Jericho glanced at the wanted poster on the bulletin board as he emerged from the bar.  The chili lights lining the stairwell dangled darkly at eight in the morning, but the lights in the basement glared bright and synthetic while Doreen cleaned.  He squinted at the mugshot on the poster.  The man stared back, pallid face annoyed under his thick, unkempt beard.

Jericho never met Brian, but rumors travel fast in a small town.  He seemed like exactly the kind of guy to snap and run into the forest to live the rugged, manly life of his dreams or die trying.  A real alpha wolf, that one, teeth at his omega’s throat and all.  He made a mental note to load his handgun before setting out into the backcountry.  It never hurt to be careful, even if Doreen knew where he was going and when to call the forest service.

The van rumbled to a stop on the side of a forest service road near the start of an old hunter’s trail.  It started at the end of the clearing, just out of sight among the trees.  He hoisted his bag and began the long walk up to Pinyon Ridge.  The back route wound up the side of the mountain and off the beaten path, away from the prying eyes and flashing cameras of the tourists Cobalt Peak attracted each summer.  

He checked his starmap and weather notes.  The path of sattelites traced in red ink alongside the locations of the planets and major constellations.  The map was only a sheet of printer paper, but the information crammed in from corner to corner assured him that he would be in the right place at the right time when he reached his destination.  Jericho checked the location of the morning sun in the sky before he dipped beneath the canopy of pine trees that scattered the light in idyllic patches.

Cicadas serenaded him.  His shadow vanished beneath his feet and stretched east before he stopped for some trailmix on an outcropping of boulders overlooking a meadow nestled in the V of a steep valley.  A gust of wind whistled through the passage, grass rippling in the meadow below.

An elk tiptoed into the clearing from the edge of the trees on the opposite slope, taking her tentative steps onto the grass with her ears perked up for threats.  Behind her, three more followed.  They spread out in a loose clump.  Jericho watched them graze, the sun encouraging him to doze for a minute or two before starting off down the path again.   

He perked up when the elk down in the meadow snapped to attention.  The animals in the trees around him went silent.  The elk froze, all eyes fixed on a point in the forest.  They scattered.  Something large charged from the woods and descended upon an elk, her hooves kicking up dirt as she scrambled for freedom.  Her sisters bounded away in panic while she screamed, the sound dissipating to an eerie wail.  Jericho gaped at the ravenous beast below.  It’s body contorted as it fed, flesh pulled taut over bone.  Hair covered it in patchy clumps, the skin beneath angry red like a bad sunburn.  

It tore at the carcass of the elk with its front paws and buried its snout in the body cavity, emerging red with gore.  Jericho thought better of watching the scene and picked his way off the boulder, careful to break any line of sight the creature -- a mangy bear, maybe? -- might have had with him.  He crept away in the silent forest, following the trail at a quick clip, and planned to trap his campsite.  He reached for the can of bear spray attached to his belt and held it close, noting the weight of the gun strapped to his thigh.  He had loaded it, right?

Far from the meadow, Jericho sat back and gazed up at the sunset. Tripwires strung between tree trunks caught the dying light. His food pack was hoisted into a tree, his tent pitched on a boulder, and his collapsible telescope was set up and pointed in the direction of Orion's Belt.  Venus sat bright on the horizon as stars appeared in the void above.  The milky way made its appearance, untainted by the lights of civilization.  He took note of the approximate time of sunset and laid back to watch the sky with his gun and bear spray close at hand.

Crickets chirped.  Jericho sunk into the universe spread out before him.  A satellite crossed the sky, drifting from one horizon to another.  In the distance, the lights of an airplane blinked.  He’d begun dozing off when the forest around him went quiet.

Jericho grabbed for his bear spray and a flashlight, the beam of light probing the dark forest surrounding him.  Something rustled in the trees. The long shadows shifted with each twitch of his hands.  The beam of light flew up as he removed the safety cap from the bear spray.  He pointed at the trees again, this time using the beam of the flashlight to aim the bear spray the way the rangers had taught him.

Two green eyes flashed as light passed over them.  The creature winced, eyes squinting.  A low growl rose in its throat.  It took a heavy step forward, eyes locked on the light in Jericho’s hands, and heaved out a snarl. It plowed through the tripwires.  Bells rang. Sticks knocked together in woody cocophony.  Its eyes gleamed, mad and rolling with every heavy fall of its paws.  The earth shuddered beneath its approach.

Jericho sucked in a breath.  “Shit,” he hissed, pulling the trigger of the bear spray the moment before he rolled backwards off the boulder and out of the beast’s path.

The monster screamed like a man in pain.  It crashed into his tent and tangled in the polyester fabric, flexible poles snapping into spears as it flailed.  It pawed at its face and roared again, one of the tent poles embedded in the rippling muscle of its back.  Jericho couldn't parse the look he saw in the whites of its eyes.  Its voice rose in discordant frustration as Jericho fled, looking back over his shoulder as he tried to catch a better look at the thing without being mauled.

Jericho slid down the steep hill towards Kippling Creek.  The beast raged behind him, but grew distant as it lost his scent.  A pang of regret for his gear nagged at his mind as he reached the creek and sloshed his way into it.  He drew his gun and held it above his head as he walked downstream to keep it from getting waterlogged.  After nearly falling in the strength of the current twice, he crossed the river and started to shove his way through the vegetation along the bank. He kept his path only by the sound of the water rushing beside him, and walked in the dark.

The morning sun rose on Jericho, muddy and scraped, his boots squelching with each step he took along the highway where it crossed Kippling Creek.  He held out his thumb for a passing car that sped on by, coating him with another cloud of dust.  He came to a pull-off overlooking a mountain valley and sat down on the guardrail to rest his aching legs.  Jericho breathed in the exhaust and dust of the road.  He didn’t look up when wheels crunched over the gravel as a pickup slowed to a stop.

“Hey crazy,” the mountain of a woman grunted, rolling out of her car, “you okay?”

Jericho looked up at her and recognized Jules Begay, the local handywoman.  He wiped the dirt from his face. “Jules, you’re a sight for sore eyes.  I just need a ride back to town, if you’re going that way.”

“Yeah, I’m headed down,” she gestured to the pickup with her chin, “hop in back.  Got Mister with me,” the black and tan mutt stuck his thick head out the drivers side window and panted at Jericho, “Where d’you need to get?”

Jericho sucked a breath in through his teeth as he stood up and his blisters protested.  “Janie’s -- er, no, the police station.  Deputy, or… Tanner, or something… will give me a ride home from there.  Dora won’t be at work yet.”

She grunted.  “If you say so.”

Jericho clambered into the back and laid back against the side of the flatbed.  Jules closed the back gate and smiled at him.  She gave him another look over, taking in his wet boots and sweat stained shirt.

“Want a puff?” She asked, offering him a hand-rolled spliff from the pocket of her flannel shirt.

“Oh, God, please.” Jericho reached for it and she lit it with a novelty lighter shaped like a naked woman.  He relaxed as the combination of nicotine and weed washed over him.

She started the pickup and pulled onto the highway, Mister sticking his head out the window.  Jericho puffed on the cigarette and watched Lost Time Curve come and go in wisps of smoke on his way down the mountain.