Fangs

by Vella Munn

  “I didn’t consider—what are you saying?”

  “Maybe the grays are stalking whoever’s after them. Maybe what we heard was a warning shot to try to scare them off.”

  “Shit.”

  * * * *

  Clark took hold of the bull’s antlers and tried to lift the head. “How are you planning on getting it out of here?” he asked Grover, who still looked as if he couldn’t believe what he’d done.

  “I’ve got my knife.” Grover patted the sheath at his side. “Ram, you have yours. We’ll gut and skin it, quarter it.” He ran unsteady fingers through his salt and pepper hair. “I couldn’t let it go. None of you would if you’d had the chance. Instinct. That’s what it was.”

  Ram didn’t remember ever being this angry. Charging past anger, waving goodbye to fury and closing in on rage. He didn’t trust himself to touch his own knife. If he did, Grover might count the rest of his lifespan in seconds.

  This was his spot, his secret. Any animals that came here belonged to him. He might bring them down or he might let them live. The point was, this pristine place spoke to him. Fulfilled him.

  Grover had killed something he had no right to.

  Lyle touched his arm. “What is it? You aren’t looking so good.”

  Not so sane was more like it. Lyle’s touch was helping him back away from rage, but so was Zero’s low growl. She didn’t like anything about what was happening and needed reassurance that order would be restored.

  Unfortunately, it wasn’t going to come from him. He had nothing for her and barely enough to keep himself in check.

  “You’re a damned fool,” he told Grover, who hadn’t acknowledged him since shooting the bull. “You just poached—”

  “So have you,” Grover snapped. “Don’t try to tell me you haven’t.”

  “Damn it, that’s not what we’re here for. I’m not helping you, no way. You’re on your own.”

  Grover’s features sagged. Ram figured the consequences of his actions were finally sinking in. He’d dealt with enough dumb clients that he should be used to anything, but this was different. Seriously different.

  “Think about it, you damned fool,” he continued. “Even if the others are willing to be your pack mules, which I wouldn’t count on, you’ll never get to the Jeep before dark. Think about how long it took us to get here. You’ll have to leave most of the meat behind.” He paused for effect. “Meat that the dogs, if they’re around, would be all too happy to take off your hands. Hell, they’re probably smelling the blood.”

  Saying the word ‘dogs’ did something to Ram. Much as he’d wanted to kill them, the plan had been vague, unreal, a reckless pipe dream. Understanding the wilderness the way he did, he knew how remote the chance was that they’d find them. He and the others would do the best they could, maybe assure themselves and Kendall that the mutts had left the area.

  They hadn’t taken off. He felt their presence all the way to his heart.

  “Forget the meat,” Grover said to no one in particular. He stared at the downed bull as if it was Christmas morning. “I’ll take pictures. I have my cell phone. But the rack. That’s all I want.”

  Grover was babbling, his voice thin and eyes huge. Ram had seen his share of hunters with that look. Macho man beating his chest. Ram pictured Grover trying to haul the bull’s head down the mountain.

  “I don’t like this,” Ram admitted. “We’re vulnerable.”

  “Yes, we are,” Clark said.

  Lyle scanned their surroundings.

  This high altitude place in the middle of nowhere didn’t embrace him after all, Ram acknowledged. Despite his love for it, it knew what he was, an outsider. He would always be.

  “I don’t know what to do.” If he’d ever admitted that, he didn’t remember.

  “About what?” Grover demanded.

  Although he didn’t know what, if anything, he was going to say, Ram opened his mouth. To his left, something moved. Shadows upon shadows made being sure what it was impossible, but his hunter senses seldom lied.

  Danger.

  Zero barked, the cry sharp and scared. Ram held his rifle in hands that threatened to cramp. I don’t know what to do, he silently repeated.

  Then the dogs were there, five silent beasts wrestling themselves free of the vegetation and charging as one, surrounding Grover, clamping down on the bellowing man’s arms and legs, dragging him away yard by yard.

  Ram saw everything, saw too much. The predators tore Grover’s rifle from his grasp by mashing his fingers. They left the weapon behind as they worked in beautiful and deadly unity hauling him into the wilderness. In chilling contrast to his attackers’ lack of sound, Grover’s screaming howl was nearly as loud at the rifle shot had been. The man begged and cried. Made sounds that couldn’t come from a human throat.

  The forest swallowed Grover and his attackers as Ram tried to comprehend. He should fire at the beasts, but if he moved, they might turn on him—would attack—so he sacrificed the helpless man.

  “Stop them!” Clark screamed. “Oh god, stop—” He fired.

  Ram had no doubt Clark had missed. The dogs—five monsters—were in control. They’d singled out Grover and were taking him with them. Killing him.

  His rifle against his chest, Parker started after Grover and his captors. He’d taken maybe three steps when his son grabbed him around the waist. “Don’t! Dad, don’t.”

  “We can’t let them—”

  “It’s too late. I can’t believe—oh god, this is what happened to Kendall.”

  Only it wasn’t. Kendall had lived. Grover wouldn’t.

  Chapter Seventeen

  “That was another shot, but where is it coming from?” Darick demanded.

  “Listen.”

  Like before, the two strained to locate the sound that didn’t belong. The better part of a minute passed before Jeff gave up. “This isn’t doing us any good,” he said. “We’re too far from whatever’s happening.”

  “And maybe this path isn’t the one we should be on.”

  Jeff nodded. “We’ll wear ourselves out doing what?”

  If Darick realized Jeff had Darick’s bad back in mind, he’d bring it up. Instead, he glared at the dark green and brown walls all around.

  “Here’s what I think we should do,” Darick said. “We go back to the Jeep and wait for whoever was in it to return.”

  Jeff fought frustration. The forest had been relatively open where Mia had come across the wounded elk, but the farther he and Darick had walked, the denser the vegetation became. They were in a rain forest where it was too easy for a man to get lost.

  “All right,” he reluctantly agreed. “That’s going to take a while.”

  “That’s all right.”

  Safer. That’s what Darick had really said. “What if we try to drive up the road a bit once we get back to it? Maybe we’ll see something. It’s better than doing nothing.”

  “I’m good with that. I’m not crazy about this place. Too many areas for something to hide.”

  * * * *

  The twisting so-called road beyond where they’d been parked was in such bad shape Jeff was glad he wasn’t using his rig. Bouncing over and around an untold number of rocks was the last thing he’d want to subject it to. Once they’d backtracked to the logging road, it had taken at least fifteen minutes to travel a scant mile, and he was more than ready to find a spot wide enough to turn around. From what he could determine from the undisturbed dust, no other vehicle had been here in a long time.

  “At least we did this,” he said. “Now it’s back to the Jeep and waiting. Hoping to learn who’d fired twice and why.”

  “I’ll lay you odds its—” Darick leaned over the steering wheel. “Wait. Do you see—?”

  “Someone’s coming our way.”

  Darick shifted into Park and engaged the windshield wipers. Four armed men and a dog were coming toward them, their feet dragging and heads mostly down.

  One at a time, the men ack
nowledged the agency SUV. Even with the cloud cover, Jeff was able to read a great deal in their expressions. They weren’t just exhausted. They were in shock. The dog wasn’t in much better condition.

  “That’s Ram,” he said. “And Lyle Taft.”

  “Lyle’s dad is on his right. I’ve seen the other man, but can’t remember his name.”

  Jeff had wondered if he’d be able to acknowledge Ram without thinking about his history with Mia, but right now that didn’t matter. Lyle appeared to be in the worst shape, his face colorless, hunched over like an old man.

  Darick and he had placed their pistols on the seat between them. After Darick pulled the key from the ignition, they retrieved the weapons, secured them around their waists, and exited.

  When he was close enough, Lyle placed his rifle on the SUV’s hood and leaned against the vehicle. His eyes were those of a scared kid. The man Jeff couldn’t put a name deposited his rifle next to Lyle’s. That done, he propped his elbows on the hood and rested his head on his arms. In contrast, Ram and Parker Taft had stopped when they were, still several feet away. Jeff debated ordering them to put down their rifles, but decided to keep things neutral at least for now.

  “What’s going on?” Darick asked.

  Lyle glanced at Ram and his father. “I’ve never been so glad to see a vehicle in my life.” He sounded ready to cry.

  “Are you?” Darick asked. “Why don’t you tell us what you were up to? It isn’t hunting season, but you’re all armed.”

  “He’s dead,” Ram whispered.

  “Who’s dead?” Jeff pushed.

  “Grover. Grover Brown.”

  Jeff studied the four in turn. Last fall, he’d dealt with a hunter who’d accidently wounded one of his companions. The man had immediately owned up to his mistake. He didn’t care what happened to him, what penalty he’d have to pay, just that his friend was going to live, which fortunately, he had.

  “We heard two shots,” Darick said. “Did one of you shoot him?”

  “No!” Lyle’s eyes widened. “We tried to— Someone tell them.”

  When no one spoke, Jeff went around to the back of the SUV and opened the cooler Darick and he had filled with water bottles. He gave one to each man who gulped down the offering. When he’d finished his, Ram walked over to a boulder at the side of the road and sank onto it. He stretched out his legs and stared at them as if he’d never seen them before.

  “We need to know everything,” Jeff said. Much as he wanted to learn why Grover Brown was dead, he sensed the men needed to build up to it. “How about starting with what brought you here.”

  “The dogs,” Lyle whispered. “The damn horrible dogs.”

  “We promised Kendall,” his father added. “Told him we’d kill those beasts because of what they did to him.”

  “That’s what Darick and I thought,” Jeff said. “So the four—or I should say five of you armed yourselves and—”

  “We tried,” Lyle said. “But everything went wrong.”

  Between Lyle and his father, plus Ram adding a few words, Jeff had a fairly clear picture of the attack. While the explanation was going on, Darick collected the men’s rifles and placed them in the back of the SUV.

  “The grays took off with Grover?” he asked. “How far did you follow them? Maybe they let him go like they did with Kendall.”

  “No.” Unlike the older men, Lyle hadn’t bothered with sitting on a boulder. Instead, he’d sunk onto the road and was sitting cross-legged, worrying his boot laces. “It wasn’t like that.”

  Lyle knew what had happened both times. Fighting the impulse to put his arm around the younger man, Jeff asked him to describe the difference.

  “Do I have to? When they had Kendall, it was like those bastard dogs wanted us to know what they were doing. They dragged him just out of sight, but where we could hear— With Grover, he was just gone. They hauled him straight into the forest. I don’t know how they kept their footing, how they kept hold of him. Oh, shit. I’m never—”

  Guessing Lyle had stopped himself from admitting he’d never be able to sleep again, Jeff made a mental note to tell Parker to make sure his son got counseling ASAP.

  “I have a question,” he said. He waited until he was sure he had everyone’s attention. “Why do you think did they singled out Grover?”

  “Singled out?” Ram repeated. “What makes you ask that?”

  Jeff knew not to read too much into the man’s expression. Ram wasn’t in the present. The recent past was attacking him from all directions and threatening to pull him back in. Just the same, Jeff noted a change in his demeanor. Ram was no longer simply trying to keep his emotions under control. He was fighting to close a door on something.

  “You made it clear,” Jeff said, “that all five of the animals zeroed in on Grover. Why was that?” He shook his head so maybe Ram would conclude that he was trying to straighten things out in his mind. “It’s my understanding the same thing happened when Kendall was attacked. Everyone else was left alone.”

  “What does it matter?” Ram challenged. “That it would have made a difference if we’d all been torn—you have no business grilling us. Grover’s dead. The only thing I’m interested in is getting off this damn mountain.” He jerked his head at Lyle. “Try to make him feel safe.”

  If Ram truly cared about Lyle’s safety, none of them would be here. The more time he spent with the men, the more frustrated he became. They should have left dealing with the grays up to officers like Darick and himself, not try to take the law into their hands. If they had, Grover would be alive.

  “We’re concerned with everyone’s well-being,” Darick said. “We understand your wanting to leave, but Jeff and I can’t let you go until we know where to look for Grover and the grays.”

  “Look?” Ram parroted. “You’re crazy.”

  “I’m not going back,” Lyle said. “Dad? Please don’t.”

  “Don’t worry,” Parker reassured his son. “I’m not getting ten feet from you until we’re back home. Jeff, Darick, my son’s traumatized enough. It’d kill him to have to relive—”

  “Same with me,” the fourth man, who’d introduced himself as Clark Walters broke in. He’d removed his left boot, revealing a bloody sock. “Give us a ride to the Jeep. We’ll talk later. Later’s soon enough.”

  No, it wasn’t. Unfortunately, he and Darick couldn’t force these men to return to what had been a nightmare for them. He met his partner’s gaze, received the nod he’d known he’d get.

  “All right,” he said. “Here’s what we’re going to do. Everyone get in our vehicle. While you were higher up the road, did you see a spot where we can turn around?”

  “Yeah,” Clark said. “The trail out from where it happened leads to where the logging road ends. Ram got us right on it.”

  Jeff focused on Ram. “It sounds as if you already knew about that trail.”

  “Y—eah.”

  “It’s good you did. Otherwise, you would have had to retrace your steps all the way to where Kendall was attacked.”

  “What are you saying?” Ram challenged. “Are you accusing me—?”

  “I’m not accusing you of anything. Just noting that this wasn’t your first time to where you last saw Grover.”

  Ram returned Jeff’s stare. “Do we have to talk about this now?”

  “No. But what I’d like to have clarified relates to Grover’s actions. To repeat, we heard two widely-spaced shots. If you were trying to get the grays off Grover, the shots would have come one after the other. There’d have been more of them. What happened before he was attacked? Was it his rifle we heard?”

  No one answered.

  * * * *

  “I was thinking Lyle was the most likely to break, but I didn’t want to go after him for the rest of the story. The kid’s messed up.”

  Jeff stopped walking and acknowledged Darick. His partner was a little thin-lipped but so far he hadn’t had any trouble keeping up. “Yeah, he is. Hopefully his da
d can shove his own emotions aside enough to see that.”

  “What was the big deal about them refusing to say what Grover did? Considering what happened, they shouldn’t have been thinking about whether they were in legal trouble. They piss me off. I’m just glad Lyle didn’t fire that first shot. He probably wouldn’t be alive if he had.”

  Wouldn’t be alive was as close as he and Darick had gotten to voicing what this hike was about. The clouds’ blanket hid the sun. He didn’t wear a watch and hadn’t looked at his cell phone since he’d watched the Jeep disappear around a turn in the logging road. Since then, they’d returned to where they’d picked up the men, put on their backpacks, and taken off. It had to be at least the middle of the afternoon, maybe later. Ram had said it was about a quarter-mile from the logging road to where they’d last seen Grover. Jeff was keeping to a slow-for-him pace for Darick’s sake, but that barely factored into the question of what they’d be able to accomplish before it got dark.

  One thing he knew. He wasn’t going to spend the night in the forest.

  “Ram and the others don’t know about the grays’ back-story,” he said. “They might never put it together that Kendall and now Grover are being punished for what they did to some creature the grays consider sacred.”

  “That’s what I’m figuring. I don’t understand why they collectively decided to keep their mouths shut. I’m sure Grover didn’t miss whatever he shot at. Otherwise, the grays wouldn’t have jumped him.”

  The vegetation kept trying to swallow their low voices. Maybe they shouldn’t say anything. Stay silent so hopefully they stood a better chance of hearing anything that wasn’t part of the forest’s normal heartbeat. Logic aside, Jeff needed assurance that he wasn’t the only human out here. Darick probably felt the same way.

  “I just hope to hell it wasn’t Ice,” he said. “That’d kill Mia.”

  “Don’t even think it. I’d love to see that bull. Hopefully, take a picture of him.”