Read Online (1995) The Oath by Frank Peretti - Free Book Online
Authors: Frank Peretti
Tags: Suspense
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idea, I mean, just for the sake of information, would you happen to know—”
“What, Charlie, what?”
“Well, this mauling, this guy that got killed up on Wells Peak—”
Levi just stared at him.
“Was he, you know, were he and Maggie . . .”
“Now what kind of a question is that?”
“Well, she’s Harold’s wife.”
With that, Levi almost laughed. “Charlie, are you scared of something?” Charlie said nothing, but Levi didn’t think Charlie could deny it, seeing as he was hiding it so poorly. “I’m impressed that suddenly another person’s problems matter to you.”
Charlie was really getting flustered. “Well, I was just kind of wondering.”
Levi wanted the last word at least. “Charlie, you know my message is always the same.” He closed one eye and sighted down his pointed finger at Charlie’s heart. “Before you start worrying about some critter in those mountains, you’d better worry about the critter you’ve got right in there. That’s the one that’s gonna kill you.”
Charlie looked out the window and fidgeted in the chair. Then he muttered, “This sort of thing just hasn’t happened in a long time.”
Levi looked at his paperwork and said offhandedly, “Oh-h-h, it hasn’t been that long, has it?”
Charlie turned from the window toward Levi. “Don’t talk about it!”
Levi locked eyes with him. “No, not that long. And I guess you’re afraid it might happen again. Is that it?”
“All right, fine; just forget it!” Charlie retorted. He jumped up so fast he knocked the chair over.
“Well, it might,” Levi said casually, looking down at his paperwork again.
“Forget it!”
And with that, Charlie was out the door, past the gas pumps, and across the street.
Now Levi sat there alone with only the tools to talk to. “What’d I say?”
IT WAS DUSK . The mosquitoes were coming out and inquiring at every square inch of Steve’s body, trying unsuccessfully to find some avenue through all that camouflage gear and insect repellent. One was buzzing right near his ear, another near his brow. But Steve did not respond. He did not stir; his powerful muscles were stone steady. The thicket of serviceberries and willow that surrounded and concealed him remained undisturbed.
He was sighting through his rifle scope, his finger tightly around the trigger. About thirty yards below him, on the game trail, a grizzly, its body thick and ponderous, its shoulder hump pronounced, had found the bait and was now pawing and clawing through the doughnuts with its long, white claws, virtually inhaling them, lapping at the grease, snorting, licking, chomping. He wasn’t the biggest bear Steve had ever seen, but, at seven hundred pounds, he was impressive nonetheless. Steve was waiting for 318 to turn sideways just a little more. He was going for a shot through the chest just behind the foreleg, just below the midline, a shot through the lungs and heart that would kill the bear immediately.
The bear moved forward a foot or so, and Steve followed him through the scope. Cliff would have envied this shot, this trophy. Had this been one of their many hunting trips together, Steve could have bragged about it just to give Cliff the old needle. It was so strange now to think that this bear had eaten—
Steve banished all thoughts except for the bear in his sights. Herman, you’re going down.
The bear moved forward, pawing through the doughnuts. The chest was exposed.
Steve fired, the rifle kicking back against his shoulder. He chambered another round and had 318 in his scope again just as the bear toppled to the ground. Another round finished the kill in a matter of seconds. Somewhere in the gathering darkness he could hear Marcus hollering. The shots had been clean and true.
Steve moved for the first time, rising from the blind, his body aching and trembling. On any other hunting trip, this would have been a supreme moment. Today he felt no joy at all.
Marcus worked his way down from
“What, Charlie, what?”
“Well, this mauling, this guy that got killed up on Wells Peak—”
Levi just stared at him.
“Was he, you know, were he and Maggie . . .”
“Now what kind of a question is that?”
“Well, she’s Harold’s wife.”
With that, Levi almost laughed. “Charlie, are you scared of something?” Charlie said nothing, but Levi didn’t think Charlie could deny it, seeing as he was hiding it so poorly. “I’m impressed that suddenly another person’s problems matter to you.”
Charlie was really getting flustered. “Well, I was just kind of wondering.”
Levi wanted the last word at least. “Charlie, you know my message is always the same.” He closed one eye and sighted down his pointed finger at Charlie’s heart. “Before you start worrying about some critter in those mountains, you’d better worry about the critter you’ve got right in there. That’s the one that’s gonna kill you.”
Charlie looked out the window and fidgeted in the chair. Then he muttered, “This sort of thing just hasn’t happened in a long time.”
Levi looked at his paperwork and said offhandedly, “Oh-h-h, it hasn’t been that long, has it?”
Charlie turned from the window toward Levi. “Don’t talk about it!”
Levi locked eyes with him. “No, not that long. And I guess you’re afraid it might happen again. Is that it?”
“All right, fine; just forget it!” Charlie retorted. He jumped up so fast he knocked the chair over.
“Well, it might,” Levi said casually, looking down at his paperwork again.
“Forget it!”
And with that, Charlie was out the door, past the gas pumps, and across the street.
Now Levi sat there alone with only the tools to talk to. “What’d I say?”
IT WAS DUSK . The mosquitoes were coming out and inquiring at every square inch of Steve’s body, trying unsuccessfully to find some avenue through all that camouflage gear and insect repellent. One was buzzing right near his ear, another near his brow. But Steve did not respond. He did not stir; his powerful muscles were stone steady. The thicket of serviceberries and willow that surrounded and concealed him remained undisturbed.
He was sighting through his rifle scope, his finger tightly around the trigger. About thirty yards below him, on the game trail, a grizzly, its body thick and ponderous, its shoulder hump pronounced, had found the bait and was now pawing and clawing through the doughnuts with its long, white claws, virtually inhaling them, lapping at the grease, snorting, licking, chomping. He wasn’t the biggest bear Steve had ever seen, but, at seven hundred pounds, he was impressive nonetheless. Steve was waiting for 318 to turn sideways just a little more. He was going for a shot through the chest just behind the foreleg, just below the midline, a shot through the lungs and heart that would kill the bear immediately.
The bear moved forward a foot or so, and Steve followed him through the scope. Cliff would have envied this shot, this trophy. Had this been one of their many hunting trips together, Steve could have bragged about it just to give Cliff the old needle. It was so strange now to think that this bear had eaten—
Steve banished all thoughts except for the bear in his sights. Herman, you’re going down.
The bear moved forward, pawing through the doughnuts. The chest was exposed.
Steve fired, the rifle kicking back against his shoulder. He chambered another round and had 318 in his scope again just as the bear toppled to the ground. Another round finished the kill in a matter of seconds. Somewhere in the gathering darkness he could hear Marcus hollering. The shots had been clean and true.
Steve moved for the first time, rising from the blind, his body aching and trembling. On any other hunting trip, this would have been a supreme moment. Today he felt no joy at all.
Marcus worked his way down from
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