Hunting the Wolf (An Original Story – Part 4)

Part Four

Blood beats with a deafening thunder in Jason’s head.

He flicks off his mittens, and plants down at the top of the ridge. Laying down into a prone shooting position, he grounds both elbows and steadies the rifle in his right hand.

From afar, Owlfeather’s voice, faint. Justice…

The first shot rings out, blowing an ear off the wolf licking its paw.

… before …

It begins yelping, but is cut off short when he fires another shot.

… retribution.

Jason snarls out loud, firing three times.

The wolves scatter, all of their faces turning up towards him. The siren’s wail is not enough to overcome the lonesome crack of the Remington, or Jason’s cries. Each bullet leaves a wounded wolf in its wake except for the final one.

He nervously slides back down to the trail, careful of his ankle injury. The ringing in his ears from the shots echoes the familiar voice. You never leave a body out to rot.

“I want to go back home.”

It will draw more predators.

Jason shakes his head, no intentions of visiting the bloody scene below. Besides, there’s the wolf that missed the bullet.

Jason stands upright, realizing where the rifle is: the ground. He bends to pick it up.

An unusual sound seems to overlay the howl of Siren’s Gorge. Pit-pat, pit-pat.

Jason turns as the final wolf descends upon his shoulders like a buring fire, its eyes emblazoned with revenge. Its teeth snap shut inches from his nose. Jason pushes back against the wall of the trail, his hands maneuvered around the wolf’s thick, matted neck. Its breath is heavy with sulfur and meat, its nose wet and cold.

The wolf grabs a hold of the left sleeve of Jason’s Pendleton, gnawing and tearing at it as if real flesh. Jason pushes his right hand into his waistband, finding the short-barreled Colt handgun. He pulls it out, pushing it between the rock and his body towards the lower jaw of the wolf. His thumb frantically cocks the hammer.

He pulls the trigger.

The wolf’s head blows back away from him. All he feels is a light warm mist upon his face.

The body falls to the ground, twitching. Jason’s mouth salivates, a dry heave beginning in the back of his throat. He stands with his hands on his knees, drawing in deep breaths of air, his ankle all but forgotten. The dry heaving stops and he wipes spittle from his lower lip.

He collects the rifle from the ground and stumbles back down the way he came. He reaches the split in the trail and eyes the other pathway.

A single set of prints and blood drops, leading away.

An eagle calls from above, soaring.

“No, it can’t be.” Jason scrambles up the other path, following the wolf's paw prints. The rocks and pebbles and ice scatter behind him, and his bloodthirst aches with the salt of guilt.

Grandfather Owlfeather’s words echo within his consciousness.

Read the next chapter:
Part Five

Start at the beginning:
Part One | Part Two | Part Three

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"Hunting the Wolf" is a 6-part speculative science fiction story about a young man enacting revenge on an alien planet. Who do we become when we fight our enemy? I welcome feedback on this story about Man vs. Nature. Stay tuned, as I also will be publishing my 300,000 word epic novel "The Messiah" on Steemit in 2017.

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