Page 26
Story: The First Hunt
Even though it wasn’t hunting season, his dad insisted on bringing the gun anyway. For protection.
“The moment your prey becomes aware of you,” his dad continued, “you’ve lost your advantage. That’s why it’s vital to remain concealed until you’re ready to kill.”
A deep growl emitted from somewhere in the forest ahead. John jerked his head toward the sound just as a massive brown bear emerged from the trees. It sauntered through the woods less than one hundred feet away, heading toward the river.
His father slipped his rifle off his shoulder and held it out for John to take, pressing the butt against the front of John’s shoulder before he wrapped John’s hand beneath the base of the barrel.
“Line it up in your sights,” his father whispered in John’s ear.
John closed one eye as his father had taught him. His hand shook as he worked to keep the gun aimed on the moving bear’s back.
“Now, shoot.”
“What?” John lowered the gun to see his dad’s hard-set gaze.
“Shoot,” he repeated.
John’s brows knitted together. “But it’s not hunting season. You said—”
A guttural growl cut through the silent woods. John’s lungs seemed to harden as the bear cocked his head toward them. It snarled, exposing large, yellowed fangs.
His dad snatched the weapon from John’s hands and aimed it at the beast. The bear turned away and ran toward the river as the rifle’s deafening blast echoed through the silent forest. John’s ears rang as the huge animal dropped to the ground in a massive heap.
He turned to his dad, watching him lower the gun, then looked back at the lifeless brown mound of fur.
“It wasn’t going to hurt us,” John said. “It was running away.”
“The second key to hunting is never to hesitate. When you have the opportunity to kill, you take it.”
John studied the animal’s corpse.
“Let’s go. It’ll be dark soon.”
John tore his gaze from the bear and followed his dad, and for the first time on their trip, his thoughts returned to Sally.
Chapter 13
HOLLY
Holly’s leg jiggled as she sat beside Andy on the wooden bench outside the courtroom, waiting to be called. Thinking of Jared sitting inside the room behind them, pleading not guilty, made her stomach churn. She’d hoped it would be liberating to get out of her apartment and get this day over with, but now that she was here, under the same roof as her violent ex-fiancé, she felt overcome with the same fear that had ripped through her the last time she’d seen him.
“Ready?” Andy asked.
She smoothed the wrinkles on the front of her blouse that she’d donned at four in the morning after giving up on sleep. “No.”
She stopped herself from imagining what it would be like to be on the witness stand alone, pointing Jared out to the jury as the man who tried to kill her. If she did, she might throw up.
She longed for a cigarette, but she’d thrown them all out after she’d quit.Probably a good thing.Once she started again, she might never stop.Instead, she settled for a piece of gum from the opened pack inside her purse.
She’d started smoking in college but then had quit after Meg had been killed. Growing up, Meg had been disgusted by smoking, calling it a dirty habit. After her sister died, every cigarette felt like a betrayal somehow. Holly imagined Meg looking down on her from wherever she was, despising her smoking.
She squeezed her eyes shut, the image of Jared's face—pale, blood blooming across his stomach—flashing behind her eyelids. Then her own body sprawled on the floor, the acrid tang of blood in the air, the siren's wail slicing through the chaos. She'd woken to flashing lights, police officers looming, the pounding in her head a deafening roar. Jared lay on the floor nearby, bleeding out from the gunshot to his stomach.
After emergency surgery, Jared had made a full recovery before being arrested for her assault. According to her doctors, she’d made a full recovery too—until the panic attacks, nightmares, and insomnia set in. Now, two months later, she couldn’t fall asleep without taking a sleeping pill, but she still dreamed of Jared. She didn’t know which was worse: not sleeping or waking up in a cold sweat like she was reliving Jared’s attack.
Her chest tightened, making her breaths quick and shallow. Her hands, damp with sweat, shook in her lap, and her heart raced like it might burst. She stood, knowing what was coming next. She had pills for panic attacks in her purse, but she didn’t want to take one before getting on the stand. A panic attacked loomed, and she couldn’t stop it.
She took a few steps forward and bent over, sucking in air while placing her palms on her knees.
“The moment your prey becomes aware of you,” his dad continued, “you’ve lost your advantage. That’s why it’s vital to remain concealed until you’re ready to kill.”
A deep growl emitted from somewhere in the forest ahead. John jerked his head toward the sound just as a massive brown bear emerged from the trees. It sauntered through the woods less than one hundred feet away, heading toward the river.
His father slipped his rifle off his shoulder and held it out for John to take, pressing the butt against the front of John’s shoulder before he wrapped John’s hand beneath the base of the barrel.
“Line it up in your sights,” his father whispered in John’s ear.
John closed one eye as his father had taught him. His hand shook as he worked to keep the gun aimed on the moving bear’s back.
“Now, shoot.”
“What?” John lowered the gun to see his dad’s hard-set gaze.
“Shoot,” he repeated.
John’s brows knitted together. “But it’s not hunting season. You said—”
A guttural growl cut through the silent woods. John’s lungs seemed to harden as the bear cocked his head toward them. It snarled, exposing large, yellowed fangs.
His dad snatched the weapon from John’s hands and aimed it at the beast. The bear turned away and ran toward the river as the rifle’s deafening blast echoed through the silent forest. John’s ears rang as the huge animal dropped to the ground in a massive heap.
He turned to his dad, watching him lower the gun, then looked back at the lifeless brown mound of fur.
“It wasn’t going to hurt us,” John said. “It was running away.”
“The second key to hunting is never to hesitate. When you have the opportunity to kill, you take it.”
John studied the animal’s corpse.
“Let’s go. It’ll be dark soon.”
John tore his gaze from the bear and followed his dad, and for the first time on their trip, his thoughts returned to Sally.
Chapter 13
HOLLY
Holly’s leg jiggled as she sat beside Andy on the wooden bench outside the courtroom, waiting to be called. Thinking of Jared sitting inside the room behind them, pleading not guilty, made her stomach churn. She’d hoped it would be liberating to get out of her apartment and get this day over with, but now that she was here, under the same roof as her violent ex-fiancé, she felt overcome with the same fear that had ripped through her the last time she’d seen him.
“Ready?” Andy asked.
She smoothed the wrinkles on the front of her blouse that she’d donned at four in the morning after giving up on sleep. “No.”
She stopped herself from imagining what it would be like to be on the witness stand alone, pointing Jared out to the jury as the man who tried to kill her. If she did, she might throw up.
She longed for a cigarette, but she’d thrown them all out after she’d quit.Probably a good thing.Once she started again, she might never stop.Instead, she settled for a piece of gum from the opened pack inside her purse.
She’d started smoking in college but then had quit after Meg had been killed. Growing up, Meg had been disgusted by smoking, calling it a dirty habit. After her sister died, every cigarette felt like a betrayal somehow. Holly imagined Meg looking down on her from wherever she was, despising her smoking.
She squeezed her eyes shut, the image of Jared's face—pale, blood blooming across his stomach—flashing behind her eyelids. Then her own body sprawled on the floor, the acrid tang of blood in the air, the siren's wail slicing through the chaos. She'd woken to flashing lights, police officers looming, the pounding in her head a deafening roar. Jared lay on the floor nearby, bleeding out from the gunshot to his stomach.
After emergency surgery, Jared had made a full recovery before being arrested for her assault. According to her doctors, she’d made a full recovery too—until the panic attacks, nightmares, and insomnia set in. Now, two months later, she couldn’t fall asleep without taking a sleeping pill, but she still dreamed of Jared. She didn’t know which was worse: not sleeping or waking up in a cold sweat like she was reliving Jared’s attack.
Her chest tightened, making her breaths quick and shallow. Her hands, damp with sweat, shook in her lap, and her heart raced like it might burst. She stood, knowing what was coming next. She had pills for panic attacks in her purse, but she didn’t want to take one before getting on the stand. A panic attacked loomed, and she couldn’t stop it.
She took a few steps forward and bent over, sucking in air while placing her palms on her knees.
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