01-15-2018, 06:10 PM
This was a bad idea. He thought for about the hundredth time since abandoning the truck. Night had well and truly fallen, and although toasty warm wrapped in expertly chosen layers built to oppose the elements, the temperatures were plummeting fast. Probably best he didn't know the real temperature. it wouldn't bode well to know how fast he was going to die.
He found solid footing in the knee-deep snow for a rest. Snow-drifts on the bank of the road were probably waist-high. Following parallel to their path was about the only way he could tell where the road even was. The tracks from dad's truck were long ago obscured. The wind blew fresh powder over them ages ago.
But he needed to catch his breath and take a survey of surroundings. His feet were lead. Trudging through snow, even on legs that obliterated minimum PT standards, in this amount of snow was exhausting work. Not to mention that he kept having to shove the rifle back up a shoulder, until he got fed up and slung the strap over his chest and let it hang off his back. If only the same could be done for the shotgun, but it had no strap. He carried it the old-fashioned way. Not to mention that his pockets were weighed down by a handful of ammunition. He'd have to strip the gloves from his hands to load the weapons. His current gloves weren't built for that kind of nimble finger-work. With that in mind, he checked the horizon to his left. He thought that he saw some flashes of eye globes a while back, but nothing came of it. He'd not be surprised. Every coyote in three miles probably smelled fresh blood. They were growing hungry enough that they may start attacking livestock. Luckily, Jay already pulled the calves back to the barn. They were unlikely to attack anything bigger than a calf unless things got a lot worse. But a single guy walking along a dirt road? He was prime choice grade-A meat. Jay kept a wary eye on his down-wind side just in case.
Respite over. He made his legs go again. If it weren't for the likelihood of being ravaged by starving coyotes or freezing to death, or starving to death himself, there better be some meatloaf left over, then the walk might have been enjoyable. Giant flakes of soft fluff fell. He rather liked the solitude.
He still couldn't figure out where dad must have gone. Suppose it was possible he went somewhere else besides the house. Maybe Pastor Mason's house? The pastor's electricity was back on, but they had been borrowing firewood for a couple weeks now. He would have mentioned, that, though. But what stuck in Jay's brain was the hesitation. He had been unsure of whether to go home or not. Town was thirty minute drive away. There was a gas station closer than that out in the middle of no where. It was the closest place that sold tequila. Dad had been hitting the bottle more often, lately. Jay never really thought of it, mostly because he drank right alongside him. Didn't explain why he would want to hide the destination. Usually he offered to bring something back for Jay.
That left one plausible idea. A girlfriend? Besides the fact that was gross, that had to be it. He was cheating on mom. Jay's jaw clenched tight. That son of a bitch! How could he possibly cheat on mom?! How long had this been going on?! First thing he was going to do when he got back was find out for himself.
Assuming he made it back. Okay. That was definitely a flash of eyes. Jay stared off into the darkness like he could will himself to see through it. Those little bastards were quick. The shadow of one darted. Jay spun and caught sight of another behind. They were growing bolder. It was amazing how they could suddenly appear.
He pulled his gloves from his fingers. Exposed skin could freeze in a matter of minutes, but the underlayer of gloves were enough to buy him a good five or ten minutes before losing sensation. Luckily, he didn't need that long.
He loaded the shotgun and let his senses stretch over the horizon. His heart was steady. His eyes sharp. Ears tuned. The crunch of snow was almost imperceptible. He pulled one of the two flares from a pocket, snapped it and tossed it nearby. The sudden pulse of light flashed over four slender creatures.
Startled by the light, he had half a second to locate them. Semi-auto 12 gauge already raised, he took aim. At less than 10 yards, he fired and the first coyote went down. He swung quickly to the right and rolled a second at less than twenty yards. Two shots later and the third coyote was dead. He grabbed the rifle from his back and followed the fourth with a pop of gunfire, but it was over the hill and disappeared into darkness before the connection was made. He relaxed and slung the rifle back over his shoulder. The shotgun was already cooled to the touch in the freezing air. Speaking of, he tugged the work-gloves back on, took a deep breath, and kept on walking. At least the attack got his blood pumping again.
Edited by Jay Carpenter, Jan 15 2018, 06:24 PM.
He found solid footing in the knee-deep snow for a rest. Snow-drifts on the bank of the road were probably waist-high. Following parallel to their path was about the only way he could tell where the road even was. The tracks from dad's truck were long ago obscured. The wind blew fresh powder over them ages ago.
But he needed to catch his breath and take a survey of surroundings. His feet were lead. Trudging through snow, even on legs that obliterated minimum PT standards, in this amount of snow was exhausting work. Not to mention that he kept having to shove the rifle back up a shoulder, until he got fed up and slung the strap over his chest and let it hang off his back. If only the same could be done for the shotgun, but it had no strap. He carried it the old-fashioned way. Not to mention that his pockets were weighed down by a handful of ammunition. He'd have to strip the gloves from his hands to load the weapons. His current gloves weren't built for that kind of nimble finger-work. With that in mind, he checked the horizon to his left. He thought that he saw some flashes of eye globes a while back, but nothing came of it. He'd not be surprised. Every coyote in three miles probably smelled fresh blood. They were growing hungry enough that they may start attacking livestock. Luckily, Jay already pulled the calves back to the barn. They were unlikely to attack anything bigger than a calf unless things got a lot worse. But a single guy walking along a dirt road? He was prime choice grade-A meat. Jay kept a wary eye on his down-wind side just in case.
Respite over. He made his legs go again. If it weren't for the likelihood of being ravaged by starving coyotes or freezing to death, or starving to death himself, there better be some meatloaf left over, then the walk might have been enjoyable. Giant flakes of soft fluff fell. He rather liked the solitude.
He still couldn't figure out where dad must have gone. Suppose it was possible he went somewhere else besides the house. Maybe Pastor Mason's house? The pastor's electricity was back on, but they had been borrowing firewood for a couple weeks now. He would have mentioned, that, though. But what stuck in Jay's brain was the hesitation. He had been unsure of whether to go home or not. Town was thirty minute drive away. There was a gas station closer than that out in the middle of no where. It was the closest place that sold tequila. Dad had been hitting the bottle more often, lately. Jay never really thought of it, mostly because he drank right alongside him. Didn't explain why he would want to hide the destination. Usually he offered to bring something back for Jay.
That left one plausible idea. A girlfriend? Besides the fact that was gross, that had to be it. He was cheating on mom. Jay's jaw clenched tight. That son of a bitch! How could he possibly cheat on mom?! How long had this been going on?! First thing he was going to do when he got back was find out for himself.
Assuming he made it back. Okay. That was definitely a flash of eyes. Jay stared off into the darkness like he could will himself to see through it. Those little bastards were quick. The shadow of one darted. Jay spun and caught sight of another behind. They were growing bolder. It was amazing how they could suddenly appear.
He pulled his gloves from his fingers. Exposed skin could freeze in a matter of minutes, but the underlayer of gloves were enough to buy him a good five or ten minutes before losing sensation. Luckily, he didn't need that long.
He loaded the shotgun and let his senses stretch over the horizon. His heart was steady. His eyes sharp. Ears tuned. The crunch of snow was almost imperceptible. He pulled one of the two flares from a pocket, snapped it and tossed it nearby. The sudden pulse of light flashed over four slender creatures.
Startled by the light, he had half a second to locate them. Semi-auto 12 gauge already raised, he took aim. At less than 10 yards, he fired and the first coyote went down. He swung quickly to the right and rolled a second at less than twenty yards. Two shots later and the third coyote was dead. He grabbed the rifle from his back and followed the fourth with a pop of gunfire, but it was over the hill and disappeared into darkness before the connection was made. He relaxed and slung the rifle back over his shoulder. The shotgun was already cooled to the touch in the freezing air. Speaking of, he tugged the work-gloves back on, took a deep breath, and kept on walking. At least the attack got his blood pumping again.
Edited by Jay Carpenter, Jan 15 2018, 06:24 PM.
Only darkness shows you the light.