by Ken Jolly
Hazel looked distressed, “OH my. Who's missing?"
"I understand it’s an Englishman. His name is Henry Slocomb."
"He was in my store a few days ago. Nice man," Hazel remembered. "We have never lost anyone. I'm sure they can find him. Its rough country out there but all trails lead to town."
The searchers including Two Fish mounted up and the snow machines and could be heard heading up the trail.
A half hour later, they heard Gus's plane fly low over the lodge several times, as he made sweeps of the area until he had to fly back to Juneau.
For a while, there was conjecture about the missing man and some wanted to go looking for him.
"Guys, Herb is right. We would be more of a liability than a help."
Boredom swept in. Two of the hunters broke out a checkerboard and others settled into the long running poker game. The world over, a hunting camp always has a poker game going on. Some wives thought this was only an excuse for their husbands took to get away, drink, and play poker.
The sky lightened, yet there was still no word from the searchers. Hazel stayed and made small talk with Jake and Jonah.
"To bad they have to miss the hunt,” Jake sympathized.
Hazel stood up. "I might be able to do something about that." She raised her voice. "Listen up! Who wants to go hunting?"
Sam looked up. "All of the guides are gone and they hinted pretty strongly that we should stay in town."
"Suppose I told you some of the best hunting is in town?"
"Lady you might make my day. Are you telling me you can put us on game here in town?"
"Well it's not rightly in town but it’s just outside of town. No fancy blinds but there should be something to shoot. Everyone local knows one of the best places to hunt is the town dump. The guides keep it a secret just because they want to make it look like they are earning their keep."
"The dump?"
"Food is hard to find out here and every animal that scavenges can be found at the dump." Hazel asked," Who's in?"
"Beats sitting around wasting a day." Sam stood up. "I'm for it."
Jonah looked over at Jake who had lifted his head in interest, "We don't have any guns with us but it might be interesting. Care if we tag along?"
Horace joined, "I'm in also. I should observe the specific mammal population that has added the dump as a foraging opportunity. You, know, an alternate food source created by the influence of man upon nature. It would be some interesting data."
Three others wanted in. It was better than sitting around bored. At least it was something to do.
Hazel suggested, "We leave in thirty minutes, get kitted up. Dress warm."
The dump looked much as Jake had expected. No matter where humans lived, they produce garbage and it had to go somewhere. Whether it was a Stone Age society heaping up oyster shells or a modern city there are always discards. In this instance, it was a miscellaneous heap of everything covered by pristine white snowdrifts.
"If it wasn't cold and covered in snow, I bet this place would really stink," Jake sniffed.
Hazel pointed to the left. "We have to be careful of crossfire so you don't hit each other. Stake out areas facing away from the village." She grinned. “We don't want stray shots going downtown." Then she looked serious, “You also don't want to be breaking the plate glass window at my store. It was imported from Fairbanks" She then frowned to let them know how seriously she took safety. "It could cost you."
The eight of them spread out from each other to find cover or at least get out of the wind. Hazel, Jake, Jonah and Horace hunkered down with Sam behind a dead fall of branches created by a fallen tree.
Horace asked, “Sam, why did you bring that pea shooter?"
"I figured we would be plinking. Didn't seem like anything serious would be at the dump. Bears are denned up so maybe chipmunks, squirrels, or rabbits."
Horace saw this as a good time to lecture," You know after the dinosaurs became extinct, there was nothing left but small mammals, rodents and the like. Life always starts over. What do you think might evolve" he pointed at the dump "here in a million years?"
"Don't rightly know but I'm not planning on living that long so they will be welcome to it," Sam concluded.
"Hazel, you dragged us out here, what do you think might be feeding out there?"
"Guys this may be dumb however it is still the wilderness. Anything hungry with a sense of smell might be attracted. Keep your eyes open," Hazel cautioned them.
As she finished this statement, a howl to the left of them bayed, and then others answered from more directions.
Horace asked with a shiver running down his back that wasn't caused by the cold, "What was that?
"Haven't you ever heard wolves before?” Hazel asked.
"Sounds like we are surrounded!"
"Don't worry. If you hear them they know precisely where you are, but you will never see one. They fear man. They hunt in packs of five to seven and they use those howls to direct their pack to game."
"Are they hunting us?"
"No silly. They are just letting us know we are encroaching on their territory and trying to warn us off."
"Sounds primeval."
"It's just nature.” Another howl rent the air. “I guarantee if you see one, there are others in hiding. When you see one you can count on the others being close."
Sam turned to brace his rifle on the fallen log, Horace opened a small notebook where he was scratching some hieroglyphic marks, and as the short afternoon waned Hazel took a nap.
Jonah gestured towards where Hazel was sleeping, while addressing Horace, "I expect she can sleep through anything. You don’t think her snoring will scare anything away?" He turned back to scanning his area of the dump.
The sharp rolling sound of the rifle startled us. Horace looked up and Hazel suddenly sat up.
"Got it," Sam gloated."
"What?"
"A rabbit. It was just on top of the rise. Tough shot. I've been watching it for at least fifteen minutes waiting to get a good shot. A good clean kill.
He rose to his feet switching on the gun’s safety and propped it against the tree trunk. “Guess I had better go get it. Sure could use a retriever."
Sam walked around the snow covered tree roots, waved at the other hunters for attention so they wouldn't shoot and broke a trail through the deep snow towards his rabbit. He fell in over waist deep in the unmarred drift.
Robert, one of the hunters, called after him, “Kind of a lot of trouble for a scrawny piece of meat!"
Sam yelled back. "At least I'm not going hungry tonight!" and bent over to pull the rabbit off the hill.
He enjoyed hunting and knew cellophane wrapped meat packages in the store came from real animals. Just as he was extracting the body from the bush it was entangled in, he stopped in mid action at the deep-throated sound of a snarl.
Sam raised his head to see a huge silver gray wolf separate from a nearby drift. It had been almost invisible in the snow until it moved. It lunged forward, head down and spread its front legs as it readied to spring.
Horace back in the bush yelled, "Oh my god!"
"Easy boy. If you want the bunny that much it’s yours." Sam tossed the rabbit in the direction of the wolf and almost hit it on the nose.
The wolf snapped up the carcass and in a darting turn dashed into the mounds of the dump.
Sam turned to face the watching hunters and spread his arms in a shrug. "I guess he was hungrier than I was." He shuffled back to where the other hunters waited.
Robert complained," I could have taken the shot but you were in the way."
Sam looked back at the dump his face serious and turned to Hazel. "You said if you see one there's usually more."
Robert stood up to dust off the snow. "I thought they were scared of humans?"
Horace interrupted. “Wolves generally are. From the glance I had it did not look like a regular wolf!"
"Looked like a wolf to me. It growled a
nd had four legs."
"Did you notice the size? It was at least a foot taller and maybe fifty pounds heavier than an average wolf." Horace had everyone’s attention now. "It's impossible, but did you notice the shorter front legs?"
"Does that make a difference,” Sam asked.
"I must be wrong. No one has seen anything but skeletons of these in over ten thousand years; however if I'm right it was a Dire Wolf." Horace paused, “Or a new evolution similar to them.”
Sam who had seen the beast closer than anyone added,” I don’t know if it was scared of me, but I was sure scared. I guess if they get hungry enough they are not near as afraid." He looked back at the dump remembering the other howls and the size of the wolf. "I think I'm ready to go back to the lodge. Anyone coming?"
They all agreed. This encounter had spoiled the fun. The oncoming shadows were getting spooky.
Dire Wolf Antiquity
Jonah hurried to catch up with Horace once they were back at the lodge. "Were you serious about Dire Wolves?"
Horace paused, “It couldn't be, according to the fossil record they went extinct almost ten thousand years ago. I'm sure a DNA test would prove it's no relation."
"What were Dire Wolves? Were they dangerous?"
Horace considered. "They were a little bigger than today's Grey Wolves. We believe they massed up to a hundred and seventy five pounds and its jaws had maybe a hundred and twenty-five percent more bite pressure with dramatically larger teeth."
Jonah interrupted again as Jake joined them, "So the wolf we saw today might qualify?"
"I doubt it. If anything it might be a de-evolution to another wolf type however there were similarities. The reason the Dire wolf had a bad reputation is they were very social and hunted in extremely large organized packs. Where today's wolves hunt in family packs of six to seven members we estimate the Dire Wolf hunted in super packs of fifty or maybe seventy members. They went extinct when they stripped their range and ran out of prey. At one time they were the deadliest predator in Europe and the American northwest."
"Sounds a little like what the hunters have been reporting. For what has been a major hunting area, game seems to be disappearing," Jonah said.
"There's one theory they were responsible for the extinction of the Saber Tooth Cat. The cats were solitary hunters and while extremely strong the size of the Dire Packs overwhelmed them."
"How could such a large pack support itself?"
"Back then there was what we call Megafaunas. Many large mammals such as Mastodons and Buffalo. Plus they could herd other animals into traps."
"Then you are sure it wasn't one of these extinct wolves?"
"There is no way it could be a Dire, however it sure looked the part.
Jake frowned, "I wouldn't want to run into that fellow in a dark alley much less his family. I just have a hard time accepting this as an extinct wolf." His jaw clinched," They haven't been hiding for 10,000 years."
Horace added, "If most of the game is cleaned out then they may start looking at us as part of their food chain.
Jonah joined in," It was the largest wolf I ever saw! If it wasn't prehistoric, it was certainly scary. I feel like going back to my cabin and getting a long gun and some ammo. Jake, you want to come along and see where I'm living?"
"Think you can find a rifle for me?"
Jonah grinned,” I suspect I might have something in my armory. We will go in the morning."
"Armory?" Jake teased.
"You know how I feel about guns. You should have a good selection to pick from."
The Cabin
Jake seemed nervous on the way to my cabin. It might have been the giant yawning chasms with their treacherously steep drop offs falling into the valley far below the narrow trail. Anyhow, he had grown quiet or maybe he was just tired of shouting over the snow machine’s roar.
At the cabin, I sent him in out of the driving snow while I covered the machine with my tarp. Wish I could afford a shed for it, however if Jake was right I might be leaving for the lower forty-eight soon.
Inside I found Jake sprawled in my old chair reading a gun magazine. "Not much of a woman's touch around here?"
I frowned at his lack of awareness of the situation up above the Arctic Circle. "Not many women around Laurel, and the few that are here are married with husbands that also own big guns, or too young. Living up here is rather rough on women. They tend to move to warmer climes or age fast."
"Jonah, you forget I have known you for a long time. I can't believe you got yourself stuck in a place like this!"
I sighed, "Quite a few years ago I was in Taiwan. It was winter and the weather was warm enough that I was walking around in short sleeve shirts. Many locals dressed in heavy coats asked me why I wasn't cold. Certain ethnicities are more sensitive to the cold. Especially when they live in hot climates without real winters, they don't take well to cold weather. You might notice, not many Arabs around this country. I figured I was safer up here."
Jake shrugged my comment off. "I notice a reloading bench in the back?"
"Living this far out, and liking to shoot as much as I do, it only makes sense to reload. Besides, it's a good hobby. We don't have television. Helps to occupy the time." I pulled a curtain covering a closet aside.
He whistled at the tubs of ammo.
"I have .223, 7.56, .308, .338, plus common pistol calibers like .45, .357 and 9mm stocked."
Jake came over and looked in the closet. "You have been a busy boy."
"The re-loading keep my arsenal fed."
"Where are the guns?" He licked his lips.
I led him to what once had been the back bedroom and undid three locks on the door. "Not quite a gun safe but its big enough."
Jake was impressed, “Wow, look at that. Are you running a gun store out of your cabin?"
"No, it's just my collection. I swung by the family ranch in Texas when I settled here and picked them up from storage."
"Does ATF know about this?" Jake kidded.
I shrugged, “They know about some, not all. A lot of these are older than their regulations and would now be grandfathered.” I hesitated,” Others, they sleep better not knowing about."
"What do you have for me?" He greedily eyed the hardware hung on the walls.
"Take your pick. As you saw I have more than enough ammo to feed anything in here."
He toured the room twice before selecting a .308 FAL and lifted it off the pegs. "How about this?"
"Good selection. Has a kick and not the easiest thing to shoot but you shouldn't have any trouble. I've seen you shoot worst. Tomorrow when it gets light we will go out back and you can check that it’s sighted in to your taste."
Jake looked around the room at the collection. “You remember Obama?”
“Yeah”
Jake grinned, “It might not have been his intention, but with all of his attempts at gun control reformation he may have been the greatest gun salesman of this century.”
He hefted it to the shoulder. "I think this might stop a wolf."
"Wolves," I corrected him. "I have a few twenty round magazines for it. Wouldn't want you to feel limited. Do you need a handgun?"
"You don't think I would be traveling without old Betsy, do you." He pulled back his coat to display the Colt .45 that had always been his favorite.
I stirred up a pot of stew and after dinner with a few drinks of Meyer's Rum, the conversation became more serious.
"You never told me you could cook. That was really good!
"How do you think I've been earning my living? Back before I became the lean mean mercenary, you know, I worked in my family’s restaurant."
Jake pushed back from the table and looked me in the eyes. "How's the PSTD thing going?"
I tried to answer him as honestly as I could. He had been there and saw the worst of when I had chickened out. "You knew I was messed up pretty bad."
"It was only natural. We saw and did things no one should have to."
"
Well I haven't had to shoot anyone since I stopped those assassins last spring and a lot of the nightmares are fading." I rubbed the scars that had become my habitual gesture when reminded of the scarring.
Jake put his glass on the table. "How's the drinking?"
"You know about the drinking," I asked?
"I have my sources."
"It was a little rough for a while and the alcohol did drown the pain but eventually I came to terms. These are scars that I will carry the rest of my life."
"They look to me as if they are healing."
"Not these," I motioned to my face," the scars I'm referring to are mental. I don't think I'll ever be over them. The internal scars might be worse that the ones on the face."
He smiled, "Jonah, I hate to break this to you but the external scars are still pretty bad. You still scare little kids."
“Maybe I can find a job for Halloween?”
A reflective silence settled until Jake broke it by changing the subject. “Do I still get to shoot the FAL tomorrow?"
"First light. It's zeroed for me but you might need to make some adjustments to personalize it. I'm putting you on the sofa for the night."
"Yeah, I saw what you did to the second bedroom."
"You mean the gun room?"
"Don't worry. The sofa will do."
Searching
"Martha drove the snow machine while Hank rode the pillion. He admitted she was the better driver and as a guide, she knew the country better. "This isn't too far out," he commented as they pulled to a stop at the hunting blind where Henry had last been seen. "He could have tried to walk back."
Martha responded to the speculation, "If he walked he would have been in town last night."
"Martha, could you reposition that .44 you are carrying? It’s digging into me."
"Sorry Hank." She pulled the Smith and Wesson 629 from its holster and checked the action before she holstered. "I notice you aren’t carrying?"
"I’ve got you protecting me. I don't need a bear stopper. They're hibernating."