Chapter 121: Two Against Seven, the Recording Can Be Checked

[Chapter 122: Two Against Seven, the Record Can Be Checked]

In the sparse woods, Hawke squatted down, checking the ground while carrying a heavy backpack. The leaves and underbrush underfoot were trampled, with dark fur scattered around and dried blackened bloodstains.

Behind him, Erica, also carrying a large pack and holding a Savage shotgun, scanned the surroundings vigilantly.

Hawke picked up a stick and swept away the leaves, revealing tracks beneath.

"A wild boar," he said, pointing out the hoof prints and the dug-up soil, along with claw marks. "It was ambushed by a feline. Judging by size, it's likely a cougar."

Erica leaned in to take a look and replied, "A cougar would be nice."

Hawke tossed the stick aside, grabbing his Remington shotgun as he followed the tracks heading northeast. "This way. If we're lucky, we might bag a cougar today."

"Can Jeffrey City make a specimen?" Erica, always pulling on Hawke, said, "I have a big villa in Silver Lake with plenty of space to turn into an exhibition room."

She emphasized, "Once we finish the exhibition room, we can display the specimens of the game we hunted together."

Hawke teased back, "You want to move in with me? Isn't that a bit fast?"

Erica grinded her teeth. "I haven't even stayed at that villa. I spend at least four nights a week at my place and I have to visit my grandparents on weekends."

"Shh--" Hawke put his finger to his lips, signaling her to be quiet, as he crept forward through the underbrush.

Erica sensed the foul odor and tightened her grip on the shotgun, becoming more alert.

They came across a small white-tailed deer whose insides had been completely devoured, with the rest of its body already decomposing.

Erica examined it closely, stating, "It must have been here for at least a week."

"We walked into its hunting ground," Hawke said as he took out a video recording device, pinning it to his chest and turning it on.

Neither spoke further as they followed the tracks deeper into the woods. The terrain became increasingly rugged; the hills weren't tall, and the trees were sparse enough that they often had to walk long distances between them.

Reaching the highest summit, Hawke scrambled to the peak and looked through his binoculars.

Erica joined him, asking, "What do you see?"

"Look over there." Hawke handed her the binoculars, pointing northeast. "In the farthest distance, you can faintly see a domed building. That's the boundary of the Indian reservation."

Erica squinted to see. The building was nearly at the edge of the binoculars' view, with an estimated distance of over three kilometers. Given the undulating terrain, it would likely take twice that just to walk there.

"We can't just enter the reservation without permission," she said. "Let's see if we get anything there, then turn back if we don't."

Hawke slid down the rocks. "Let's go."

...

Initially, they lost the tracks, but not long after, they stumbled upon another carcass that was also half-eaten and rotting.

Since there was fresh food around, the top predator in North America, the cougar, usually avoided decaying meals.

Continuing forward, Hawke spotted some carnivore feces.

The ground evened out gradually, with wind blowing in from the northeast. Erica whispered, "Do you smell that?"

Hawke nodded slightly. "A stench of decay."

Erica lifted her shotgun, positioning herself behind Hawke.

Hawke ventured further, and the ground leveled out completely. The trees became more spread apart, so much so that they could often walk several feet before encountering another.

He paused in front of a thick birch tree, where deep scratch marks told tales of feline claws.

Looking a bit ahead, he located the source of the awful smell. A pile of chewed ribs lay amidst the thicket, strewn with clumps of dirt and rocks behind them.

The site covered a large area, spreading across dozens of meters, nearing the slope of another small hill, as if a landslide had once taken place.

Hawke scrutinized closely and exclaimed, "Something doesn't add up."

Having been a police officer, Erica saw nothing suspicious around and urged Hawke, "Is your video recording device on?"

"It's running," Hawke gestured to his chest.

"Include me in the footage." Erica cautiously stepped forward, slightly raising her shotgun.

Hawke followed suit.

As they reached the edge of the underbrush, Erica approached the bones, examining them without touching, "These are human bones."

Hawke pointed to the meat that was almost completely decayed. "He has been dead for a while."

"Over half a month," Erica replied as she moved ahead and found a femur and a foot just behind a pile of rocks, both cleaned of flesh.

A gust of wind blew, and Hawke caught a whiff of decay again, but not from the bones at his feet.

He moved towards the source, finally spotting another body.

"Over here," Hawke gestured.

Erica hurried over to discover the body was missing two legs and an arm, its innards entirely hollowed out; the face was chewed off, and dark hair was tied back into a braid.

Hawke frowned. "A cougar attacked two people in a short amount of time?"

Erica turned to him. "I'll use the satellite phone in my bag to call for help."

Hawke pulled out the satellite phone, indicating the braid. "Looks like it was an Indian."

It wasn't far from the reservation now.

"Local police don't cover Indian matters," Erica knew the protocol and dialed the FBI number, and once connected, said, "Jen, it's me, Erica. I'm hunting in the mountains northeast of Jeffrey City near the reservation, and I found two bodies that have been partially eaten by animals. One is likely an Indian..."

She glanced at her GPS-enabled watch. "I need you to record the coordinates."

Once she finished the call, Erica was about to speak when Hawke made a silencing gesture, pointing into the distance. He lowered his voice. "I think I hear a car engine."

Erica listened carefully, saying, "Let's hide and see what's going on."

"Find a concealed spot." Hawke lingered back, clearing away any traces they left. He then caught up with Erica, hiding within the rocky debris.

...

Just as they concealed themselves, the roar of an off-road vehicle sliced through the forest.

Out here, the most dangerous predators often roamed on two legs rather than four.

Hawke crouched behind a mound of broken rocks, peeking out. A dirty black SUV and a pickup truck rolled in.

The black SUV seemed vaguely familiar, and as it drew closer, Hawke spotted the name "Cougar Discovery Company" on it.

Erica turned to Hawke, sharing a glance that conveyed mutual understanding.

Today could get messy.

The two sides were not far apart; with trees sparse on this side, the terrain flat, they could only wait and see what unfolded.

Hawke took down the video recording device and tucked it behind some stones, where there was enough space to adjust the camera angle frequently.

...

The SUV maneuvered through the flat area and approached the heap of rubble.

Hawke and Erica prepared for the worst, guns in hand.

The black SUV halted, and four men in black security uniforms stepped out.

One man with a bushy beard waved at the pickup truck behind them, signaling for it to be brought closer.

The other three men brandished AR rifles, scanning the surroundings warily.

The pickup truck's engine roared to life and arrived with a louder rumble.

Three people climbed out of the vehicle, two of whom Hawke had seen the night before at the restaurant. The third was an older balding man directing them to unload stuff from the truck bed.

They tossed two bodies from the truck bed onto the ground.

Both corpses had dark braids, clearly identified as Indians.

The bald man chuckled, saying, "Our little kittens have fresh food again."

The man with tattoos on his neck added, "An environmental organization should give us an award; we're feeding the whole family of kittens."

"These bastards forget how their ancestors were scalped by us!" the blonde man kicked one of the bodies violently. "Whoever dares to stand in our way is asking for trouble."

The bald man urged, "Alright, let's clean this up quickly and head back for our reward."

...

They had done this more than once, and even the prey had grown accustomed to it; when they heard vehicle engines, they didn't hide but came out instead to grab a snack.

Just then, two small cougars poked their heads out from a pile of rubble, curiously looking around.

An adult female cougar sprinted down the hillside at full speed.

This big cat moved with grace, making almost no sound as it leapt through the rocks and debris, getting closer to the dens.

It spotted the small cougars peeking out and also caught sight of Hawke and Erica hiding behind the stones.

Instinctively, the cougar bolted toward them.

As it closed the distance, Hawke heard the sound of rolling stones behind him, and a weird sensation of being hunted warned him of imminent danger.

He instinctively turned around, only to see the large cat leaping toward him.

With lightning-fast reflexes, he swung the shotgun but didn't even have time to aim before pulling the trigger.

The gunshot thundered!

In an instant, under the shotgun's blast, life and death were impartial.

The cougar's chest was ripped open by the pellets, blood spraying everywhere.

Simultaneously, alerted by the danger, Erica turned around as well, but the Savage shotgun was too long, and she was a second late.

Another gunshot rang out, the bullet hitting the cougar's neck.

The cougar thudded to the ground, never to rise again.

Though Hawke and Erica had just escaped danger, their training kicked in. They instinctively switched positions, hiding behind rocks, simultaneously discarding their backpacks.

...

BANG! BANG! BANG!

The sound of an AR-15's semi-automatic fire erupted, bullets striking dangerously close to where Hawke and Erica had just hidden.

As the shotgun fired, the three men with AR rifles quickly deduced the source, not bothering with wasted words or movements, unleashing a barrage of bullets in that direction.

The others scattered to their trucks, retrieving their firearms and ammunition, seeking places to hide. After the three ran out of ammo, they continued to lay down suppressive fire.

These men were experienced, either hiding behind rocks or the front of their engine blocks, raising their rifles overhead and firing randomly toward the rubble.

The bald man pressed against the front wheel of the pickup, anger etched on his face.

Dumping the bodies would certainly attract attention; they couldn't let this slide.

He gestured with a slicing motion to the few hiding behind the trucks, signaling not to leave any survivors.

"Damn it!" the bearded man complained. "I'll draw their attention while you two circle around from the side."

The bushy-bearded man pointed at the other two.

"Open fire!" the bald man shouted.

He and the other two raised their weapons overhead, shooting blind at the pile of rocks.

Using the distraction, the bearded man and two others swiftly dashed around the vehicles.

...

In the rubble, Hawke hunched low and began to maneuver around.

When the gunfire erupted, he quickly squeezed into a pile of dirt, noticing two tiny cougars crouching in a hole amid the stones.

The gunfire startled them, causing them to tremble and urinate on the spot.

Hawke seized one by the scruff of its neck and tossed it toward the side.

The cub hit the ground, struggled to run, making racket among the stones.

The two white men, alerted by the commotion, immediately opened fire.

The successive gunfire clued Hawke into their location; he pushed off the ground, darting away like a rabbit.

He hadn't even seen anyone yet when he shoved his shotgun outward, firing repeatedly toward where he predicted they were.

In the deafening chaos, Hawke quickly emptied the shotgun's chamber, then ducked for cover to reload.

The sound of heavy things dropping echoed twice.

Two men collapsed to the ground, their chests and shoulders horrifically mangled, twitching as they lay in a pool of blood.

BANG!

The Savage shotgun boomed again.

Erica must have hit a man; he screamed out in agony.

The bearded man cowered behind a mound of dirt, staring into the void, fear paralyzing him as death loomed close.

Lying in a pool of blood, a man glanced at him, his pupils widening.

Gunfire erupted again nearby.

The bearded man considered retreating, shrinking back, still aiming his gun at where the man lay.

Taking advantage of Erica drawing attention away, Hawke swiftly rose and sprinted to another mound of dirt, seeing another person's shoulder protruding. As the body slid back and up, Hawke fired at that spot repeatedly.

The bearded man noticed the movement, but before the gun could be turned his way, a hail of gravel mixed with bullets slammed into him, making his grip fail on the weapon.

As he fell, he was unfortunate enough to take a shotgun blast squarely in his mouth, turning it into mush.

Hawke slid down from the pile of rubble, ignoring the sting on his back, crouching as he circled toward the two vehicles.

The gunfire from the semi-automatic rifle diminished, and to Hawke's trained ears, only one rifle was still firing.

Hawke quickly glanced up, spotting one of the gunmen shooting forward and rapidly fired two shots with the shotgun.

The man went down amidst wails as Hawke's shotgun echoed, silencing him.

Erica's crisp voice called out, "At the back of the truck, one man!"

"Guys, we're the FBI, surrender now! Your people are all dead! We have over ten agents searching the area, and you've got five minutes at most before a swarm of us comes through!" Hawke shouted.

The bald man, crouched behind the front wheel of the pickup, seemed conflicted over Hawke's claim.

From the gunfire, it was evident the two were trained professionals, having taken out six of his men with just the two of them.

The bald man thought about altering his cover. If the FBI really came, he'd have no means of defense.

Hawke feigned a call on his radio, declaring loudly, "The target is behind the pickup! You'll see him as soon as you come over. Don't worry about taking him alive; just shoot to kill!"

The bald man, wary of a two-front ambush, kept glancing nervously behind him.

Understanding Hawke's call, Erica fired again, her bullet hit the truck's hood, causing it to jolt and shake.

The bald man, preoccupied from two angles, had one foot exposed due to the tremors.

Hawke took aim at the visible black boot, firing.

Chunks of black leather and flesh flew violently.

The bald man could no longer hold his position. He crumpled down dramatically.

Erica adjusted her aim, firing again. The bullet surged forth, shredding a good portion of the bald man's right palm, taking the AR with it.

Hawke rose and dashed to the back of the pickup, taking aim at the bald man's chest with his shotgun.

He proclaimed loudly, "Got him!"

The bald man was left in a shocking, dreadful state, half a foot and a hand missing, the sight grim.

*****

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