It was already late and there was little left to say. Each man unrolled his bedroll and after settling in, drifted to sleep after the hard day…all but Rusty. John’s words echoed in his mind. A deep anger and resentment filled his belly with fire. How dare he call me a coward, Rusty fumed. I’m a fire fighter! Bravery is a requirement of my job!

The next morning Rusty awoke to find the others already up and gathering their gear. Surveying their stern faces through the haze of sleep, he couldn’t help but wonder if this was all a dream. The men before him were no longer the men he’d rode in with. Something strange was taking place here, but he couldn’t quite put his finger on it. If destiny were real, he couldn’t help but wonder if his destiny was to stop this madness.

John stirred the ashes, adding small timbers to the coals, and soon had a fire going. He cooked up bacon and used the grease to make water gravy, which they ate over stale bread. The men ate in silence.

After breakfast, each man saddled his mount and began loading up supplies. As promised, John supplied Rusty with enough food to make the trek back and reminded him to give his mount free rein. Rusty only nodded in response.

“Let’s saddle up,” John yelled about an hour after first light. “It’s time to do this, boys.”

Brian walked his mount up to Rusty. “I hope you’ll keep this to yourself until we get back.”

“What if you don’t come back?” Rusty asked in a cold voice.

“Then I trust you’ll let our loved ones know what happened.”

Rusty strained to hold back the tears that were threatening to surface. “I always thought of you as a mentor, Brian. You took me under your wing when I became interested in sasquatch research.” He shook his head. “Now I feel the need to offer you advice. Turn away from this, Brian. It’s not too late. This goes against everything you believe and have taught me. Turn away from it, Brian.”

Click to enlarge.
Copyright 2007 Pat Barker.

Brian couldn’t help but feel pity for Rusty. He understood all too well the emotions his friend was feeling. “I can’t turn away, Rusty. I know you don’t understand that. And I don’t blame you. Unlike John, I don’t see you as a coward. But for me, I would be a coward if I turned back now. I know it’s what I must do. John was right in one regard. It all started the day I had my sighting. This, Rusty, is my destiny, and I can no more turn back than you can go along.” He regarded the younger man with a small smile. “Be safe, my friend. Remember what I said.”

Brian patted Rusty’s horse on the neck then turned his mount around and rode after the others who had already headed out.

“You’re a fool, Brian!” Rusty yelled after him. Brian did not stop or turn around.

“You’re a hypocrite! All your no kill speeches were just words!”

Brian kept riding.

As his friends followed the cowboy and disappeared over the horizon, Rusty slouched down in his saddle and broke into tears. With the reins hanging free, his mount turned back to the north and slowly began the trip back to the ranch.

Brian caught up with the others a couple hundred yards later as they prepared to drop into the bottomlands where they would intersect with Swine Creek.

John kept his eyes to the ground, ever mindful of staying on the track. Levi looked straight ahead, his thoughts a million miles away. Brian had a good idea what was going through Levi’s head. The same things were going through his as well. They had to prepare themselves for the violence that was to come.

By mid morning, they had crossed the Swine and were riding a ridgeline that offered better footing for their mounts, which meant more speed. They galloped along silently. John’s eyes were no longer on the ground, but on the horizon. His plan was now being implemented. He was anticipating the movement of the sasquatch clan and working his small army into a position to intercept them.

They stopped around noontime. They ate a quick and cold lunch of potted meat and bread. Brian took this opportunity to ask a few questions.

“John, don’t you think it’s time to fill us in on the rest of your plan?”

Without hesitation, John replied, “It’s fairly simple. I’ve told you most of it already. We get ahead of them and set up an ambush in the narrow timbers I told you about. It’s the only place they can cross without being exposed. We’ll be waiting there for them.”

“There’s one problem with that plan, John.” Levi said. “These are nocturnal creatures we’re dealing with. It will likely be dark when they come through, if they take that route at all. If your plan is to gun them down, then how do you plan on taking aim in the dark?”

John smiled. “You forget I was a soldier. Killing was my specialty. If I know where the enemy is, I can predict the time of the engagement. That thin stretch of timber goes on for about a mile. I’m going to insure that they are caught in that stretch of timber when the sun comes up.”

“Okay,” Brian agreed. “And how do you plan on doing that?”

John walked over to Ole Ned, reached down into one of his saddlebags and began rummaging around. “You men brought a bag of tricks with you…cameras, plaster, and what not.” John pulled out a roll of thin cable and a small electronic device. “I brought a few toys of my own.”

“What the hell is that?” Brian asked anxiously.

“Just the tools of my trade,” John said, stuffing them back into his pack. “Think of that thin strip of timber as a gauntlet. Once they enter my gauntlet, they won’t be able to turn back, and if we have anything to do about it, they’ll never make it through.”

“I sure hope you know what the hell you’re doing,” Levi said, more than a little worried.

John turned and regarded them both with a questioning glare. “The question isn’t whether I know what I’m doing or not. Our success is going to depend on whether you men have the stomach to do what it takes to achieve victory.”

Levi and Brian exchanged a glance. When they saddled their mounts a few minutes later, both men had a lot to think about. Unlike John, they didn’t have the benefit of military training to steel them for killing.

Not so far away, Rusty gripped the reins tightly as he led his horse into the swirling current of Swine Creek and up the opposite bank. He stopped at the top of the bank and dismounted. Keeping the reins in hand, he squatted down and examined the tracks in front of him. “It doesn’t take an experienced tracker to follow you, John,” he said in a small, menacing voice.

—

To be continued…