raised to protect his face, and parted just slightly so he could see.
Their tracks led straight ahead and then curved to the left. It wouldn’t be difficult to find them, especially since she’d decided to run toward the wetlands, which would be the end of her. It was so thick with mud there, she’d sink into it and eventually would be unable to move.
Charged by the kill at hand, he continued to follow the footsteps and ran as fast as he could, only stopping for a puzzled instant when he heard the distinct sound of someone shrieking.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
When Cheryl Dunning saw the moose grazing at the edge of the wetlands in front of her, she initially felt a sense of dread before she realized that its presence might offer her an opportunity for escape.
It was a male bull, it stood about seven feet at its shoulders, and it had a massive rack of palmate antlers on its head that suggested it was probably around ten years old if she counted the points correctly and also took into consideration the regression of the palmate.
As a child and into her early teens, she hunted moose and deer with her father and her grandfather, who were master huntsmen and who taught her everything she knew about them, from how to hunt them to how to gut them. Hunting was a family tradition, something they did in the fall in an effort to put food on the table throughout the tough winter months.
She herself had bagged three moose. She knew how to take one down and she knew how dangerous they could be during the rutting season, which it was now.
In September and October, going anywhere near a bull was akin to poking a grizzly bear with a stick. You just didn’t do it unless you were armed with a rifle to take it down, like the Remington M700 Mountain Rifle in .280 caliber, which her father and grandfather favored.
Behind her, she could hear her attacker closing in. She took a quick glance around, couldn’t see him and stepped behind a large pine tree so he couldn’t see her when he arrived.
She pressed her back against the bark. In the near distance, she heard branches snap and the sound of him running toward her. She looked at the moose, who was looking back at her, and she saw the last thing she wanted to see―the hair on his back was raised and his ears were lowered. Worse, he was licking his lips, all sure signs that he was about to charge.
She remained perfectly still, keeping her eyes fixed on the moose, which had stopped chewing whatever it was eating and let out the sort of loud, furious snort that would break bones if bones could shatter from fear alone.
If he charged her, she wouldn’t run. Too risky. Instead, she’d wait until he was just upon her and then turn quickly to the other side of the tree in an effort to protect herself from being struck.
The problem with this is that her plan would only protect her from the moose. If she turned to the other side of the tree, she’d expose herself to her attacker, who was growing closer with each step.
She looked at the moose and willed it to wait.
But it didn’t.
It took a step toward her, its tall legs sloshing in the murky water. She watched the hair prick up higher on his back and she saw him lick his lips again. He was twenty yards away and his eyes were absolutely steady with hers. She gripped the base of the tree trunk and prepared herself for the worst when the bull suddenly charged. She felt a start, watched it close the distance between them, its head lowered, antlers poised, its coat of muscle and fat shaking right along with the ground beneath her feet, and then she prayed that her attacker would appear now and distract the moose.
But he didn’t.
With only seconds left, she scooted down, swung her body to the right, pressed her back as low as possible against the trunk and felt the tree shake when the moose’s antlers connected with it. She shrieked from the impact, which was so hard, she bounced off the trunk and landed on her stomach in a pool of standing water.
She could hear the moose behind her, stumbling backward, likely hurt and more enraged now than before. She tried to get to her feet, but her hands and feet were lodged and