Estimated reading time — 22 minutes

I want to say this happened in the early summer when our park was full of hikers, campers, and tourists. Montana had its beauty in those summer months, so I couldn’t blame them.
A lot of the tourists hadn’t spent a day camping or even been backpacking. A lot of them hopped out of their cars to take close-up pictures of bison, so you can imagine we had a fair share of people getting lost. Hell, most of the time when I was on tower duty for the summer, I had to guide lost hikers back to the trail instead of watching for wildfires.

I always pictured being a park ranger as a relaxing job, and that was the case in ’94, before everything happened. We didn’t think much of it at first. There seemed to be more cases of rabies, more wildlife we had to put down, which had us carrying our .38 with us whenever we went out, putting more rifles in our trucks. I used to complain about having that heavy wheel gun hanging from my hip. It was heavy and got in the way of a pack and made my hips chafe sometimes. I wasn’t really used to carrying around a gun; I had only shot one maybe a few times. I stopped complaining after what happened in June.

Then we had the first incident at the start of the tour season. I was lying in my cot at the station, fast asleep, when the phone rang. I grumbled as I sat up and grabbed the phone.
“Hello?” I asked in a groggy voice.

I recognized my supervisor’s voice on the other end of the line.

“Hey Ash, we got a call at one of the campgrounds—some kind of disturbance going on there.”

I brushed my bangs out of my face as I held the phone in the crook of my neck.
“What kind of disturbance?” I asked, furrowing my brow slightly.

I heard my supervisor sigh through the slight static.

“Some people making a huge ruckus after quiet hours. Sounded like some rowdy kids blaring Nirvana.”

I yawned and quickly covered my mouth with my free hand.

“Who else is going down there?” I asked as I kicked the blankets off my body.

“Hmm. I have Felix on the way over, so I just need you to go with him. They’re probably drunk, so don’t get yourself hurt.”

I chuckled softly and tapped my foot on the edge of the cot.

“All I’m gonna do is tell them to turn down the music in my fancy uniform, Jake.”

He snorted softly at this. “Yeah, sure, killer. Sorry about waking you up for this, but a lot of the overnighters are tied up on tower duty. The other seasonals haven’t really started pouring in yet.”

I let out a sigh. “Same old story then. I’ll call you after I deal with it. Won’t take long. You have a good night, right? Tell Lauren I said hi.”

“Thanks, Ash, you have a good night too.”

I hung up the phone and made my way to my locker. It didn’t take me long to change into my uniform. I slipped on my jacket and grabbed my duty belt. I left that stupid wide-brimmed hat and just opted to wear the baseball-cap version I brought last summer.

The station was pretty quiet this time, and I made sure to grab a jolt from the fridge before I headed out. I had a feeling tonight would be a long night of paperwork—probably would need a second one before dawn, knowing me. Not to mention the coffee at the station tasted like dirt.

I passed Mel at the front desk, wearing a Walkman, probably listening to whatever they constantly blared on MTV while flipping through the glossy pages of the newest issue of Seventeen. She looked at me and gave me a wave as I returned it on my way out the door.
The lot was pretty deserted compared to how it gets later in the season. There were only two patrol trucks, mine and Mel’s; besides everyone’s personal cars, of course. Jake really wasn’t kidding about being short-staffed.

There was no wind that night—I remember that distinctly more than anything else. There wasn’t a cloud in the sky. The moon hung low in the pitch-black night. The only sound I could hear in that quiet parking lot was a great-horned owl hooting in the distant treeline, as well as my set of keys jingling on my belt as I walked to my truck.

I cracked open the can of Jolt as I put my keys in the ignition and let my truck rumble to life. I pulled out of the lot onto the gravel road and began to drive. I turned on my radio and tuned into the nearest station; one of those late-night stations with a barely-awake DJ mumbling out song names. This happened to be playing eighties pop—could be worse, I suppose.

My headlights were my only source of light on those winding back-country roads. I was glad to be used to traversing the rough roads here. It wasn’t long before I reached the campgrounds. Despite being early in the season, the campgrounds were still pretty packed.

I pulled through the checkpoint, passing the worn-out volunteer stuck on gate duty. There weren’t many lights on at this time of night; the only lighting I could make out from the hazy windows of my truck was from the sparsely placed streetlights and the dim orange glow from dying campfires. I turned around a small bend in the road to see at least four cars crammed into a parking space meant for three. Several tents were set up in random spots around the campsite. Most of them didn’t even look like they were staked in properly.

Even from the road I could hear the music blaring from some boombox they had near the still-burning campfire. What already stuck out to me was that there wasn’t anyone out and about. Sure, it was late, but the fire was still going pretty strong. Someone had fed it within an hour or two. Had they just been so drunk they passed out in their tents?

There wasn’t long to debate what could have happened when I saw a pair of headlights approaching in my rearview mirror. I quickly recognized it to be one of our trucks. I put my own truck in park and killed the engine. I stepped out and gave a wave to Felix’s truck as I heard the sound of a car door opening and closing. I heard a softer-spoken voice.

“I thought you were gonna get some sleep tonight?”

I shrugged as I saw the tall form of Felix saunter into view in his faded uniform. “So did I, but here I am.”

“Jake’s doing, I’m guessing?” he asked as he rubbed his unshaven chin.

I sighed and nodded my head, and Felix gave me a sympathetic smile as he motioned for me to follow him. We both took out our flashlights and began to walk toward the campsite.
“I wouldn’t worry about it, Ashley. It’s only your second summer here after all.”

I nodded in agreement as I boot crunched a pine cone in half. “I know, but it feels like I’m left holding the bag sometimes.”

Felix scratched the back of his neck. “It might seem like that, but he’s doing this for a reason.”

I tilted my head slightly as I looked over at him. “He’s testing me,” I mused aloud. Felix snapped his calloused fingers and flashed a grin.

“See—you’re a smart girl. Think about it, how many out-of-towners flood this place with applications every summer?”

“A lot,” I responded as I pondered where he was going with this.

“Gotta weed out who can’t stick it out here.”

“Makes sense. I guess I am a long way from San Diego.”

He chuckled softly. “Miss the palm trees and beaches?”

“Nope. And don’t miss the traffic either.”

We both shared a soft chuckle as we entered the campsite, clearing our throats and putting our minds back to the task at hand. Felix called out in a professional, practiced voice that we were rangers with the park and needed them to turn down the music since it was past quiet hour.

We didn’t get a response. I shined my light around the campsite and noticed several camp chairs set up outside the radius of the fire’s glow. A few were knocked over, to no surprise. I saw some empty cans of Blue Ribbon and a few half-finished bottles of Jack Daniels. All classic choices for teens who didn’t understand what good booze was yet.

I took a few more steps into the campsite. The boombox was still blaring “Smells Like Teen Spirit” in the deserted campsite. I quickly picked up the scent of cigarettes from a still-lit cigarette resting in a crowded ashtray on a picnic table. Something wasn’t right here. Sure, they could be passed out asleep in their tents, but all these cars, all these tents, all these empty chairs—and not a single one is a snorer after a long night of drinking?

There was only silence in response to Felix’s announcement. We both exchanged looks even in the darkness of the unusual night; there was a hint of worry in the experienced ranger’s eyes. He quieted his voice and got a more focused glint in his eyes that I hadn’t seen before.
“Come on, let’s check the tents if anyone is in there.”

I nodded in agreement as I shined my light on the nearby tents. We both split off to check the tents for any occupants. I announced myself before zipping open a tent, expecting to find a drunken couple deep in the moment. But all I saw were empty sleeping bags, scattered magazines, and half-open duffel bags. Some had clothes scattered around on the tent floor—definitely kids my age. The only thing missing were the hammered frat guys sleeping away a night of boozing. I checked the other tents to find more or less the same.

Felix and I met back up near the campfire, both of us not finding the campers yet.

“It’s like they all just wandered off,” I said softly to him.

“They couldn’t have gone far; cars are still here.” He rubbed his chin thoughtfully as he shined his beam near the edge of the campsite. He seemed to focus on something I couldn’t see very well from the angle I was looking at it.

“Ash, come look at this,” he said as he walked over toward the edge of the campsite, shining the beam of his flashlight at something on the ground. I made my way over to his side.

“What is it?” I inquired as I squinted at what he was looking at.

“See some prints going into the woods—kinda looks like some drag marks too. There’s some wildlife tracks, too.”

“Drag marks?” I replied, furrowing my brow.

“Yeah… looks pretty fresh, too,” he added, a frown forming on his face.

“Think we should call Jake about this?”

Felix took in a deep breath as if in thought for a moment. “Not yet. I need to grab something from my truck—come on.”

I followed him to his truck; a sense of unease had begun to descend on me ever since we found the empty campsite. At this time I didn’t know why.

Felix opened the back door and dug through a large duffel. I almost asked what he was looking for—then he pulled it out. A strange rifle, loading it with a stripper clip of .308s.
It wasn’t like the long, sleek rifles in the glossy Cabela’s catalogs that came in the mail. This one was almost ugly. The wood was worn and unpolished, the barrel stubby but menacing, like it had come from another era. He racked the bolt with a sharp motion, then turned and looked back at me.

“What? It’s bear country, Ash.”

“Is that what you think happened? A grizzly snatched them?”

“I don’t know.” He sighed and rubbed his face with his free hand. “We do need to make sure they’re okay. I know if I called Jake he would just write it off or make us wait for hours till county gets here.”

“He would, so let’s give him something he can’t ignore.” He said as he put his flashlight back on his belt and replaced it with a headlamp.

We both set out to follow the drag marks. We didn’t say anything as we began to walk into the shadowy treeline.

Every couple of steps we called out if anyone was out there and if they were lost. Our voices reverberated across the pines. We shone our lights around our surroundings, looking for any signs of these drunk college kids. The night was still, soundless. Not even a single bird or bug could be heard. I couldn’t even feel any soft gusts of wind. I kept listening for the smallest sound, any kind of sign of someone lost out there.

I felt my stomach begin to swirl. We couldn’t even hear the music anymore—it was like the air itself was siphoning the sounds of the night away.

That’s when I finally saw it, hiding in a collection of vegetation. A pair of eyes staring back at me. I shined my light at it and my eyes widened. A young, teary-eyed woman stared back at me with blond hair like mine. She was kneeling down by a man that looked to be around the same age as her. A large, seeping gash was ripped across his leg. He didn’t seem to be conscious from the blood loss. One of the woman’s petite hands was tightly pressed against his wound; her other hand clutched his. Her face was deathly pale; I could see her whole body was shaking. She seemed to struggle to keep her breathing under control. Several times she kept opening and closing her mouth to say something to us, but her words refused to leave her mouth. She had several small cuts adorning her exposed arms. Her delicate face was cut up like she had been scratched by branches from a hasty escape. Who I assumed to be her boyfriend had similar cuts on his face.

I felt frozen in place as I put a hand to my mouth. I kept screaming at my legs to move but they wouldn’t; in fact, I couldn’t feel them at all. That girl’s face—desperate for anything, anyone that could escape this horrible place. I finally swallowed my fear and sprang into action—and so did Felix. I kneeled down beside the couple and set my bag down. I practically ripped it open to get my first-aid kit out.

Felix was faster than me; his hands were shaking less than mine. I yanked out some four-by-four gauze and started to press it into the wound as Felix started to get out some roller gauze and help me wrap the wound up. The girl still clutched his hand for dear life, never leaving his side.

I had to gently move her hand aside from the wound so I could help Felix bandage it up. She didn’t ever raise her voice or make much of a sound besides some almost-inaudible murmurs. Even though I couldn’t make out her exact words, I could tell she was praying.

“Ash, take care of him. I got him,” he said as he quickly took control of the situation. I took the woman’s bloodied hand into my own, not giving a shit about the blood right now. She turned her gaze to me, asking a silent question.

“We’ll take care of him, don’t worry,” I said in my best reassuring voice.

She quickly nodded and finally released her iron grip on her boyfriend’s hand. Felix quickly hefted the young man over his shoulder and nodded to me.

“Thank you…” the girl murmured to me as she held onto my hand tightly like it was her only escape.

“Come on, we need to go, okay?” I said gently to her as her green eyes flickered over to the trees deeper into the woods.

“But my friends are still out there!” she finally raised her voice to my surprise. Felix noticed my hesitation and answered for me.

“Look, miss, we need to get him to a hospital or he won’t make it. We’re gonna call for more rangers to find your friends, alright?”

This seemed to satisfy her well enough and she nodded a few times and sniffed.

“Right, I’m sorry—I just—”

“It’s alright, you don’t need to apologize. Let’s get you out of here.” I added as Felix started to jog back with the wounded man still over his shoulder. I led the terrified girl through the darkness by her trembling hand, flashlight in my other. I could hear Felix’s heavy footsteps crunching pine needles ahead of me.

“Are they gonna be okay?” she asked anxiously, her eyes darting all around.

“They’ll be okay,” I replied, not believing my own word. Even though I was definitely not alone, I felt something else—I didn’t even know how to describe it.

I felt the hairs on the back of my neck stand on end. I could feel eyes bearing their gaze upon me, but I couldn’t tell from where. I quickened my pace slightly, tugging on the girl’s arm to get her to move a bit faster.

“What’s your name?” I asked her, trying to take my mind off this sensation.

She hesitated for a few moments before finally speaking up.
“Jessica.” She tried to add a smile, but her nerves failed her.

“I’m Ash; the big guy who grabbed your boyfriend is Felix,” I said, looking over my shoulder at her with a soft smile. She slowly returned the smile with some hesitation.

I could tell we were getting close to the campsite by the sounds of grunge rock echoing through the shadowy trees.

We finally reached the dim glow of the campfire. I could see Felix by his truck with the young man laid out on the truck bed with the hastily made bandage now wrapped in Coban.
Felix stood close by, one hand resting on the edge of the truck bed, the other holding the receiver of an old Motorola bag phone. The bulky nylon case sat beside him, the coiled cord stretched just far enough to let him pace a little. I assumed he was calling Jake—or someone from the emergency line—but I couldn’t tell. His voice was low, tight. Whatever he was saying wasn’t for me.

Jess broke away from my grip and ran over to her boyfriend’s side. Even though he was still unresponsive, I could see his chest rising and falling, the slight vibrations in his chest from his still-beating heart.

As Felix was busy, I walked over to the boombox and finally shut it off. I turned back and made my way over to Jess’s side as she tapped her fingers on her boyfriend’s open palm. I finally asked the question that had been circling like a vulture on my mind this entire time.

“What exactly happened out there?”

I asked as I rested my arms on the top side of the truck bed. Jessica’s eyes averted mine as she stared at the ground.

“I don’t know…where to even start,” she said as she rubbed her face. I quietly waited for her to continue as I pressed a hand to her shoulder.

“One second we were drinking, having fun…then it was just—”

She paused as she wiped her eyes, taking a moment to compose herself.

“The music was so loud but I could still hear Eric screaming when it grabbed him.”

“Something grabbed him? An animal? A person?”

“I don’t know, I never got a good look at it. It started to drag him into the woods and…my legs just started moving on their own. I don’t know what came over me.”

I took a notepad out and started scribbling some notes as she spoke. It helped keep my shaking hands busy.

“What about your friends? Did they do the same?”

She gave me a short nod.

“They did, but I was first. I saw so much red. I grabbed the pocket knife he gave me for my sixteenth. I just stabbed it…again and again. It made such awful sounds—”

“Did…you kill it?” I asked with a raised eyebrow, and she gave me a slight shrug.

“I don’t know, but it let him go and everyone just scattered. I panicked—we all did. I didn’t know what to do besides hide and hope it didn’t find us again. It sounded like it was screaming like a person when I stabbed it.”

I stopped writing and looked up at her, truly at a loss about what she was describing. None of it made any sense to me. My only guess was a mountain lion or some psycho. Both sounded far-fetched the more I thought about it. Mountain lions prefer easy prey—people alone, isolated—not a packed campsite full of noise, even if they were starving.

Perhaps it was a person? Some kind of deranged psycho living in the woods, targeting clueless campers? Sounded like the plot of some shitty slasher—one with a masked serial killer. Then again, he would be a pretty bad one if all it took to stop him was a half-sober, petrified sorority girl with a pocket knife that probably hadn’t been used for anything besides cutting nails and whittling out of boredom.

A silence fell on us as we quietly waited for our backup. Felix stood closest to the wood’s edge with his rifle propped up on his truck. Every couple of minutes, he would turn on his headlamp and scan the treeline; he never saw anything. I draped a blanket around Jess—she wouldn’t stop shivering. Even as the minutes drew by, what felt like hours, my hands wouldn’t stop shaking, but I didn’t know why. The woods still didn’t make a sound even as I felt a gentle breeze brush upon my face.

Finally, we all heard the sound of approaching sirens in the distance. All three of us peeked our heads up. Our backup was here after what felt like an eternity. I first noticed the red flashing lights from a county ambulance with peeling paint, followed by a couple of our trucks—not the dull flashing amber lights like I had on my truck, just like your run-of-the-mill city cop, they had red and blue lights flashing brightly against the cedars and pines. At the back of this convoy was a single black-and-white county patrol car; I was honestly surprised they bothered to send one out here—must have been a slow night.

They quickly pulled into the turnoff for one of the empty campsites and killed the wailing of their sirens. The rangers stepped out first. They didn’t dress like us. Felix and I wore cargo shorts, faded T-shirts, tired polos with cheap name tags pinned on, and dusty hiking boots. These rangers wore tan collared shirts and dark green cargo pants, black Danners. I noticed quickly some wore those detestable wide-brimmed hats but a lot of them only wore baseball caps. Each of them wore a high-vis vest stamped with “LAW ENFORCEMENT” in large bold letters. They slung scoped game rifles or semi-auto shotguns—likely loaded with bear slugs—over their shoulders. A few of them carried bulkier, heavy-duty tranquilizer rifles with longer scopes. I noticed clunky handheld radios dangled from their belts. No doubt these were the usual guys they called in when the wildlife got bold. They didn’t say anything to us but Felix said we could help look for the missing campers.

These weren’t the rangers that smiled and waved from behind desks at the visitor centers or handed out trail maps at junctions. These were the guys you called to track and kill a thousand-pound grizzly that mauled a camper. These were the guys who carried bodies out of ravines. They worked in places where the nearest backup was hours away.

Small crowds began to gather, drawn by the lights and sirens screaming in well after quiet hours. Barefoot kids peeked out from dome-shaped Power Rangers tents, Game Boys in hand. The soft, sickly golden glow from their wormlights illuminated quietly worried faces. Flannel-clad dads sat in folding chairs outside their RVs, Miller High Lifes still cold from the cooler, trading guesses about why all the uniforms were out here. Mothers in hoodies gently tried to herd their kids back to bed. The flashing lights painted the pines in red and blue long after the sirens had gone quiet.

I looked over at the ambulance as two guys in plain navy-cargo pants and windbreakers carted away Eric on a stretcher with Jess hovering close by. One of the newly arrived rangers handed us some handheld radios and muttered something about not chasing after grizzly bears. They turned on dark green angle lights clipped to their vests and split into pairs as they carefully entered the treeline, their rifles held low. Our radios crackled with their chatter.

“Station, this is Ranger 8. We’re gonna need SAR volunteers rounded up to cover this much ground—over.”

“Copy that, we’ll assemble a search party. Standby.”

“10-4.”

I turned down the volume on my radio as Felix and I ended up being paired off together. I noticed the deputy they dragged along with them was talking to another guy not in any kind of uniform—button-up shirt and slacks with a badge clipped to his belt. A sidearm was concealed in a leather shoulder holster. I assumed he was some kind of detective. Not sure what he was gonna investigate in this neck of the woods.

I was sure this was just another rabid animal to be put down, just like the other reports. Felix still took the lead, the rifle hanging over his chest. I was glad to be paired up with him—from the way he was able to follow those tracks from before. All those hunting trips he had been taking with his son had finally paid off. I was a little bit jealous after the fact I never figured out why.

As we were walking under the shadowy arms of the spruces, flashlights in hand, I first smelled it—something that struck out from the usual scents of the forests of Montana. There was hardly even wind to carry it, so it took a second for me to register what I was smelling. Honestly, it was pretty repulsive when it finally hit me. I caught a whiff of what smelled like ammonia, like someone had been pouring jugs of bleach out in the middle of the woods.

I looked down to see if it had been something I had stepped on. I furrowed my brow as the dull golden beam of my flashlight reflected the sight of clotted droplets of blood clinging to pine needles and fallen leaves. The droplets continued down the makeshift game trail. Neither of us said a word to each other. Felix muttered a short transmission into the radio. He turned to me and we just exchanged a nod and kept going.

The smell only got stronger as we kept walking. The blood started to get more visible—going from sparse drops to scattered puddles. Felix started walking slower, taking more deliberate steps now, heel to toe, muffling the stomping of his boots crunching pine needles.
We finally reached the end of the blood trail. The smell was almost unbearable now; I felt lightheaded from the overwhelming stench.

We both stopped in our tracks at what we heard. From the sounds I could hear it making—how it wheezed—I could tell it was struggling to stay alive. It emitted a series of harsh gasps and sputters. I felt like I was about to throw up from even being near it. I squinted my eyes as I finally could make out where the sounds were coming from. A shadowy shape lay on its side staring at us from under a birch. Even though I couldn’t see its eyes I could feel them bearing their weight down on my skull.

I swallowed my nausea and fear and finally shined my flashlight on it. Our eyes widened at what we saw. I wanted to run away from this thing and never think about it, bury it out of mind, but my primal focus seemed to take hold.

I would have thought it was an elk if I had just glanced at it for a split second. But it wasn’t one—at least not anymore. It used to be a bull, still had those velvety furred antlers from an early summer. Its eyes were what struck me the most. They were clouded, colorless, like a corpse. I couldn’t even tell if they had pupils anymore. Its eyes kept twitching almost like they were loose in their sockets, about to pop out at any moment.

It was still laid out on its side. Its head raised to continue to gaze at us. Some of its fur was matted with blood; it looked like its own blood. Its jaws were entirely misshapen. I was about to wonder why when I got my answer. It opened its gaping maw—it had too many teeth. Rows and rows of newly grown incisors were tightly crammed into its original set of teeth, like a shark’s. Its newly grown teeth were coated in fresh blood. The sounds it made were like it was gurgling and choking on its blood. That’s when I finally noticed where Jess made her mark: sticking out from between its collarbone and shoulder was the hilt of a buck knife, blood still seeping from the fresh wound.

I shined my light down to its legs as it began to move. All four of its legs were bent and twisted into horrible angles; its length extended beyond the realm of possibility. Bones jutted out like spikes from its horribly mangled limbs. Despite the fact that it shouldn’t have been able to stand, let alone move at all, it still did.

Even with the distance between me and that thing, I still heard its legs crack and crunch as limbs began to snap and break in new ways with each passing moment. It should have been screaming, howling in agony, but it didn’t make a sound. It only let out soft retching and a sound of gagging. I felt bile begin to travel up my throat with every bone it snapped further into impossible angles.

Felix still had the rifle. “C-cover your ears,” he commanded with a slight wavering in his voice.

I didn’t question it or hesitate to do as he said.

I could tell Felix was trying to put on a brave face around me—not because he wanted to look macho or impress me or anything. He knew I would panic if a veteran ranger like him lost his cool. I could still hear it in his voice, the slight hesitation in his words. His normally tanned face was as pale as that thing’s eyes.

It was in the process of walking forward when I finally heard the deafening roar from Felix’s rifle. It didn’t seem to register that it had been shot. A gaping hole was now barreled in between its eyes—Felix wasn’t bullshitting about those hunting stories after all. Blood began to bleed from its new wound. It sat on its haunches and flexed its jaw a few times as it rocked its head up and down. It crumpled over to the side and began kicking its back legs wildly; after less than thirty seconds it let out a few more twitches before falling motionless entirely. A puddle of blood began to form under its slaw jawed face. Our radios started to squawk with questions on who fired that shot.

We both let out a collected breath that we had been holding this entire time. I heard the sound of Felix charging the bolt and ejecting the still-smoking brass from the chamber.
The scent of ammonia began to fade away as the scent of carbon and gunpowder filled my nostrils. I didn’t say anything, but with trembling hands he grabbed his radio and spoke into it.

“All stations… one round fired. Aggressive wildlife is down. Situation is… under control.”

There was a long silence on the air, and Felix spoke again, “Bring gloves.”

“10-4.”

I reached into my pack and got something I didn’t think I would be using at this moment but felt compelled to do. I grabbed my Polaroid camera.

It was a gift from Mom two summers ago before I left. I promised her I would take pictures of the park for her. I hung up pictures of hot springs in my locker—the breathtaking views of the snow-covered mountains and extinct volcanos from the balcony of a lonely firetower. I sent them back to Cali in half-crumpled envelopes. I never thought I would take a picture like… this.

The camera’s flash filled my vision as my camera spit out a newly printed Polaroid. I began to shake the photo as it developed. A small comfort was brought from doing such a mundane and familiar task. I expected Felix to say some cheesy one-liner from a trashy action movie to cut the tension, but he never did.

I looked over at him—the rifle now slung over his shoulder. He clutched it tightly, his fingers trembling, knuckles snow-white. I could hear his soft, unsteady breathing.

I reached out, quietly, and rested my hand on his arm.

He flinched at first, his head twitching toward me on instinct.

I didn’t pull away. Instead, I tightened my grip just a little.

He closed his eyes. Breathed in. Breathed out.

Then he nodded. “I’m fine, I just—” he softly murmured, not finishing his sentence.

I gently caressed his forearm with my fingertips before pulling my hand back. My fingers were still shaking.

The sound of dry leaves crunching approached us as the beams of two flashlights drew near.
We looked over to see two law-enforcement rangers walking quietly up to the body of the thing.

I expected them to say something as they shined their beams over what lay there, but they didn’t. One of them nodded at Felix, who still held the rifle, the barrel smoking ever so slightly.

The taller ranger set his bag down and pulled a bright-yellow Kodak from a smaller compartment inside a Ziploc bag.

He raised the camera and took a quick photo with a soft snap as the flash lit up the carcass. He stepped closer, focusing the lens on the hilt of the knife. Then he stowed the camera in his cargo pocket and scribbled down the frame number and a short note in a small notebook before giving a nod to the second ranger.

The second ranger unfolded a black tarp from his pack and draped it over the misshapen elk. He cracked a blue chemlight and taped it to the tarp with a strip of surveyor’s tape. One of them reached for his shoulder mic and spoke into it.

“Station, this is Ranger Three. We got a DB flagged with a blue chemlight. Northwest—eight hundred meters into the treeline, over.”

“Copy. DB marked with a blue chemlight. Southwest—eight hundred meters in, out.”

Neither Felix nor I said a word. I expected them to lose their composure, to stammer out some half-witted explanation of what we were looking at. But they didn’t. I could have sworn I heard one of them mutter another one under their breath.

This wasn’t their first time.

One of them finally looked over at us. “You two, head back. Jake’s waiting for you by the trucks.”

Felix nodded quietly. I didn’t move. He started to walk away but quickly noticed I wasn’t following—I was still staring at that tarp, the misshapen cloven hooves just barely visible from the edges. Felix put a hand on my back and gently urged me forward.

“C’mon, Ash…” he said quietly. I silently nodded and followed him back toward the trucks.
We didn’t say anything to each other during the walk back, but Felix was walking a bit slower than before. He kept the rifle close, holding it tightly. As we walked, he would shine his light in the trees as we passed them, but we never saw anything.

The flashing lights guided us through the quiet forest. It didn’t take long for us to get back to the campsite and all those emergency vehicles; the crowd was still there now, a few more strong after the gunshot they probably heard.

Among the lines of emergency was the shape of my supervisor—Jake was leaning up against his truck, reds and blues painting his face as he took a long drag from a lit cigarette while he spoke to what I assumed to be some kind of detective or government official from earlier. The ambulance had already left with the couple.

The two of them stopped their conversation as we approached them. The well-dressed man looked over at me and gave me a professional but warm smile. I’ll admit—he was a lot better-looking than most cops I’d seen. He was clean-cut, sharp as a razor, maybe a little older than what I usually go for. He honestly looked like he could have made it as an actor out in Hollywood if he tried.

“Ashley, I presume?” he said with practiced politeness. I nodded as he continued speaking.
“I know you’ve both had a long night so I won’t take up your time.”

He reached into his pocket and handed us two laminated cards.

“Here’s my card—if you want to talk about what happened after some rest, feel free to give me a call.”

I looked down at it and squinted slightly at the neatly printed text: “Detective Reid Callahan, Yellowstone County Sheriff’s Office,” followed by his badge number, phone number, office address, and fax number.

“Sure,” I said, nodding a little as I pocketed the card, feeling the need for sleep gnawing at my brain. Jake glanced over at me, noticing just how worn out I looked.

“Both of you did amazing work finding those two tonight. We’ll handle the rest. You two can take off and have the next few days off.”

We thanked him, and he tossed a pack of Marlboro Reds each. I didn’t smoke.

Felix and I silently shambled back to our trucks. Before he climbed into the driver’s seat, I wordlessly pushed the pack of smokes into his hand while trying to manage a smile, but it probably looked pretty pathetic. I could only stare as the flashing lights filled my vision and I wondered… why, just why did this have to happen to me? Why did this happen to us?

Credit: FAC

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