Riko scanned the room shaking. His dreams of that day have haunted him nearly every day since it happened. For some reason this was the worse time ever. It really shook him up. After about an hour he was ready to start his daily routine of feeding the horses and other animals. He had planned to stalk hunt the bobcat that had killed a couple of his cows.
After fixing and eating breakfast Riko decided to have an extra cup of coffee. After his coffee, he fed the animals. He grabbed his bug out bag threw some jerky in it, lock and loaded his M14 rifle and headed out the door. Saddle up Prince and headed off for the hunt.
He loved stalk hunting. It helped him stay alert, hone his senses and skills as a tracker. " A Marine is always, chin up, head down, and one in the chamber in case you stick the bayonet," his first sergeant would always say. Riko prided himself on being prepared, alert and always ready for the unexpected which is what first sergeant meant. The man knew shit, he should, he served three tours of Nam.
Riko had rode about four clicks before he picked up the bobcats tracks beside the crappie pond and went to the west into the hardwoods. "You mooching bastard," Riko thought, " I bet your in the blowing cave." Riko remembered his grandfather telling stories about blowing cave. It was an old Indian legend about a young braves right of passage. Riko could barely remember the story, but did remember that the young brave died and the breeze that constantly blew out the caves entrance remained a steady temperature.
Riko slowly followed the tracks, stopping and listening ever so often. Spotting a pile of fresh scat, he dismounted and led Prince along the trail. "Time to stay frosty" he thought. He positioned his M14 to condition one and moved on. He knew the bobcat was close, the area was too quiet, no movement.
Twenty minutes had past and no sign of the bobcat. This made him nervous. Then he heard it. A low deep growl to his 11 o'clock. Riko kneeled down and started scanning to trees. There it was, perched upon a rock ledge watching him and Prince. Prince started whining and pacing with nerves. Riko followed his routine just like he always did when taking a shot. "BRASS. Breath, relax, aim, slack, squeeze." The shot echoed as the bullet whizzed through the air striking it's mark right through the head.
"Gotcha!" Riko smiled.
He loaded the bobcat up and was on his way back. It was just 10:00 am, "DAMN I'm good," he thought.. On his way back, Riko's mind drifted off on the situation with Harley.
"It will be simple enough to fix, but would it change her impression of me?" He wondered.
"If she knew how dangerous I can be, hat I am capable of if I loose my temper." "I have to maintain control. I can't loose control and mess up any chances I have with her."
Riko arrived home and decided to go into town to talk with Harley about a plan to help her. He found himself excited to be going to see her.
"Holy fuck! Can't wait to see her sexy ass!"
YOU ARE READING
THE DESOLATE SOUTHLAND
Ficção GeralStory about a former Marine prepared for doomsday by terrorists, falling in love, protecting and saving those around him.
