AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“If only.” He desperately wanted that for Sam. And for him, but Sam’s safety was paramount. The organization should have been shut down years ago, but money talked.
Sam picked up a paper cup. “It’s been five minutes, so these should be ready, right?”
“Yeah, sorry.” He picked up the other container. “Lost in my thoughts.”
“Easy to do in all this peace and quiet.” She peeled the lid all the way off. Steam curled into the air, and the spicy scent of curry overwhelmed the forest’s pinesap, tinged with smoke and decay.
Trevor handed her a spoon and removed his lid. Earthy and sweet; a lentil stew. They ate quickly and brushed their teeth while the sun’s rays faded into orange haze. He handed Sam the toilet kit and a light. “You go first. I’ll change while you’re gone. Then you can change. Yell when you’re in your bag.”
“Sure.” She took the kit and walked away.
He had no right to be disappointed by her lack of objections or enthusiasm, but he was anyway. He changed into sweats and placed a light near the tent’s entrance, with bear spray at his head.
Sam returned, handing the kit and light to him. “It’s dark in there.”
Trevor chuckled. “It’s dark out here, too. You can turn on the light in the tent if you want, but if you hear a vehicle, turn it off, please. Also, there will probably be frost tonight, so I’ll leave the fly on, but I want to leave the doors rolled back so we can see out.”
“Got it.” She crouched and unzipped the tent, then it glowed green.
He left, did his nightly routine, turned off his light, and wandered along the road. The tent put out enough light to walk. Gravel crunched under his feet, seeming loud in the stillness of the coming night.
Sam said, “Come in.”
Carefully avoiding Sam’s side of the tent, he kneeled, opened his bag, turned and sat, then removed his right shoe, placing it where he could easily grab it in the dark. He flopped back, keeping his lower left leg out of the bag. The prosthetic would get cold, but with the warm cover, the transferred chill shouldn’t bother him. He doubted anyone would find them, but better safe than sorry. If he’d been truly concerned, he’d have left both shoes on, but with temperatures in the high twenties, warm toes were more important than speed. He turned his head. All he saw was sleeping bag; Sam must be on her side, facing away, the bag’s hood over her head. “Need the light? Are you warm enough?”
“You can turn off the light. I’ll warm up soon. Good night.”
He was sorely tempted to roll over and pull her tight, warming her from the outside, but that wouldn’t be wise. He was already on shaky ground; even separated by layers of down, she’d be too tempting. He concentrated on his breathing; even if he couldn’t sleep, meditation would help him the next day.
Trevor woke, blinking in the darkness, and listened. A snap, a crunch, and a huffing noise, like someone out of breath. Slowly, he sat up, letting the sleeping bag fall away, the nylon cover swishing. He slid his right foot from the bag and into his waiting shoe, not worrying about tying it, then grasped his weapon. With his left hand, he picked up his headlamp, turning it to face out the door, and clicked the button.
Eyes glowed silver-white and steam curled from snorting nostrils. The huge buck elk lowered its head, sweeping the tines of his long, sharp antlers back and forth, and pawed at the earth. If that thing charged, they’d be skewered. Clattering beyond the menacing bull signaled his harem’s nervousness. If the big guy charged, they’d probably get trampled by the entire herd.
Moving slowly, every muscle tight, Trevor put his pistol down and slid his headlamp on his forehead. He nudged Sam. “Sam, wake up. Move slowly. Stay quiet.” He unzipped his side of the tent because the mesh was useless against an elk but difficult for them to get through. He picked up the bear spray and the pistol. Male elk were always dangerous, but it was mating season, and attack was their default. At least it wasn’t a moose.
“Huh?” Cloth rustled. “Oh!”
“Slow, Sam. Let’s not startle him more. Get the car keys, then put your shoes on. Unzip your door. You’ll click the unlock button, then we’ll go out your side of the tent and get in the car. If you can’t make the car, run behind trees or bushes.” Elk didn’t see very clearly; they reacted to movement and scent.
“Yeah.” Terror and wonder warred in her voice. “Right.”
Trevor aimed the bear spray at the magnificent bull elk. Clods of earth flew from his hooves, his snorting and bellowing strong enough to dampen Trevor’s face. The herd had shuffled away, stopping just beyond his light, dancing hooves shining in the glow. “Tell me when you’re ready, and repeat back what you’re going to do.”
Metal tinkled, cloth rustled, and a zipper snicked; Sam followed his directions. “I’m ready. We’ll both go for the passenger side of the car. I’ll dive into the driver’s seat. I’ll click the lock on three. Ready?”
Trevor rolled into a crouch, bear spray in his left hand, pistol in his right. He didn’t want to use either weapon, but he would. His heart pounded and his mouth dried. The car was maybe five feet from the tent, but it seemed like miles. The bull’s three-foot-high rack tossed menacingly, closer and closer to his face. “Ready when you are.” He hoped it was true.
“Three, two, go!” Yellow lights flashed. Sam exploded into action and the elk’s head swung toward her. “Hey, bull!” Trevor spun on his right toe, scrambling to stay upright on the slippery sleeping bags and his fake foot. He put his hands down, pain shooting from his fingers, crushed between the gun, bear spray and the ground. Launching from the tent, his prosthetic foot slipped, and he almost fell. A thud, metal ripping, and a bellow tried to distract him, but he focused on the open car door. Diving in, he slammed it shut. “Honk!” His heart thudded hard enough to come through his chest.
Sam mashed the horn. She sat upright, let off the horn, shoved the keys into place, and started the car, revving the engine. The lights flashed on, highlighting glowing eyes, flashing hooves, and steam rolling from blowing nostrils. “We’re hemmed in!”
“Roll forward super slow and honk again.” Trevor dropped the bear spray on his lap but held the weapon tight. If the big guy came through a window, he’d have to shoot.
“Right.” Skepticism slowing her speech, she blared the horn, and the car rocked with a mighty thud from the rear. “It’s hitting the back of the car!”
“Keep going. We’ll get through the herd, then come back if they clear out.” His heart pounded in his chest. Sam rolled forward, the elk prancing around them, the bull rocking them again with a thud. Slowly, the herd split and flowed together again behind them. In his mirror, the big bull charged their tent. The green nylon rose in the air, the bottom sagging. The elk reared and struck with his front hooves, shredding the material. Ragged strips of green, beige, and gray nylon hung from the poles caught in the massive rack. As the elk continued striking and shaking his head, feathers flew, and eventually, the mass of destroyed tent and bags dropped away.
The bull bugled his triumph, then trotted into the darkness, nylon streamers decorating his primary weapon. His harem followed, smaller bulls behind them, trying to cut out individual cows in the chaos.
