Mike darted across the back yard and pushed through the trees, his mind replaying his conversation with Kelly on the porch. Why was she running? Up ahead he heard muted barking and an occasional shout of “Hoove!” That was it then, she was being lured into the woods after her dog. Mike made his way cautiously, but with as much speed as he could afford. The Squirt was going after her dog. The dog was being lured as bait to a trap, no doubt. Mike picked up his pace following the dog's barking and the child’s worried cries.

A mile into the woods, he lost the sounds, altogether. He pulled up next to a large oak. Leaning against it, he tried to catch his breath while straining to hear the noises around him, however nothing but deathly calm surrounded him. A shrill cry of a bird broke the calm up ahead. Mike decided to go in that direction, maybe the child’s progress through the woods disturbed the wild life, or maybe... there was credence to the significance of the black bird. Either way, he had to pick a direction. He started off again through the dense woods.

Another quarter mile in, he tripped the wire. He knew he tripped it as his boot glanced across the wire. His mind was set and ready for the possibility of traps, given the child’s warning, as well as Fred’s past. It would be so easy for Fred: lure the child into the woods, then set the traps after her, taking out her rescuers. That would give the tiger more time to torment its prey... more time to enjoy its feast.

Mike ducked and rolled as the trap sprung. The trip wire was connected to a relay of branches, cut wood and more wire. Once the trap was sprung, the branch, wire and wood released, sending a final spear (1” in diameter) through the air.

The spear was aimed at Mike’s chest in an attempt to impale him to a tree just behind him. Mike was not caught off guard. At the last moment he pivoted, throwing an arm in the path of a spear and deflected it from its intended target- his heart. Unfortunately, Mike’s dodge was not quick enough, as the spear sliced through his upper arm and pinned him to the intended tree. Daggers of hot white pain shocked his system and left him with nothing but throbbing afterwards until mercifully his left arm went numb. 

Mike’s only option was to pry himself loose. He turned, using his free hand and grabbed the spear just above the wound and attempted to pull it loose. Additional sharp stabs shot down his arm and a river of blood broke loose from the wound. He continued to work the spear until it finally pried loose, then staggered forward and dropped to the ground on his knees. He rocked back onto his feet, into a squatting position, and then slipped to rest directly on the ground. After angling the spear to the ground, Mike grasped its end in his legs to pull the spear from his arm.

Movement in the woods grabbed his attention. There was a better than even chance it was Blackney doubling back to finish him off. Mike worked desperately on the spear until it pulled free and dropped it into a position of defense.

*  *. *  *. *

“Are you crazy?”

I whipped around. Mr. Evers was staring at me. I quickly turned back to where I'd seen the tiger, but it was gone. The fog was gone. I looked above and noticed the sky was again blue and cloudless. A falcon circled on air currents yards above the trees.

“What are you doing out here alone, child?”

“Hoove,” I managed to choked out between breaths.

“Your dog?”

“Yes, sir. He run out here and I got to get him back!”

“Calm down–”

“But sir, its gonna kill Hoover!”

“I’ll help you find your hound, Kelly. But you need to stay close to me.”

Mr. Evers pulled loose the rifle he had strapped around his shoulder and carried it, resting in the crook of his right arm. It pointed out in front of us. Then taking my hand, he led me away from the clearing.

We headed towards where I'd last heard Hoover. We had to go a ways before we could hear his muffled barking and soft whining. Every time I tried running to him, Mr. Evers held me fast.

“Ease up, child,” he said. “Let’s play this one smart.”

Hoover’s barking slowly got louder as we made our way closer to him. The trip seemed much longer than it truly was on account of the way I was worried out of my skull for him. We broke through another set of trees and the barking was really loud, but there was no sign of Hoover. The sound came from the ground up ahead of us.

“Hoover!” I called. There was more barking followed by Hoove’s head bobbing up and down out of the ground. I broke clear of Mr. Evers and ran up to where Hoove’s head was bouncing. He started whining once he saw me.

“How’d ya manage that one, Hoove?” I asked him when I got to the big hole. Hoove tried jumping out again, but when he couldn’t make the jump, he sat down on a clump of broken branches and looked at me cocking his head to the right. Then he barked fit to beat holy Jesus.

“All right already!” I yelled at him. “I’ll get ya out, Hoove.”

He stopped barking and again sat down. It wasn’t a very deep hole. It seemed strange to me that a hole would be out in the middle of the woods that way. When I looked at Mr. Evers I could tell he thought it was strange too. He took to staring out at the woods, his gun pointed out in front of him, like he was on guard.

I jumped into the hole next to Hoover. I took him to the edge of the hole and, after first planting his front paws above him on the wall, I got under him and pushed with all my might. He scrambled up the sides as I shoved and soon he was looking down at me, and if you could believe it, smiling.

Mr. Evers gave the woods one more glance before setting his gun down by the side of the hole and reaching down for me. He took my arm and pulled me out of the hole just as the trees at the edge of the clearing were shoved aside.

*  * *  *  

“Mike!” Chief stopped dead at the sight of Mike on the ground. Blood was gushing from a gaping hole in his upper arm. He knelt down to examine Mike’s wound as Mort pushed his way into the clearing. “Are you all right, son?”

“I’m fine!” Mike screamed back, his tone urgent. “Go after her!”

Chief turned to Moss. “Get him back, I’ll go–”

“No!” Mike cut in. “There’s got to be more of these traps, boss. It’ll take both of you to catch them all. The Squirt’s got a better chance if you both go.”

“I can’t leave you like this–”

“Bullshit! Go!”

Undaunted by Mike’s shouting, or the urgency at rescuing his daughter, Chief continued to examine the wound. He pulled his shirt off and ripped it into strips; he balled one of the strips up and pressed it firmly into Mike’s wound, then tied the others tightly around the arm. The bleeding eased.

After helping Mike to his feet, Chief asked, “You think you’ll be able to make it back all right?”

“Yes,” Mike said, calmer now. “Now will you get going?”

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