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.
“Fuck! Thanks, man. Good shot”
“Always got your six, man,” Roadblock says, slapping me on the back of the shoulder.