Page 11

I had only been walking a short while when the first gunshot cracked through the morning air.

My blood turned to ice. The sound came from the west, followed immediately by the triumphant baying of hunting dogs. They had found him.

Without thinking, I turned and raced back toward the sound.

A second shot echoed through the forest, and my heart nearly stopped.

I crashed through the underbrush, following the sounds of men yelling and barking dogs.

Branches caught at my clothes and scratched my face, but I barely noticed.

All that mattered was reaching Heath before it was too late.

The voices grew louder as I approached, and I forced myself to slow down. Getting caught would help no one. I crept forward through the dense undergrowth until I could see flashes of movement ahead. The two men with rifles, the dogs circling them excitedly.

"It went over the edge," Fletcher's voice carried clearly through the trees.

"Good," came the stranger's reply. "That's a fifty-foot drop onto rocks. Nothing survives that fall."

I pressed myself against a massive oak tree, my hands shaking as I peered around the trunk. Through the trees, I could see the two hunters standing at the edge of what looked like a steep ravine. Their dogs sniffed eagerly at the ground, whining with frustration.

"Should we go down and look for the body?" Fletcher asked.

The other man shook his head. "Not worth the risk. If the fall did not kill it, the blood loss will. Look at all that." He gestured toward dark stains on the rocks at the ravine's edge.

My stomach lurched. Heath's blood. He could be lying down there right now, dying, while these men stood around congratulating themselves.

"Besides," the stranger continued, "I've got to get back to my own farm. Job's done. The Beast of Dean won't be troubling anyone anymore."

I watched as the stranger called his dogs to heel and the two men began walking away, their voices growing fainter with distance. Fletcher's harsh laugh echoed through the trees as they discussed their successful hunt, as if Heath were nothing more than a dangerous animal they had put down.

I waited, every muscle tense until I could no longer hear their voices. Then I waited longer, counting the minutes to be certain they were gone. The forest around me seemed unnaturally quiet as if even the other animals understood something terrible had happened.

Finally, when I was sure the hunters had truly left, I crept forward to the ravine's edge.

I did not pause to think before I carefully crept over the edge.

The descent was steep. I had to move slowly, testing each handhold and foothold before trusting my weight to it.

My clothes caught on every sharp rock, and twice I nearly lost my grip.

By the time I reached the bottom, my hands were scraped raw and my pants were torn in several places.

The ravine floor was a jumble of boulders and fallen logs, made even more treacherous by the slick moss covering everything. I scrambled over the rocks, following the dark stains that led toward the stream, my heart stuttering with each splash of blood I found.

Then I saw him.

Heath lay wedged between two large boulders near the water's edge, so still that for one horrible moment, I thought— No. I threw myself down the remaining rocks, not caring when my knees hit stone.

"No, no, no," I breathed, dropping beside him.

Dark blood had soaked through the leather of his vest, the metallic smell making my stomach lurch.

The thick fur on his left side was matted and sticky where the bullet had torn through flesh, and more blood streaked from a gash on his forehead.

His massive chest barely moved, his breathing a shallow rattle.

"Heath!" I pressed my hands to his chest, feeling for his heartbeat. There. Slow and weak, but there. "Heath, please, can you hear me?"

Nothing. His face was slack, lifeless. I looked around frantically. He was so big, so heavy. How could I possibly…? But I had to try something. I could not just watch him die.

The cottage. I had to get him back to his cottage where I could properly tend to him. But Heath was several times my size, far too large for me to move alone.

"Heath, please," I said more loudly, touching his face with trembling fingers. "You have to wake up. I can't do this without you."

His eyelids fluttered but did not open. I tried again, gently shaking his massive shoulder.

"The hunters are gone," I told him urgently. "You're safe now, but you're hurt badly. I need you to help me get you home."

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