They should have turned back, but there was a lot riding on finding this animal. Steve needed the money. He had no idea how much his treatment would cost, but he had a sense it would be a lot. He liked living, and was going to do whatever it took to keep doing the thing he liked.
Soon the dampness soaked through their clothes, and even though they had the proper wind-and-water resistant gear on it wasn’t enough.
“This gear ain’t meant for diving.” Carl said, as if he had read Steve’s thoughts. They settled under a pine with thick branches to get at least some kind of shelter, and Steve huddled next to him.
“I think we’ve lost the tracks.”
“Oh ya think, do you? What makes you say that, genius? Maybe the fact that we’re trying to track it under a pitch-black, goddamn waterfall in a forest we just now set our feet in for the first time?”
Steve knew his friend’s temper, and it was better to not say anything in retort. Instead he reached into his sodden coat pocket, offering a bit of chewing tobacco to Carl. They never smoked when on the hunt, but still needed their nicotine fix, so it was the perfect solution. Without a word Carl took the lump and shoved it into his mouth.
“Of course it’s mint, lame fucking flavor.” He scoffed at the peace offering, but chewed down nonetheless.
“What the Hell is with you, seriously?” Steve erupted. “I know I messed up with the shot, but it’s not like we haven’t had to work for our fee in the past. And this isn’t even the worst weather we’ve tracked something in, so what the Hell is grinding your anus?”
Carl chewed once more on the tobacco, then spat it on the ground. He took a moment to decide whether or not to tell Steve what had happened, but figured he may as well.
“Mackenzie left me, and she took the kids.”
Steve paused. He felt his anger cool down as the rain ran down his back, and he took in what his friend had just said.
“Shit man, I am sorry. Can she do that?”
“I don’t know. I suppose, especially since I haven’t exactly been a model husband with the drinking and all. We had our ups and downs for sure, but I really did love ‘em.”
Steve recounted all the times Mackenzie had called him in panic from their bathroom when Carl was in one of his moods. He was usually trying to kick down the door while their two kids, Clara and James, were bawling their eyes out in the next room. At some point Steve had lost count of the number of calls, and of the number of times he had exchanged punches with his best friend when he was too drunk to listen to reason. All the same, Steve knew deep down that Carl was a good man.
“Maybe she’s just a cunt like the rest of them.”
Really, really deep down.
“Hey, not cool. That’s my sister.”
“Sorry.”
“When was this?”
“Two, maybe two-and-a-half weeks ago.”
Steve wasn’t surprised that Mackenzie hadn’t called him. She had always been ashamed that she ignored Carl’s drunken fits, and she was ashamed that she had chosen a husband that was so much like their father had been.
He would call her first thing tomorrow.
Steve placed his hand reassuringly on his friend’s shoulder, and they stood there in the cold, soggy darkness without saying a word as the rain pummeled down around them.
The poachers had gotten lucky with their rain-based misfortune, and they had been about three hours into the chase when they realized they were utterly lost. The tracks had gone pretty much in a straight line, but the darkness, plus relentless rain, had made navigation essentially impossible.
As they stood under the tree they decided to call it quits, and instead prioritized finding their way out of the forest. While retracing their steps they heard labored breathing, and it was coming from not too far away in the blackness of the forest. By sheer luck they had somehow circled behind the bear, and Steve didn’t plan on missing twice.
Carl prepped his rifle against his shoulder and went on point, following the sound. Steve took his position back and to the right of Carl, quietly placing an arrow on his SR6. Steve always hunted with a bow, even though lately his hands had been shaking more and more. Sometimes they felt like they weren’t even his.
The huffing was moving away from them, but they were quickly gaining on the creature. Carl nodded and drew Steve’s attention to the trunk of a tree. Even in the inky rain he could see the shine of blood on the bark as rivulets of water ran through it.
Closing in on the kill was always a very exciting moment. Steve’s vision narrowed, and the sounds of the rain pounding on the ground and the foliage faded into the background. The labored sound of the bear’s breathing heightened, and he didn’t feel the cold or the wetness anymore. The clamminess of the inner layer of his clothes was not there anymore, and those things just didn’t matter. He was in the zone, and he knew Carl was too.
They started to put their weight more carefully on each step, drilling their boots toe-first into the ground to avoid stepping on loose branches. They moved as quickly as they could, while still moving as silently as possible. The breathing was getting closer with every step, and it was clear that their quarry was slowing down.
The rain stopped almost as abruptly as it had come, water was slowly dripping off the branches as a biting wind began to pick up. The gusts seeped through their clothes and embedded a chill into the bones of the
