THE SOUND OF THE RIFLE SHOT CUT THROUGH THE AIR. WILL dropped to his belly, his fingers gripping the roots and dirt, the smell of the grass flooding his nostrils. It had been forty years since anyone had shot at him, and it had been in another country, in what had, at the time, seemed like another world altogether. But the feeling had not changed, nor had the spike of adrenaline that went coursing down every one of his veins.
Another shot fired but this time it was far overhead and he looked up but all he could see was the Junegrass and the tops of the pines farther on. He heard the clack of the bolt and then the dissonant sound of laughter and the talk of men. He came up on one elbow, turning to look back down into the field where the bear cub had paused, sniffing the air then standing on hind legs, looking his way.
The rifle sounded again and Will heard the cut of the bullet as it tore through the air and then he saw the puff of the dirt appear on the ground just to the side of the bear. He heard a man curse then he heard the clack of the bolt again and Will looked to the bear who now was smelling the place the bullet had struck, as if this were some new game Will had set up for him to play.
Will turned over again, he could not see the men up on the hill but he could hear them and he knew almost without any doubt that they were firing on the bear and they were trying to kill it. Will looked one last time to his cabin, but the sun had grown lower and the rays that flooded down were blinding.
He sat now, knowing in some way he was not the target and he took the rifle from his shoulder and pushed forward the safety then raised the scope to his eyes. The first shot he took sprayed rock and dirt up over the snout of the bear. And the bear, as if knowing Will had betrayed him, now turned to regard Will where he sat on the lowermost part of the hill. Will ejected the casing then loaded another. There were men talking now as they came down the hill, laughing and calling to each other and now calling to Will, but Will did not hear them, and he raised the rifle again, set the sight on the bear, putting crosshairs right over the ear before pulling the trigger. The bullet, as far as he could tell, buzzed right by the ear and set the bear to running.
Just as the bear came to the far belt of trees at the other edge of the meadow it paused and looked back. Will watched it through the scope. He watched the bear taste the air. He watched the eyes roam and settle on Will and the men that now approached from up on the hill. When the next rifle shot sounded, Will could not tell if the bullet had struck home. He saw only that the bear jumped and then, like it had never been there at all, it was gone, passed away from the visible world into the dark thicket of trees that lined the stream farther on.
Will turned and saw John Seed moving down through the grass, a rifle in his hand with a wood stock and bolt-action lever, the gray smoke that came from the barrel curving up and over his shoulder like some sort of serpent. His men, including Lonny, all followed behind. All of them carrying weapons and all spreading outward as they came on Will and now circled him where he sat in the grass, his own Remington rifle held close in his lap.
“You’re a man who likes to play at dangerous games,” John said as he came up. “I remember how you used to drink. I remember what state you were in when you came and asked us to help you. Are you still that man, Will?”
“No.”
“That’s good to hear, Will. That’s very good to hear. It looked for a moment there like you might have forgotten.”
“How did it look?”
“Like maybe you were trying to make friends with the set of fangs that might kill you one day.”
Will ran his eyes from John over to Lonny. When he looked back at John he asked if they had found the bear in the pit.
“That’s why we came here,” John said. “Lonny suggested it. He said you can track just about anything. That true?”
Will moved his eyes to Lonny again. “Since you all set me up at this place, I’ve hunted nearly everything that walks or crawls on four legs. What is it you’re looking for here?”
“We got us a bit of a situation and we’d like you to solve it. You think you could find someone for us?”
“Someone?”
“A girl has gone missing.”
“I’m not any kind of detective, if that’s what you’re asking.”
“I’m not asking you to be. I’m asking can you track her through these woods and bring her back in for us?”
“You’re asking me to hunt down a human being?”
John smiled. “I’m not really asking.”
II
Once I was lost in the wilderness and as I came to understand the wilderness, I too became wild, and out of this wilderness I was fostered anew, not just as a man, but as an animal, clothed in the blood of my kill, wild in the heart, and with a powerful hunger for all those who would trespass against me and the wilderness I now called my home.
WILL HALF SLID, HALF CLIMBED DOWN ALONG THE SLOPE, following the path of broken branches and flattened leaf matter. The truck was on its side another fifty feet down. He could only see the bottoms of the tires and the metal undercarriage where the drive shaft went straight through from the front of the truck to the back. He carried his pack and wore his hat. He also carried the rifle he used for hunting. It had sat between his legs as he’d come up the mountain, riding shotgun, listening to John tell him which way he’d thought the girl had gone and why.
“You understand we mean to help her?”
“That’s why you want to find her?” Will had asked.
“That’s why. We want to save her. We want to give her a new life, just like the one we gave to you.”
Will looked away out the side of the passenger window. He had his hands resting on the rifle, watching the trees and vegetation blurring past. A deer stood off to the side of the road and he watched it as they passed. He watched it all the way until he couldn’t see it anymore and the road had curved away behind them. Will’s eyes fell on a tarp in the bed of the truck. One corner coming loose.
“What’s back there?” Will asked.
John glanced across to see what Will had seen. “My oldest brother Jacob has been tracking wolves in the mountains nearby. It’s some of his equipment.”
Will tried to see what was there but the tarp would not stay still.
“The concept is pretty simple,” John said. “You hunt one and then tag it with the signal. Once you have one you let it go and then you use the tag to home in on it, and instead of having one, you now can find the whole pack. That’s why we need you out there tracking Mary May, Will. We need to bring her back. We need to help her see that she is part of something bigger. We need her to believe as you do, and as I do, that we can help everyone here in this county. Help them to see how strong they can truly be if they could only come together.”
“And that works?”
“You know better than I do, Will. You are a hunter. You know that the hunter always uses the best tool he has at hand.”
Will thought about what John had said. He slid the remaining fifty feet and came to a stop just before the front axle of the pickup. Above, moving down toward him with a little more caution, Lonny followed, using the thin branches of the currant thicket, that had slowed and must have somewhat cushioned the truck as it went off the road above.
From everything Will had seen thus far it didn’t seem at all like they were trying to save the girl. Though Will had seen the baptism and what they might be calling salvation these days.