The Beast of Big Timber by S.T. Hoover

Author:S.T. Hoover [Hoover, S.T.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Project 89 Media, LLC
Published: 2023-03-30T00:00:00+00:00

Session 12

None of what I was about to do was a good idea.

It took me far too long to figure that out, even though every step hurt. Looking back, I should have known it was a bad idea, but at the time, anger and quite frankly hatred fueled me as I trekked through the forest.

The beasts had left a very clear trail, but it wouldn't have been if I hadn't been looking for them. If I was just out hunting, I would have thought it was a bear or elk that had wandered through the forest.

Their trails are everywhere. They are everywhere. At least, at certain times of the year.

I found myself tracking them more like a hunter than a mantracker. Tracking a person is easy, as they tend to leave pretty distinct footprints in areas like these. Most hunters and hikers go into the wilderness wearing heavy-duty boots that would stick out like a sore thumb against the mud and brush. That wasn't the case here. Here, the prints were clear enough, but only to the trained eye. It’s very rare to find a full track, and partials can look like other common animals. But I knew what left these, and I knew I could follow them to get Glock back.

After a while, I happened upon the largest hunk of shit I ever did see. And I’d seen some doozies out in the forest, let me tell you! Hell, I’d already seen Squatch shit back at the lodge, but I get the feeling that those logs were mostly just to piss me off. This, for lack of a “family-friendly” way to describe it, looked like it had been shat with intent, and not pleasantly.

Definitely wasn't bear shit, but from the look of it, there was plenty of berries and such in their diet, not to mention small animals. I wasn't exactly in a position to take a good, long look at it, but I did notice some fur and one or two small bones mixed in. Probably squirrel, if I had to guess.

I left the “present” they’d left me behind and followed the trail up a rise, the first I’d come upon in two hours of tracking. But before cresting the hill, I felt the distinct sensation of being watched. Squatch, man, bear, or otherwise, I did not know. So I wasn't about to risk being on low ground.

I reached the top of the rise and fell right into their trap.

No, they weren't waiting for me, but they had been watching me from afar. The moment I looked out across the small canyon between us, I heard the thunderous pounding of feet on the other side, going in the opposite direction. And to my horror, I saw them at the top of the rise directly across from me.

Three of them, a dark form over one of their backs.

Glock.

The one carrying her was the only one that chanced a look back at me, Glock yelping as she did. Then, it bolted down the hill and out of sight.

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