Page 154

The road led to the gated private drive for the leased woodland preserve. I pulled off the road and stopped the SUV. We got out. The air was cold and smelled of wet leaves and damp earth. I gave each boy a small pack and carried the rifle. The remaining daylight gave us enough light to see the ground.

“From here, we walk as if we’re already inside a house while the person sleeps,” I told them. “No talking unless I speak. No lights. Put your feet where I put mine. A man who makes noise dies first. A deer that hears you is gone before you raise the rifle. The idea is the same.”

We walked into the trees. The ground was soft. I showed them how to test each step before putting full weight on it.

“Pay attention when the forest gets quiet,” I said. “The same thing happens in a room when a man starts to sense he is being hunted. Learn to notice it first.”

We followed the signs for twenty minutes. Seth copied my steps exactly.

“See those tracks? He’s comfortable. Comfortable things repeat themselves. You don’t chase him when he is alert. You wait until he is full and slow and sure nothing will happen. Then you take him.”

Luke whispered, “Do they know you are coming?”

“Some feel it at the last second. That’s why you never give them time.”

We reached the edge of a clearing. I raised my hand, and they stopped. Forty yards away, a buck moved through the underbrush. I knelt and raised the rifle. I aimed at the shoulder. I wanted it wounded. I wanted them to see what happened when escape was no longer possible.

The shot hit. The buck staggered and ran into the brush. Blood came out of the wound. I lowered the rifle.

“It’s bleeding. It will run until it gets weak. We follow the trail. Watch the blood and the broken branches. Don’t rush.”

We followed the blood trail. It was clear at first and then harder to see. I made them point out each drop of blood and each broken stem. Luke breathed fast. Seth remained calm. After ten minutes, we found the buck in a low spot. Its sides moved up and down fast. One leg dragged. Blood pumped from the hole in its shoulder. It tried to get up.

I slung the rifle over my shoulder and pulled the hunting knife from its sheath.

“It’s still dangerous,” I told them. “A wounded animal will fight harder because it knows it’s dying. Stay behind the antlers.”

I approached the buck from the rear and forced its head against the ground with my boot. Its body kicked weakly, tearing at the leaves beneath it. I held the knife out to Seth.

“Finish it.”

Seth took the knife and stared down at the buck. Its sides heaved as it struggled to breathe. His fingers tightened around the handle, but he didn’t move.

“Where do I stab it?” he asked.

“In the neck. Do it now.”

Seth raised the knife. The buck released another low cry, and his arm stopped.

I took the knife from him. “You can’t hesitate. Hesitation will cost you everything.”

Luke stepped forward and held out his hand. “Let me do it. I want to see it die.”

I placed the knife in his palm and closed his fingers around the handle. “Then finish it.”

Luke dropped to his knees and drove the blade into the buck’s neck. Its body jerked beneath him. He pulled the knife free and stabbed it again. Blood covered his hand and ran down his wrist.

“Again,” I told him.

He obeyed and stabbed again. The buck kicked once more before its body went still.

Luke remained beside it, breathing hard and staring at the blood coating the blade. Seth stood a few feet away, watching the buck instead of his brother.

I made both boys place their hands on the body. Luke pressed his palm against the blood. Seth kept his hand against its side until the final movement stopped.

“This is what it feels like when the life leaves,” I said. “It’s meat and bone and blood. You don’t look away. You finish the work and remove every trace.”

I showed them how to open the belly with the knife. I cut in one motion. The smell came out strong. Luke leaned closer. Seth watched every cut. We pulled the insides out. I showed them how to skin the body and how to dispose of it.