The GOODLANDS
A Wide-Open West Mystery
Available on Amazon in eBook or paperback.
Part One
GONE WESTERN
“Go quietly, alone; no harm will befall you.” ― John Muir
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Chapter 1
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H |
e was flat on his back and barely
conscious when the brown and gray canine roused him with her soft whine, bad
breath, and rapid panting. She had just rolled and rubbed her face on his open
backpack, and now stood at his side, and licked his bloody shoulder. He
flinched as she ratcheted her head sideways and moved her soothing tongue from
his shoulder to the open wound on his forehead.
“K-Dawg,
is it you, pal?” he said.
With
strained vision, he followed the canine’s flared nostrils upward, until he saw
two yellow eyes as they glared at him with uncertainty. Small, pointed ears
were alert and attentive. She blinked and turned away in submissive behavior.
He
immediately knew it wasn’t his pet, so Sam avoided any display of dominance
toward the wild creature. He held his breath as the she-wolf looked up and
listened with keen interest to sounds in the last light of day, then she
stepped carefully over the human legs and walked toward a game trail which led
deep into the darkened timber.
The
lobo looked back, shook her head, and twin strings of slobber created an arc in
the twilight as she trotted confidently into the darkness, accompanied by the
scent of her mother, stolen from the human evidence bag. She stopped once and
emitted a faint whine, then howled for her lost pack as the cries converged
with the wind.
Oddly,
Sam Rios, a Law Enforcement Officer for the US Forest Service, did not fear the
wild creature, but as she disappeared, he exhaled in relief. He searched in the
wolf’s direction, but saw only black silhouetted statues of Ponderosa pines
displayed against a backdrop of sky, soon to disappear. He couldn’t remember
how he got hurt and ended up on the ground, but in his mind, he envisioned dead
wolves draped over a fence, a violent ambush, and a gunfight. If only I
could remember…
As
he stretched his wounded body upward to peer deep into the woods, he lost his
balance, rolled downhill, and landed in a shallow stream of icy water, which
racked him in pain. He shivered and cried out in anguish, as the mountain’s
spine hushed and predators paused to listen.
Sam
knew he must struggle to remain in survival mode, but warm fluid dribbled into
his eye, pain stabbed at his chest, and he couldn’t move his left arm. When he
tried to escape the water, its sandy bottom hugged his body tighter.
