I.
“Those hikers will be dead in four hours.” The words all but lost beneath the roar of a low-soaring helicopter that swept across a darkening sky only feet above the tree line.
“Sheriff Cahill,” a radio barked inside a patrol car and he turned starring. His patchy face had been chafed by the bitter winter wind. He reached through the window and palmed the microphone. “This is Cahill.”
The voice on the other end was cautious. “Sheriff, volunteers searching the trailhead think they’ve found traces of human blood.”
The frown deepened on Cahill’s face, “How many birds we got in the air?”
“Six.” Static on the line increased, “But it’s hard to see through the trees “‘cause the clouds are cutting the light pretty bad.”
Cahill cursed under his breath and leaned against his jeep 4x4 Police cruiser. “Keep everybody moving, we don’t stop, not even if we lose the light.”
A black pickup stopped beside him, and Cahill tossed the mike onto the front seat that was littered with topographical maps and empty gum wrappers. Cahill had recently stopped smoking after twenty-five years of the habit, but thought he could trade a few sticks of gum for just one drag off a cigarette tonight.
He turned to the sound of sliding gravel and his mouth opened in surprise as a man followed by a great black wolf, stepped from the driver’s side door. The scruffy looking backwoodsman wearing all camouflage came around the front of the vehicle, starring at Cahill, smiling. “Whata’ya got Sheriff?” he asked in his deep southern accent. The gigantic wolf turned its large head toward the tree line.
Clearly shocked, Cahill took a moment to reply. “Damn Frank. I thought you left the country or something? You being here, you must think we have a bear problem.”
“Yea, just got back from Wyoming when I heard there was some missing hikers up here in Boulder. Need any help?” Frank was an avid hunter and knew the mountains of Colorado like the back of his own hand. If anyone could track down and find those hikers, Cahill knew Frank was just the man for the job.
YOU ARE READING
Night of the Grizzly
Horror“Silent night, holy night,” the snow was falling gently to the ground. “All is calm, all is bright,” the moon shone brightly all around. “Round yon virgin, mother and child,” the carolers that had gathered outside the Morrison home sang beaut...
