Wolf Stalker Read Online Free PDF Page B

enough.”
    Below him, the man could see Slough Creek glittering in the afternoon sun. He knew its nearness made his plan risky, and for a moment he considered turning back. Then, his jaw tightening with resolve, he concentrated on his objective: the execution of the wolf.
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    Cussing under his breath, Jack ran along the dirt path. Or tried to run. Every hundred feet, it seemed, the trail was blocked by a fallen tree. Some of them were low enough to the ground that he could jump over them; others he had to stop and climb over. Twice his backpack caught on branches; once it got jerked right off his arm and landed hard on the path. When Jack worriedly opened the pack to make sure his camera hadn’t been damaged, Ashley caught up to him.
    â€œIsn’t it pretty here?” she asked. She pointed to the ground cover, just beginning to take on its autumn colors; to small lavender asters growing against the roots of a toppled pine; at the wide, shallow creek that rippled serenely on their left, reflecting sky and clouds and the thick stands of evergreens that grew along its banks.
    â€œWho cares about pretty!” Jack exploded. “When I catch up to that—that—he’s nothing but trouble!”
    â€œTroy just wants to see some wolves,” Ashley said quietly.
    â€œAnd what are the chances?” Jack cried. “Even if you catch a look at wolves, they’re always so far away you can’t see much, and Troy’s such a dumb city kid he probably wouldn’t know the difference between a coyote and a wolf even if he fell over one.”
    Jack wrapped a pair of socks around his camera and stuffed it back inside his backpack. His camping pack was always stocked with things like extra socks that his mother made him carry.
    With Ashley behind him, he started out at a fast clip because he’d already lost too many minutes. Troy’d had plenty of time to get away. He could have bolted into the trees, or up the side of mountain, or across the creek without leaving any tracks that Jack could follow.
    But only a hundred yards ahead, as Jack hurried around a bend in the trail, he nearly bumped into Troy. Standing perfectly still, deep in the shadow of the trees, Troy was watching a young mule deer graze beside the creek.
    â€œBack off and shut up,” he muttered.
    Ordinarily Jack would have shouted insults at him, would have vented his rage at Troy for causing so much trouble and for being, in general, a total creep. But Jack had been trained from babyhood to tread softly around animals in the wild, to never startle them or disturb their feeding. He clenched his teeth and his fists and managed to stay silent.
    The yearling deer grazed peacefully in the mottled sunlight, switching his long ears forward and backward like a jackrabbit, and flicking his skinny white tail.
    A perfect picture, Jack thought, if he could only get to his camera. As carefully as he could, he lifted the flap of his backpack, but in the stillness, the Velcro fastener pulling apart sounded like a string of exploding firecrackers.
    The deer’s head shot up.
    For a moment it stared first at Ashley, next at Troy. Then, while Jack fumbled inside his pack for the camera, the young deer bounded away, splashing across the creek to the other bank, where four more mule deer, all adults, stood grazing.
    â€œCrud!” Jack exclaimed in disgust. “What a great shot—and I missed it.”
    â€œThey’re right over there in the meadow,” Ashley told him. “You can still take a picture.”
    â€œFrom this far away it wouldn’t show anything. I’m really mad ’cause it was right in front of me and I blew it,” Jack complained. He’d brought only his little point-and-shoot automatic camera that was no good for distance shots. “Anyway, we need to get back. Come on, Troy.”
    Troy ignored him. Big surprise.
    â€œThat ranger’s probably already there by now, and when