A Shepherd's Calling (What Comes After Book 2) Read Online Free Page A

himself at a branch nearly six feet off the ground. Grabbing the stout limb with both hands, he felt thick bark bite into his palms. With both arms wrapped around the heavy branch, he scrambled up the trunk of the pine with little grace but great success. He ended atop the branch in a half-crouch and moved to a more secure, seated position before looking down and confirming his suspicion.
    Not one, but two animals glowered at him from the base of the tree. Their tails were high, fur on end, eyes focused and unblinking. Their muzzles angled up at him, prominently displaying pointed, yellowed teeth. Savage, unnatural sounds issued from mouths that opened and snapped shut viciously, as though their growling and barking could offer some projection of force to knock the human from his perch. The smaller of the two appeared to be part spaniel, if the spots and coat were any indicator. The larger one had the block head of a lab, but lacked the musculature to be pure bred.
    “ Not today, little one,” he murmured.
    Chris watched the two dogs at the base of the tree for a moment, then looked back into the forest proper. The eyes of the bigger animal still on him, but only for a heartbeat, before it turned it's massive head to the brick building. The Hunter did the same and noticed more movement in the trees on either side of the fire station.
    So you weren't after me , the man thought. He performed a series of rote motions, every bit as mechanical as the device those motions brought to bear. You already had this place staked out. The .30-06 was off his back and swung easily to his shoulder. What, then, were you waiting for? His left hand wrapped itself in the loose band of the sling twice before gripping the checkered wood of the fore stock, directly beneath the barrel. What did I interrupt in search of my own breakfast? His cheek rested against the cool pad on the stock, his left eye closing as his right eye took up the needed clearance to use the scope. And for the love of God, how many of you are out there?
    He was just beginning to sweep the far end of the tree line when he heard a banging thump come from the building. That would be the door I was just checking , he thought. Curious as to what had opened it, Chris opened his left eye and lifted his head. Just over the top of his scope, the older man saw something that made his jaw drop.
    A boy stood in the doorway. He couldn't be more than 6 or 7, and he was alone. But that wasn't all. As soon as the boy stepped out of the building, there were two explosions of motion. Dark, furry blurs raced from the trees, one from either side of the clearing.
    This close, the scope would be useless. With a minor movement of his head, Chris returned his cheek to the stock, sighted along the barrel and released the safety. He didn't need to account for wind, only range and movement. He put the barrel just under the head of the first dog and touched his finger to the trigger. He was so practiced with the weapon, and it was so finely tuned, that the shot seemed to fire when the Hunter no more than thought about the rifle going off. The report was almost immediately lost to the ringing that rose in his ears. The recoil of the shot pushed his shoulder, a firm reminder to chamber the next round.
    Peripherally, he saw his first target drop while he brought his weapon back to his shoulder. He knew he had even less time now, so center mass was the only real option. He lined up with the dog's chest and squeezed the trigger a second time. Another crack, another thump of recoil. Working the bolt, the Hunter saw the devastating effect of his shot: spine and shoulders shattered, the animal convulsed mid-step, jerking to the side. It crashed into the brick wall of the fire house, then collapsed into a twitching mass of fur just yards from where the child still stood.
    Seeing that the boy was clear from immediate danger, Chris surveyed the clearing and tree line. Several spots of rustling motion and scattered