move, Hunter would shoot him in the head. He wouldn’t miss from this range.
Only then, with a moment to think about what had happened in the last few seconds, did Hunter realize what he had done. One moment the deadly animal had been about to attack his family. The next it was down.
Hunter hadn’t thought about the beauty of the wolf, hadn’t considered for a second whether or not he was capable of killing him. Killing the wolf wasn’t even his goal. Not really. All he’d cared about was protecting his family and Annette. Killing the wolf was only a means toward that end.
The wolf met his gaze, and Hunter understood the beast. He felt the sort of connection with his prey that his father had described back at the lodge. The wolf groaned, blood spilling on the ground before him.
Hunter had watched too many movies where the bad guy or the monster, thought dead, suddenly sprang up, out of desperation or revenge, for one last surprise attack. He would not let his guard down now. He kept his rifle aimed at the wolf, slowly moving closer, the better to score a final lethal shot if he needed to do so.
But eventually Hunter knew it wouldn’t come to that. The fight had gone out of the animal. The wolf watched him approach. He had stopped growling, stopped snarling now. He labored to draw raspy breaths.
Hunter looked the wolf in his eye. The wolf wasn’t evil. He didn’t hate them. He didn’t hate Hunter even as his death approached. The wolf was hungry. He was part of nature. And survival in nature, survival anywhere, depended on feeding.
There was a sharp beauty in the wolf’s lethal ferocity. Hunter knew that, even as he’d been forced to end it. “I’m sorry,” he said quietly to the wolf. “I had no choice.”
The wolf huffed, watching him. Then he shook, legs jerking, and, lifting his head, he opened his jaws, showing his lethal teeth and letting loose one final, bone-chilling howl.
The wolf breathed his last, and lay dead at Hunter’s feet.
For a long, long moment, all four of them watched the dead animal where it rested. Nobody spoke. Nobody moved.
As Hunter’s pounding heart and fast breathing began to calm, he wondered, even with the evidence right there in front of him, if he had truly killed the wolf. He felt as he sometimes did in the first few minutes after waking from a dream, not quite sure where he was or what had really just happened.
“Well,” Annette said. Her voice made Hunter jump, and he took that opportunity to finally lower his rifle and click its safety back on so that he didn’t accidentally shoot someone. Annette approached and gently patted his shoulder. “Looks like you are a hunter after all.”
That broke the spell of silence.
Yumi burst out, “Higgins, you just shot a wolf!”
Uncle Rick sat down and leaned back, his blood-soaked hands on the ground behind him. He looked up and blew out a long breath. The wolf had fallen about five yards from him. “I haven’t had a close call like that since Afghanistan.”
Yumi fell to her knees beside her father and put her arms around him, leaning her head on his shoulder. Slowly, still quite stunned, Uncle Rick sat up and put his arm around his daughter.
“Hey, Uncle Rick,” Hunter said.
It took his uncle a moment to respond. “Yeah, buddy?”
“I don’t have a license or tags to hunt wolf. Am I in trouble?”
Uncle Rick laughed, and then they all laughed, as if the dam had just broken on their stunned tension.
“Do you mean in more trouble than being attacked by a huge wolf?” Yumi asked.
“Hey!” Hunter smiled. “There are laws. Poaching is a serious crime.”
“Hunter,” said Uncle Rick, “you have every right to self-defense. We’ll have to explain what happened to the game warden, but he’ll understand. No hunter is required to let an animal attack him or his family just because the animal’s out of season or he has no permit.”
Hunter frowned. “But how will they know that the wolf—”
“Because I have the most amazing video of the whole thing.”
Annette held up her phone, the image of the wolf paused in the video on-screen. “Started filming the field dressing of the deer and was still recording when the wolf showed up. I have video of the whole event. That should be enough proof it was self defense, right?”
Uncle Rick nodded. “More than enough. And I have never been so glad about anyone having a phone out here.”
“So, Uncle Rick, do you think we could take this wolf to the taxidermist too?” Hunter said. “I think he’d make a pretty good trophy.”
CHAPTER 16
“HUNTER!” DAD’S VOICE ECHOED FROM THE DARK WOODS.
“Rick?” Grandpa called a moment later.
“Over here!” Yumi shouted.
“We heard the howl,” Dad said. “Heard the shots. Is there a wolf out here? Did you see—” He spotted the wolf carcass on the ground. “Oh wow!”
“Hunter’s not afraid of the big bad wolf,” Annette said.
Grandpa looked, open-mouthed, at the wolf. “You, Hunter?”
“It was attacking. Higgins totally saved us.” Yumi told Grandpa and Dad the whole story, from her shooting the deer, to Hunter and Annette tracking it, to the wolf’s deadly charge and Hunter’s two shots.
“Sorry,” Hunter said, remembering what he’d always been taught about hunting. “I didn’t check to make sure I had a clear shot and everything. I guess I didn’t think.”
“No, you just saved everyone’s lives,” Grandpa said. “You seized the moment when it really counted. Great job, Hunter.”
Dad wrapped Hunter up in a firm one-armed side hug. “I knew you were a hunter, son. I just had no idea you’d be this great.”
“Two great new hunters in the family!” Grandpa boomed. “Let’s get these animals back to the lodge so we can celebrate a successful first hunt!”
With everybody all together, they might have been able to carry the buck out all at once, but since they wanted the wolf intact, to stuff the whole thing, like Reagan the bear, they would have to make more than one trip. They had to quarter the deer, dividing it into five parts, four parts to be broken down for food, plus his head. The parts they could not carry on the first trip, they would hang from trees by the ropes they carried, so that no more hungry wolves or other animals could steal their prize. Dad and Grandpa gutted and drained the wolf, not for the sake of its meat, but to make it lighter for the two of them to carry back to the lodge. Yumi managed one quarter of the deer, Hunter another, and Annette a third. Uncle Rick’s ankle was feeling a little better, but still bothered him, so that he would come back for the last part of the deer when his ankle could better handle the load.
On such a long walk, through what was basically full-on darkness, carrying his rifle and his part of the deer became quite a challenge, though Hunter suspected it was nothing compared to what Grandpa and Dad were suffering lugging that wolf through the woods. It didn’t take long before the happy chatter they’d enjoyed when they first set out fell to silence and the occasional laborious grunt.
Grandpa eventually managed to find cell service on the walk and called the game warden, who was waiting at the lodge when everyone returned.
Hunter was nervous when he saw the man’s shiny badge and his gun, but his first question was, “Is anyone hurt? Does anyone require medical attention?”
Uncle Rick laughed. “I’m hurt, but not because of the wolf.” He explained about his ankle.
“Lone wolf, huh? Rare, but it happens.” The officer focused on Hunter. “You shot this wolf in self-defense?”
Hunter explained the incident, and Annette showed the video. It was the first time Hunter had seen it. Although in his head he knew it had happened, in his heart it still felt fake, like he was watching someone else.
“Wow, son,” said the officer. “You look like some kind of action hero, rushing in there to save everybody like that. Great shooting.”
“My cousin’s the best shooter in the county!” Yumi said.
The officer hooked his fingers in his equipment belt and laughed a little. “That so? That’s really saying something, there, miss. This is Idaho, after all. Got a lot of fine shooters here. The state is even shaped like a gun!”
The men all laughed. Hunter forced himself to appear amused as well, though he was still worried about being in trouble for killing the wolf.
“Well, even without the video, all of these witnesses are proof enough that this was self-defense. I have a few forms for you to fill out, just so I have an official statement for the record. You can mail it in. Meantime, I’m just happy everybody’s OK.”
The officer handed Dad the paperwork, swung up into his pickup, and drove away.
After that, it was time to go back to retrieve the last of the deer. Annette asked why they didn’t just leave it for crows. Didn’t they have enough? Grandpa explained that they never wasted the animals they took.
Uncle Rick offered to go with Hunter to get the last of the meat. Grandpa and Dad tried to argue, but he insisted he was feeling better, with just a bit of a limp left. There was an awkward moment as the three men exchanged a meaningful look, before everyone agreed.
No longer worried about scaring off animals they were trying to hunt, Uncle Rick and Hunter were equipped with bright LED headlamps and 3200-lumen LED flashlights. They also carried their rifles. Hunting was illegal at night, and a passing Idaho Fish and Game officer might ask questions, but after the wolf, neither of them were going out into the night unarmed.
“You’re walking a lot better,” Hunter said after a long silence. They’d been moving slowly to accommodate for Uncle Rick’s remaining limp.
“It doesn’t hurt so bad now.”
They continued on the path back to where they’d hung up the last of the deer, navigating by following footprints, blood, and landmarks they remembered.
“I always thought that the trip back out to retrieve the meat we couldn’t at first carry is the longest trip of them all. It feels like the remains of the deer move farther away when we’re not paying attention.”
“Like a zombie?” Hunter asked.
Uncle Rick chuckled. “Yeah, I guess. I wish there was a better way to bring the animals in.”
“Do you always do it this way?” Hunter asked.
“No. Sometimes the terrain is even and clear enough for someone to drive out with the four-wheeler, and we can load the entire deer to take it back in one trip. Sometimes the deer is small enough for a couple men to carry at once. But whenever it’s big enough that we have to quarter the animal, it just takes forever. I’ve hunted alone. Brought down a huge moose once way out there. I had to take separate trips for each of the four big pieces. I must have walked about thirty miles that day. Was tired after that. Bone-tired. Army-tired.”
A while later, they reached the site where Uncle Rick had dressed the deer. Three coyotes were digging into the entrails, blood soaking their faces and paws. They were interested in the quarter carcass the family had hung from the tree.
“Go on! Get out of here!” Uncle Rick shouted. The coyotes scattered. “Worthless things.” Uncle Rick untied the rope, taking hold of the last part of the buck. “All right. Final trip of the night.”
“You sure you got it?” Hunter had to ask. Uncle Rick was still hurting.
“Yeah. No problem.”
They walked back through the cold dark in silence. Once a raccoon scurried away from the light. They heard other movements in the dark woods around them. Hunter tried not to think about the possibility of more wolves, or a cougar, out here. The Idaho wilderness was real, not always safe, and it was not for the timid or fearful. It required a certain amount of courage. He understood that now.
“Hunter, you saved my life. More importantly, you saved my daughter’s life.” Most of the time when Uncle Rick talked to him, there was a playfulness, a kind of jokey tone in his voice. He usually sounded the same as he did when he said stuff like, “Hey buddy! What’s the sitrep?” or “How’s my favorite nephew rocking the sixth grade?” But tonight as they walked, all the jokes and humor were washed away. The man sounded even more serious, somehow, than he had when the two of them had talked about killing and war.
“I’ve been around the world. I’ve been through the desert with guns, stopping highway robbers and other bad guys, riding into town to try to help the good people. A lot of it was horrible, and I wanted to come home the whole time. But it was also an adventure. Still, nothing compared to the adventure of growing up.”
Hunter looked warily at his uncle for a moment. Was this going to be one of those I-miss-the-good-old-days speeches his father had started giving him lately?
Uncle Rick must have sensed his wariness, because he laughed and held up his free hand. “Just hang in there and listen a minute. Try not to shrug off everything I’m saying just because I’m old.”
“You’re not old.”
“Because I’m starting to get old. OK? You’re twelve. There will be so many more friends, so many fun times with them. Sports. Parties. Dates.”
“Oh no, is this, like, The Talk?” Hunter joked.
“No!” Uncle Rick’s shout echoed through the woods. A coyote howled somewhere. “That’s absolutely in no way my job!” His fun tone was back. “And there will be a bunch more outdoor fun, more hunting and fishing and hiking for you. And because of you, all those things lie ahead for my daughter too.” His voice shook a little as he said the last part. “There were men in the war with me to whom I owe my life, and they’re like brothers to me, and I’ll always be grateful to them. But, Hunter . . . none of them saved my Yumi. Do you get what I’m trying to say?”
“You don’t have to thank me or anything. I killed that wolf as much to save myself. Not even that. I didn’t even—”
“Didn’t even think about it?”
Hunter was confused for a moment. But of course Uncle Rick knew just what he was talking about. “Yeah. I barely remember it. I certainly didn’t think anything like, Oh no. I have to save my family.”
“Exactly.” Uncle Rick stopped walking and turned to face Hunter, looking at him with tears in his eyes. “So it’s pretty tough when people call you a hero, huh?”
They were silent for a while. Finally they both nodded and kept walking.
“What I’m about to tell you is hard to explain. I have a brother, your dad. But the guys with whom I served in that war are my brother brothers. You get me? I mean, I love your dad. Of course. But there’s a different connection with someone who’s saved your life, and especially with someone who’s saved the life of your kid. Which you won’t entirely understand for many years because you’re not a father.”
“I don’t know what to say,” Hunter confessed.
“Oh, that’s OK!” Uncle Rick laughed. “I said this bond is hard to explain, and I think that’s one of the many reasons why none of us ever really talks about it. I just want to say, this once, thank you for saving us. And I think, without us saying much more about it, you and I have an understanding and connection now.”
“And Yumi and Annette?” He’d spoken without thinking and almost immediately wished he hadn’t.
