The rest of the team woke up to two inches of snow on the ground and a calm sunny day. Tom noticed the air blowing in from the west was warmer than the previous week. “People, we need to find and destroy the wolf pack before the snow melts. We have a day, maybe two, to find them.”
Jack’s team went straight to the carcass and found plenty of tracks. He saw the drone above the trees and pointed northeast. The drone sped away, following the tracks. They didn’t want to use the walkie-talkies to avoid being discovered, but Jerry had found some low range ones like kids used. These only had a range of a few miles, and Kate had already had two drones checking for any intruders near the ranch. None were found. Jerry keyed the mic. “Can you see the tracks?”
Jackie responded, “Yes, but sometimes we lose them in thick brush. We’re circling the area a quarter-mile northeast of your position to try to find the trail again.”
The drones didn’t find the trail, but Jerry’s team followed the paw prints through the thicket and up a stream until the wolves left the creek a mile north of where their path was lost. Jackie saw the trail again and saw several tracks heading into a large brush pile. “Jack, I think we found the den. You’re almost there. I don’t see any wolves. Kate, do you see anything?”
“Yes, there’s a dozen or more heading toward Jack’s men. Jack, they’re only a hundred yards east of you. I think they circled back on you,” Kate said.
Jack alerted his men, and they climbed up in several trees in time to see the wolves sneaking up on them. Jack said, “Wait until they’re close enough to shoot at least two each.”
Rick was the only hunter with an AR. The others had .30 o6 hunting rifles with magazines that only held three to five bullets, plus one in the chamber. The wolves couldn’t see the men, but the humans’ odor filled the air. The beasts were about thirty feet from the hunters when one of the wolves saw Jack and growled. The pack surrounded the tree.
Jack yelled, “Don’t shoot me, but kill the bastards.”
The other hunters took aim and fired their weapons. Three wolves dropped and then a fourth when Jack shot one from fifteen feet away. Rick got off three shots for every one the others fired. The deafening noise scared the last three wolves away. Jack keyed his mic. “Where did the ones that escaped go?”
Kate spoke over the radio. “They ran west instead of going to the den. How many of the monsters could be left alive?”
Rick replied, “There’s no way to tell. There are eight dead wolves over here, and three escaped. There could be ten to twenty left. We need to get them out of the den. I think I’ll start a fire in that brush.”
Kate replied. “No! Jerry thought we might need to flush them out. Get your men ready to shoot, and we’ll get them out.”
“Okay. Guys, let’s get down and head over to the den.”
The men shouldered their rifles and scrambled down the trees. Bill’s feet were only a few feet from touching the ground when the wolves attacked again. The three had only hidden before coming back to get revenge. One wolf bit Bill’s calf while another clamped down on his high top boot. The wolf viciously shook Bill’s foot as the third wolf moved in for the kill. Rick dropped the last five feet, drawing his Berretta on the way down. He hit the ground, bounced up, and fired. The third wolf was down.
Rick ran the twenty-five feet to Bill, shooting while running. The wolf that had been biting Bill’s foot was down. The remaining wolf turned Jack’s calf loose and launched at Rick. Rick couldn’t shoot because Bill was in the line of fire. He dropped his pistol and drew his bayonet. The wolf’s jaws almost closed on Rick’s arm, but Rick slammed the butt of the bayonet into the creature’s snout. With one hand grasping the beast’s throat, Rick jabbed his knife into the wolf as fast as he could with powerful thrusts. The monster fell at his feet.
Rick shook and trembled as he regained his wits. He saw Bill prone on the ground and ran to him. Bill’s leg bled profusely, so Rick took his handkerchief and made a tourniquet. He used his knife to twist the tourniquet and stop the bleeding. He tied the blade in place. “Bill, you know the drill. Open it up to let the blood get to your leg, and then twist it down tight again.”
“Can’t I just put pressure on the wound and stop the blood?”
“No! I’m putting a blood clotting agent on the wound, and the blood flow would wash it away. Let the clotting agent and tourniquet do their job, and then pressure should work,” Rick said.
Rick applied the clotting agent and said, “Jack asked for some help. They’re bringing some horses up to fetch you, and we’ll stand guard until they arrive. We’ll take care of the den afterward.”
Tom, Granny B, and Jerry arrived fifteen minutes later and took Bill back to the bunker. Tom took his AR from his shoulder and two more from his saddle and joined the hunters. “Here’s some firepower. I want to quickly dispatch these beasts when they come out of the den. Kate identified two entrances. We’ll position ourselves so we don’t shoot each other but cover the openings. Happy hunting.”
A few minutes later, they were in position. “Kate, drop whatever Jerry has concocted to
