Big Sky by Alex Ander

Author:Alex Ander
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Alex Ander
Published: 0101-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter 10

Break

One Hour Later

Having stayed on the upward-sloping trail, now several hundred feet higher from where they had started, Lockhart and Sierra had kept the conversation lighthearted and to a minimum, so she could focus on reading Ranger’s reactions.

At this point in the late afternoon/early evening, the temperatures had dropped several degrees, because of a convergence of the approaching night, higher altitude, and the forthcoming storm.

On Sierra’s immediate right, Lockhart adjusted his pack and rifle, happy he had added another layer of clothing beneath his leather jacket.

Ten feet ahead, his nose dipping low to sniff the ground then rising to take in whiffs of the air, Ranger skittered left and right but stayed on the path.

Spotting a downed tree trunk in a small clearing to her right, Sierra checked her watch then pointed at the clearing. “Let’s take five. Ranger, come.”

The dog reversed course, came to her, and sat facing his owner.

“Good boy.” She patted him then unhooked the leash from his harness. “Break.”

Ranger went to all fours and began sniffing the ground as he moved around the clearing, stopping a few seconds later to lift his leg and pee on a shrub before continuing his inspection of the area.

Lockhart watched the dog acting like any other dog in the woods or in his owner’s backyard. “Is he going to take off on us?”

Sierra slid her backpack off her shoulders and laid it on the ground before sitting on the horizontal tree trunk. “He won’t go far. He just needs some downtime to do his business and rest. Like I said, he can’t trail for hours on end anymore. I mean, he will. He’ll keep going until he’s dragging himself along on his front paws.”

Lockhart shrugged off his Henry rifle and backpack then sat on her left.

“But,” she retrieved a water bottle, took a swig, and swallowed, “but I don’t like pushing him past an hour at a time.”

Lockhart nodded while propping the Big Boy against the trunk on his left.

“Question for you,” she motioned toward the gun, “since you’re still in law enforcement, and there’s no shortage of semi-autos with 30-round magazines, why the lever gun?”

He eyed the item in question while digging his own water bottle from his pack. “Guess I never felt the need for anything else. Plus, it fits with the landscape and people around here.” He drank then put the cap on his container. “Don’t get me wrong. If I were going to war, I’d certainly be strapping up with an M4 and carrying as many 30-round mags as I could stuff into my vest.”

She smiled.

“But,” he motioned toward the gun, “that’s plenty intimidating to sway those who,” he took a moment, “who may have less-than-honorable intentions, let’s say.” Lockhart spied her. “Why do you ask?”

“Ever since moving back to Wyoming, I’ve been researching them, trying to decide on which one to get. And the Henry’s on my list. Do you like it?”

“Love it. Shoots straight. Butter-smooth action. Crisp trigger. And it holds ten in the tube.

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