The Vegan's Hunter Read Online Free

sky was getting blacker by the second and the wind was picking up. He followed his gut and headed back. It was the smart move. And Tyler always made the smart move in the wilderness. Maybe Al will understand. His pack felt heavier than ever as he hiked back. He never felt so weighed-down. Al never understood.
     
     
     
     

    Tyler picked up his pace as the rain started to increase. I hope the cameras don’t get wet. They were wrapped up in two waterproof plastic bags but he was still paranoid. I can’t give Al any excuse to cancel my show. A lost episode would definitely push him over the edge. An edge that he was barely hanging onto.
    His camp was still about forty five minutes away if he kept up this brisk pace. The nearest road was at least twelve miles. I’m sleeping outdoors tonight.
    Tyler was backtracking along the same game trail that he used that morning. The tree branches had been snapped off and the ground packed hard by the hundreds of elk that strutted down it through the years. A splash of red on a rock caught his eye. Blood? He knelt down closer and swiped it with his finger. It was definitely blood. He jumped up, darting his head from side to side. Maybe a mountain lion attack? A grizzly bear?
    He just wanted to lie on his cot and pass out for the night. Fighting with a mountain lion was not on his list of desires right now. He noticed more dark spots in the dirt and splattered on nearby trees.
    He pulled an arrow out and cocked his bow, ready for something to jump out of the bush. He continued down the path careful not to make any sounds. The blood spots were getting more frequent the further he went. His jaw was clenched. His heart rate quickened.
    Something a few yards away caught his eye. A dead bull lying on the ground like a piece of thrown away garbage. Tyler stalked closer, his bow still ready in case the predator was still around.
    The bull had no antlers.
    He arrived at the dead elk and it was riddled with bullet holes. Twenty. Thirty. He lost count. Tyler picked up a brass cartridge off of the ground and inspected it. Automatic weapons. He hurled it into the brush. The antlers were hacked off the head, taken for a trophy, but everything else was left to waste. Left to rot.
    He wished he was around earlier to catch these cowards in the act. What he would do to them. Heat flushed through his body even though the cold rain had seeped through his rain coat.
    Empty beer cans were spewed around the area along with cigarette butts and Twinkie wrappers. It was people like them that gave hunters a bad name. And people like Kayley who just lumped all of us together.
    An empty bottle lay on the ground. Suntory Yamazaki 12 Year Old Single Malt Whiskey from Japan. He kicked it into the brush and it landed with a clink.
    He unzipped his pack and and retrieved the camera in the two layers of plastic. If he couldn’t get a kill at least he could get this on tape. He was always trying to foster respect for nature from his viewers. He wanted to teach them the right way to do things. The ethical way.
    The knot on the bag was tied too tight. He dug into it with his finger and didn’t hear the mountain lion creep up until it was too late.
    This was not the first mountain lion that Tyler had encountered but the other ones had never been so close. They often came when they heard the cow calls. To them it sounded like a dinner bell.
    The monstrous cat was less than three yards away stalking towards him slowly. The rain bounced off of his silver fur. Even the rain drops wanted to get as far away from the deadly predator as possible.
    The mountain lion’s harsh eyes stared at him like he was made of hamburger, which for the mountain lion he was. Tyler dug his feet into the muddy ground and stood up slowly. Don’t run. Whatever you do don’t run. If he ran the cat’s instinct would kick in. He would chase him down and pounce on his back. At that point no man would be a match against his razor claws and dagger