Chapter One
Homicide
“Hey, Homicide, we going hunting for the man-eating grizzly today?” Blade cocks his head back and hollers from his black leather gaming chair. His blonde hair is sticking up, and he looks as if he hasn’t shaved in three days. He’s only wearing grey sweatpants while he’s hunkered under a blue fleece blanket. From the looks of the snack-pile around him, he’s been up all night. Again.
I look up from my steaming mug of coffee as I study him, wondering how the fuck he’s going to be useful today after no sleep. “Planning on it. I need to kill something, and since this griz is going after people, he needs to be put down. You going to be any help after being up all night?”
“I’ll be fine. I took a nap yesterday,” he says with a cocky smirk then grabs a handful of chips and shoves them in his mouth. I watch with disdain as crumbs fall down the front of him and onto the floor. I hear Roadblock curse after a loud thump then watch him enter the kitchen, looking all groggy with a scowl on his face, hair sticking up in every direction as he shuffles over to the coffee pot. "You up for helping me hunt down that grizzly today, Roadblock?" he grunts at me, and I take it as a yes.
“You seen Checkmate yet?” I ask our night owl, Blade.
“Nah, man. He went to the bar, never came home. Probably still between some chick’s legs from last night,” he replies while shaking his head.
“How he finds pussy in this small-ass town all the damn time I'll never understand." I sigh and shake my head.
“I think he went to Whitefish last night. Said he needed to find some new women,” Blade says, staring intently at his video game. “You shot me, mother fucker!” he yells as he whips the gaming controller across the room. “Son of a bitch!” he curses and scowls at the TV.
“Well then, maybe since you died, you should go shower and get geared up so you can be ready on time. If you’re not ready by 0800, I'm leaving your ass behind." I chug down the last of my coffee and set the cup in the sink. As I’m on my way out of the kitchen, Roadblock gives me a chin lift so I know he’s in.
“Pack light. Kill Heavy. Oorah,” Blade says dryly while he stretches and rolls his neck.
“Oorah," I say to him and bump his shoulder as I pass him in the living room, making my way toward my room.
Oorah," Roadblock growls out, sounding more like a grizzly bear than a man. Hell, he’s big enough to be one. He’s our not-so-friendly giant.
“You need to get laid, dude. You’ve been one grumpy-ass mother trucker lately,” Blade says then ducks when he sees Roadblock’s huge fist coming toward his face.
“Yeah, mother fucker, you’re bigger, but I’m faster,” Blade taunts him and smacks his ass then takes off running to his room. “Ha-ha-ha, mother fucker, can’t catch me.” I glance over my shoulder to see Blade’s doing his famous leprechaun dance in the hallway entrance. He’s gonna get his ass beat by a giant here soon if he keeps up his taunting.
“Haven't you ever heard don’t poke the bear, Blade? You might live longer.” I smirk at him. “I don't think he can get laid. He scares the women away he's so fucking cold and emotionless. Maybe we can hire an escort," I say with a raised brow, grinning at Blade, knowing full well I’m now poking the bear. Roadblock just glares at us as he bulldozes Blade out of the way, and he grunts as he’s slammed against the wall.
“Fuck, man! That hurt, you fucking giant” Blade whines as he rubs his shoulder then looks at me. “And where the fuck are we gonna find an escort service in the middle of Timbuktu?”
I shrug. “I don’t know, but get your lazy ass in gear. We gotta beast to track.”
An hour and a half later, we're armed to the teeth, dressed in our black BDUs, walking through a field of an old friend of my uncles who called to tell me while we were pulling out of the driveway the grizzly bear was ripping his front door to shreds, trying to get in to his food or him, not even twenty minutes ago. This bear has been a nuisance, chasing people down, going after livestock, busting out windows in people's homes. He could easily kill someone, and it would gut me if that happened or if it took a little kid, knowing we could stop it. He’s been shot, but it wasn’t a kill shot. Now he’s even angrier. I offered to help track this son of a bitch down and save a life or two.
We’ve been following his tracks for about thirty minutes, seen some fresh scat, and now we’re walking along an old logging road. I pull my binoculars out and start scanning, but there’s no sign of him. We hump another mile up this logging road when we see his tracks leading off to the left of the tree line.
"I hope we find this fucker. I'm in the mood for bear meat," Blade says with a wicked grin and looks to Roadblock. "What about you, Roadblock? You up for bear meat?"
"I don't fucking care what I eat. I just want to kill this fucker," Roadblock snarls.
"You know you used to be a touch more pleasant. Never nice or happy, but you are really turning into a sour old man. You know that?"
Roadblock glares at Blade then says through gritted teeth, “Maybe because I’m sick of hearing your fucking mouth nonstop. So why don’t you shut the fuck up?”
I just shake my head. These two are always bickering. But I have sensed a darkness in Roadblock even more than his usual brooding self lately. I wonder if something is up or if Blade’s right and he just needs to get laid or find a woman. Maybe he’s not happy with us. I pull to a sudden stop. "Whoa," I say real low and put my fist up, crouching down close to the ground. My men follow suit. We can get serious real quick – too many years of practice. I take aim with my rifle and use the scope to scan as I walk forward, keeping low. I still don’t see anything, so we keep walking, quiet and slow. There’s another grunt, but then suddenly, we hear what sounds like two grizzlies going to war. We pick up speed when the sound of tree branches snapping hits us, and the roaring gets louder.
We come up to a little clearing next to a stream and see two huge grizzlies warring, teeth-gnashing, monster claws striking. The bigger, blacker looking grizzly latches down on the slightly smaller reddish one's throat, and he's shaking his head. The smaller griz lets out a pained whine as it tries to shake him off. We sit back and watch but stay out of the way. I can't tell for certain, but the bigger one looks like it might be our problem bear. We’ve been told he’s dark and has a long scar on his face you can’t miss.
Blade points. “Look, he’s got a long, wide scar on his face. That’s gotta be him.”
“Looks like it,” I say as I study the angry beast.
He starts shaking his head violently, and the smaller bear gets slammed down with a heavy groan. He gives a few more shakes before he lets go and starts walking off to the right. I track him as he approaches a tree. Then I see him pawing at something. “Fuck! That’s a person! Go, go, go!” I shout quickly and move toward the bear.
“Watch my six with the one down,” I say as I make a wide arc around the bear so I can come at him from the front. The body isn’t moving, and I don’t know if he’s dead or knocked out. I can’t get close enough to get a real good look yet. I bring my rifle up to my shoulder and take aim, squeezing the trigger. I hit the bear in the fatty part of his head, and he flinches but doesn't back down. He looks over at me and opens his giant jaws to let out an ear-piercing roar before he starts charging at me. I chamber another round, but the griz is coming up on me fast. Just then, Roadblock fires and makes a direct hit. The Bear falls hard and slides about five feet before he stops, not even ten feet away. That practically has my heart pounding out of my chest. Not a lot out there shakes me up anymore after the kinds of missions we’ve been on, but damn, I’m a little shaken.