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Order this writing in the collection book Life on the Edge this huge volume is available for only $2395 |
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This appears in a pre-2010 issue
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Hunting Hunters
Bob Wenger
“He’s the one,” the man using the binoculars says to himself. He sits partly concealed in a clump of brush and watches the hunter across the canyon. He lowers his binoculars, works the bolt on his rifle loading a bullet and cocking it.
Bryce, the watched man, sits on a rock with his rifle cradled across his lap. He watches the shadows trickle down the opposite canyon wall as though those shadows are draining from the canyon out onto the desert at the canyon mouth, to evaporate and return later that day. As morning dawns, birds chirp and a slight breeze rustles the leaves surrounding where he sits. Fall has arrived in the high country. The scrub oak leaves have turned different shades of red and the few aspens are starting to turn yellow.
Bryce hiked from his camp in the next canyon, Dry Canyon, over the ridge behind him to this canyon before daybreak. He used a flashlight to see the trail that led out of the canyon and over the ridge. The temperature last night was near freezing, making it necessary for Bryce to wear a heavy coat. That heavy coat now serves as a cushion between the rock and his butt. The temperature will rise as the sun peeks over Deseret Peak to the east at the canyon head. Today will be another mild, calm day with a clear, pale blue sky, typical of fall in these mountains of Western Utah. Temperatures here at 9,000 to 10,000 ft. should be around 50 degrees again today.
Bryce sits in the Stansbury Mountains for the start of Utah’s annual deer hunt. He took a few days off work and drove his Jeep Wrangler to Dry Canyon on the western slope of the Stansburys, where he made camp. He drove from Salt Lake City Utah, located sixty miles to the east. Bryce lives in an apartment on the Avenues, an older section of Salt Lake City near the State Capitol building. He has lived in the apartment for over a year since his divorce—she got the house.
The Stansbury Mountains are a small mountain range running north and south. Skull Valley, part of the Great Salt Lake Desert, is to the west and Tooele Valley is to the east. Deseret Peak is the tallest mountain within the range at 12,000 ft.
Bryce scouted his observation point in this canyon the day before after he made camp. Dry Canyon is the only canyon with a road on the western slope. There is no water in the canyon, thus the name. He wants to hunt in this canyon, Willow Canyon, because of the stream at the canyon floor and the willows growing along the bank. He knows the amount of forage in Willow Canyon will attract more deer, especially the trophy buck he hunts. The canyon terrain is varied with large and small boulders, clumps of five or six-foot scrub oak, juniper and pinion pine with open areas of sagebrush and bunch grass. There are scatterings of Douglas fir, blue spruce and aspens. The thicker forests of spruce, fir, Ponderosa pine and aspen are farther up the canyon toward Deseret Peak. Bryce intends to go to the bigger timber later on today if he doesn’t shoot his deer early.
Bryce’s hike from the canyon to this spot was a little strenuous and he’s enjoying the rest. He isn’t out of shape although he has put on a few extra pounds since living alone and eating out a lot. He’s 6’1”, with black hair worn long. His dark skin tans easily, complements of a Native American somewhere in his past. He has brown eyes that are almost black—so dark you can’t see the pupils.
Bryce sits on the rock and relaxes while a slight breeze carries the smell of pine and sagebrush. While he rests, he’s pondering some problems developing in his life. Teresa, his ex-wife, is threatening to take him back to court in an attempt to get part of an insurance settlement he received when his parents were killed in an auto accident several years ago. Bryce is an only child and the amount is substantial. Bryce doesn’t think she has any rights to the money although they were married at the time of the accident. Her worthless, greedy new boyfriend is encouraging her to attempt to take some of the settlement.
Teresa, a pretty, petite blond with blue eyes, sits at the kitchen table doing her nails. She’s thinking about how she got into this mess. She’s willing to leave Bryce alone but Bob wants some of that insurance money and is willing to do anything he can to get it. He is soooooo lazy and figures if she can get that money, he won’t have to work.
Bob, tall and skinny with long stringy brown hair, walks into the kitchen, “That nail polish smell will knock you out.” he barks.
“Sorry,” Teresa answers. “It’s the remover, not the polish.”
“It still stinks,” he returns.
Always wanting the last word, Teresa thinks.
“I’d like to use some of it on that ex-husband of yours and knock him out,” Bob boasts. “Why does he think he can keep all that money? It’s a community property state and you have every right to some of it. Even your lawyer says so.”
“I’m not so sure,” she answers. “I’d like some of it but his name is the only one on the policy.”
“What about his life insurance? Are you still the beneficiary?” Bob questions.
“I don’t know for sure. I think so. He doesn’t have anyone else to leave it to and I don’t think he’s that mad at me,” Teresa answers as she looks down at her nails avoiding his gaze.
“Do you think it’s finished?” Bob replies.
Teresa looks at him thinking you’ve completely changed the subject again, like you always do.
“What?” she asks with a puzzled look.
“You know?”
“I hope so,” she states, suddenly realizing what he’s talking about.
Bryce is also having problems at work and has a sinking feeling in his stomach when he thinks about returning. The problems center around his inspector job. He works for the government and accepts aircraft parts manufactured by a company that sells the parts to the government. The parts are installed into a top-secret and expensive aircraft. His supervisors recently ordered him to accept defective parts. This is contrary to his ethics and his position as an inspector. Bryce suspects his managers want to be hired by the contractor into lucrative positions after they retire from the government. They are willing to ignore the problems to please the contractor.
He’s considering taking his concerns to higher government officials. He knows he will be protected as a “whistle blower” and he also knows working conditions will become very difficult if he does. He will eventually lose his job on some other pretense, or will resign because of harassment.
Bryce is so fed up with work that he called his boss before he came to the mountains and left a voicemail telling him he wouldn’t be back for at least a week, maybe two. He originally planned to hunt on the weekend but changed his mind. He might not have a job when he returns but he doesn’t care.
Charlie, Bryce’s boss, sits at his desk even though it’s Saturday. He came to work to finish up some paperwork or he wouldn’t be here on a Saturday. Charlie is a skinny weasel of a man that has smoked most of his life. At least when he’s here on a weekend, he can smoke at his desk. He’s never been happy with the smoking regulations implemented years ago making smokers go outside to smoke.
After listening to Bryce’s message on his voicemail he speaks to his voicemail, “You won’t be in for a week? So what, I don’t think you’ll ever come back. That will make things a whole lot easier. I’ll fix you trying to mess with my retirement plans.”
Tyler, not the name on his forged Utah driver’s license or deer hunting permit, is the man crouched in the scrub-oak watching Bryce. Tyler is located half a mile away and lower down the canyons opposite slope. Tyler drove to the mouth of Willow Canyon yesterday and hiked up the canyon along the stream to this vantage point. He spent a cold night on the mountain but has food, water and warm clothing along with his Remington 7mm. magnum rifle. He drove six hundred miles to the mountains from Las Vegas, where he works as a part-time waiter in whichever casino is paying the most money at the time he returns from business trips like this.
Tyler is the exact opposite of the man he watches. He has short blond hair and blue eyes and at 5’8”, is shorter. Tyler is also a killer. He watches Bryce excitedly and with anticipation. He was in Vietnam for two tours of duty and killed many Viet Cong during the war. When he was sent home after the fall of Siagon, he decided he enjoyed killing so much that he would continue. He set a macabre goal to kill a person in every state of the union. Most people would be satisfied visiting every state in the union, not Tyler. He not only wanted to visit each state, but also wanted to kill someone while he was visiting and take something from that person to add to his collection. He has recently started this gruesome quest and was successful in a couple of western states. He knew deer hunting was the perfect opportunity for his unusual desires. He had read that hunters are accidentally shot and killed or wounded by stray bullets almost every hunting season. He used hunting to accomplish his goal in California and his home state of Nevada. He has a ring and engraved watch for trophies.
Soon after his return from Viet Nam, Tyler advertised in national hunting magazines as a mercenary. He decided he would fight in wars throughout the world and get paid for it. That would satisfy his desire to kill. It didn’t matter where or for whom he was killing. He would fight on the side paying the most money. He reasoned there were always conflicts in Asia, Africa or South America, he would go where and when needed, anywhere in the world. He has a valid passport and can travel anywhere except into some communist countries.
Tyler was surprised the first time someone answered his ad. The person didn’t want to hire him as a mercenary but instead wanted him to assassinate someone in his home state of Nevada. Tyler decided it must have something to do with the gambling industry but it really didn’t matter, as long as he was paid. After that successful job, he began taking assassination jobs to meet his new goal of killing in every state. He only accepted jobs in a state he hadn’t killed in. He now advertised as a problem solver, if you have a problem, he could solve it by any means necessary.
This assassination request had been sent to him a month ago. He sent the requester a picture of himself and other vital statistics including age, weight, height and description of his car. The contract had him receiving $10,000 in cash up front with another $15,000 after he sends an I.D. from the victim. A week later, the cash, information about the target, a forged Utah driver’s license, phony car registration and Utah license plates appeared in his post office box. The hunt began the next day after he quit his job and drove to Utah.
Bryce notices another hunter across the canyon watching him. The man sits concealed in some brush. He wears the required florescent hunting vest but is still difficult to see. Bryce realizes there probably won’t be any deer on that side of the canyon with a hunter in the area, he may as well go back over the ridge and see if he can spot one in Dry Canyon.
Bryce stands up, turns and starts climbing the slope toward the ridge. He tops the ridge, hears something running through the brush behind him and sees a buck burst out of some scrub oak and run over the ridge. Before he can raise his gun, he hears a shot from behind him. Instantly, something tugs at his coat sleeve and stings his arm. “What the...” Bryce shouts as he dives over the ridge and hunkers down below the ridge line. Bryce realizes he’s been shot. That hunter must have been watching the deer when Bryce thought he was watching him. When Bryce moved, it spooked the deer and the hunter fired. Bryce, shaking a little, takes off his coat and shirt and sees the bullet has nicked the skin on his left arm below the armpit. It passed between his side and upper arm. The wound is only a scratch. He wonders if he should yell at the hunter. It was certainly an accident and he isn’t hurt badly. Besides, if he sticks his head back over the ridge, the hunter might think the deer has doubled back and take another shot at him. He decides to return to camp and put antiseptic and a dressing on the scratch and forget about it.
The next morning, Bryce walks along a trail a mile further up Dry Canyon. It’s another beautiful day for deer hunting. The sun is shining and the wind is calm with an occasional slight breeze rustling the aspen leaves and causing the pines to sigh. It is very peaceful and Bryce enjoys his hike. A couple of squawking crows are flying above and occasionally he hears the cry of a hawk circling higher up. The pine and aspen forest is thicker at this altitude due to more moisture in the form of rain and snow falling as the clouds rise and cool. He walks quietly, then stops and remains still, listening and watching for any moving deer. Bryce walks tentatively. He is still a little wary remembering yesterday’s close call.
Suddenly, he hears a shot fired from above and behind him. The bullet hits a rock beyond Bryce, the whining bullet ricochets away into the woods. Bryce instinctively ducks and takes cover in some brush. “That was another close one,” he mutters. Another accident? Are deer moving my way and is another hunter shooting at them?
Bryce moves off into the trees and hunkers down to wait and see if a deer moves into the range of his gun.
Bryce sits concealed in the scrub oak. He hasn’t seen any deer or other hunters. While he is uncomfortably squatting in the brush, he considers the two close calls in as many days. Bryce is beginning to think that these shots aren’t accidental. Maybe someone is shooting at him purposely. If so, who and why?
Bryce had a similar close call while hunting several years ago. He was walking along a ridge when a hunter across the canyon shot at a deer that ran over the ridge in front of Bryce. The bullets sounded like angry bees as they passed over Bryce’s head. He dropped on the trail and yelled, “There’s another hunter up here.” The person that shot yelled back and asked Bryce to go down into the canyon and look for the deer. Bryce yelled back, “You missed him, he ran over the ridge. Look for yourself.” He apparently didn’t believe Bryce so as Bryce watched; the other hunter hiked to the canyon bottom, and then began climbing Bryce’s side of the canyon. Bryce continued hiking along the top of the canyon, but well below the ridgeline.
After a few minutes, Bryce becomes bored sitting and waiting. He moves out of the brush and continues his hike up the canyon moving slowly and staying in as much cover as he can find. He hopes there won’t be any more bullets coming anywhere near him for the rest of the hunt.
Santos drives his old beat-up pickup truck with the weathered cab-over camper into Dry Canyon. It sways like an old tugboat in a rough sea, rattling and banging as it bounces from rock to rock. He makes slow progress. He hopes the truck and camper will hold together until he finds a turn-off into a side canyon or a place where he can conceal his truck in the scrub oak and pinion pine.
Santos is a tall, dark complexioned Hispanic who wears a full black beard. He was, until recently, working on farms in the valley east of the mountains. The crops are harvested and his wages spent. He needs money. When Santos needs cash, he steals anything he can, pawning or selling the stolen goods.
Although he will be deer hunting for the food it will provide, Santos will be scouting other camps in the canyon with the intent of robbing unattended camps. He hopes to steal anything of value such as camp stoves, lanterns and coolers. Food in coolers will be a bonus. His camper, which he lives in, isn’t well stocked with provisions. Santos knows most people will lock their valuable items such as guns and cameras in their vehicles. He also knows it isn’t unusual for a door on a truck or car to be accidentally left unlocked while the hunter or hunters are out chasing deer. If he finds something really valuable, he will be out of the canyon immediately, like a lottery winner rushing to cash in the winning ticket.
He passed one camp on the drive into the canyon and hoped there are more farther up the road. He will find them while he’s hunting.
Bryce sits in his camp that night near the campfire, enjoying the warmth and hypnotic dancing flames. His propane lantern provides additional light. He’s thinking about the near misses of the last couple of days and how lucky he is to be able to sit here in the quiet and enjoy watching the clear night sky, containing thousands of stars splashed across the deep black of space. He hears coyotes yipping in the distance, barking at the half moon that casts a silvery glow around camp. The coyotes suddenly stop barking while a cloud passes across the moon as though they are startled by the sudden darkening.
Suddenly, the crack of a rifle shot echoes up and down the canyon. Bryce hears a thump behind him as the side of his canvas tent is forced inward, followed by a loud clang as something metal is hit. Bryce instinctively dives and rolls until he is away from the fire and lantern light. He scrambles on his hands and knees farther away from camp and sits among boulders and brush.
“That shot was no accident,” he talks to the night. Whoever fired that isn’t deer hunting. It’s too dark.
Hours later, after the campfire has died, Bryce throws a rock at the lantern still casting it’s light around camp. He misses on the first throw but connects on the second, breaking the glass chimney and knocking the mantel away. The light dies. There is still a soft hiss as the propane escapes. He hurries into camp, grabs his rifle, his coat and, after stuffing some food and a bottle of water into a backpack, shoulders it and leaves camp. He pauses to turn off the lantern; he doesn’t want to start a forest fire if a stray ember were to blow near the lantern. He climbs the canyon slope away from his camp until he is far up the mountain.
When he’s well up the mountain and away from camp, he pauses and looks behind him toward camp. He is now almost convinced there have been three attempts on his life. If the shooter is trying to kill him, he’s a terrible shot. If he’s trying to scare Bryce, he’s doing a good job. Bryce decides, after some more thought, rather than run which was his first idea, he will fight back and first find the other hunter’s camp or vehicle then go from there. He wants to find something to show him who is stalking him and why. He thinks it’s the hunter he saw on the first day of the deer hunt.
Bryce remembers there’s a parking area at the mouth of Willow Canyon. Since he saw the other hunter in Willow Canyon, he might locate the man’s vehicle in the parking lot.
Bryce hikes out of Dry Canyon that night, using the light of the half-moon to help guide him. He didn’t want to drive. The hunter might know Bryce’s vehicle and be watching for his Jeep. He walks and jogs following the road, a pale path that stretches ahead of him, illuminated by the moon and bordered by the darker trees and brush. He cuts cross-country after he’s out of the canyon and hikes along the mountain base to the parking lot. There’s one car in the lot, a white Ford Taurus. Bryce notices the Utah license plates on the car. They’re wrong. These are truck plates with three numbers, then three letters. Car plates in Utah have two letters, followed by four numbers.
After donning rubber surgical gloves he uses to clean deer, Bryce bashes the passenger side window in with a rock, opens the door, uses the rock to shatter the dome light and, using the flashlight he brought, rummages through the Ford. The glove compartment holds a Utah car registration with the right characters but the wrong sequence, like the plate. The name on the registration is Wayne Smith. The only other interesting item is a crumpled receipt lying on the floor of the back seat, a gas receipt from a 7-11 in Las Vegas. The name on the receipt is Tyler Brown.
“Is that your real name?” Bryce speaks out loud. Have you driven from Las Vegas with stolen license plates and a forged registration to kill or scare me for some reason and make it look like a hunting accident? Are you here on your own or has someone sent you?
Bryce finds no answers in the Taurus. I’ll find answers, he thinks. “Tyler, if that’s your name, I’m coming after you!” he says with narrowed eyes and a set jaw as he looks to the east at the shadow of Deseret Peak.
While Bryce is hiking out of the canyon, Tyler sits in the dark among the trees a quarter mile from Bryce’s camp. He’s thinking he can’t believe his bad luck. The shot he took on the first day as the man crossed the ridge appeared to hit him right in the back, but when Tyler crossed the canyon to collect a token from his kill, the man was gone. Tyler must have just missed. Shooting uphill obviously spoiled his aim.
The second time he shot as the man hiked up the canyon, the bullet must have gone right over his head and hit a rock. Tyler remembers hearing the ricochet. After a short hike and reaching the area where the body should have been, like the day before, the man was gone. That shot had been downhill and that bullet must have gone a little high.
The shot tonight was a total screw-up. Tyler was confused by the shadows that were dancing around camp cast by the moon, the campfire and the lantern. He must have targeted the man’s shadow on the tent. After shooting, he waited a while then moved closer to the camp. There was enough light to show there was no dead body and for the third time, the target was gone. His Jeep was still parked near the camp but the camp was empty.
Tyler moves deeper into the trees to wait. He’ll watch the camp and decide how to finish this, especially if the hunted is now aware he is being hunted.
Bryce returns to the area of his camp late that night. He slowly and quietly moves among the trees to wait for dawn. He is sitting fifty yards from his camp and a hundred yards from where Tyler sits on the opposite side of the canyon. There isn’t a lot to see, only a few dying embers from the campfire. It is still quite dark. The half moon has almost set in the west but is still casting some light. There’s enough light to see movement but not much else.
Bryce thinks about the situation. When the sun comes up, he might be able to see Tyler if Tyler is also watching his camp. It will make him feel good to send a shot Tyler’s way for a change. He’s not sure he wants to kill Tyler, maybe just nick him like he nicked Bryce the other day. If Tyler knows he’s also being hunted, maybe he’ll leave the canyon and go back to Vegas.
Bryce is glad he brought his coat and backpack. It’s cold and the small amount of food he brought feels good in his stomach. He’s tired. It was a long hike to and from the parking lot. He’s thinking what a heck of a night it’s been. He’s been shot at again. He’s been scrambling around in the dirt and walking his butt off to end up right back at his camp. Now he has to sit in the cold instead of laying warm in his sleeping bag.
Bryce lies back against the hill and dozes off.
The next morning, Santos walks along the Dry Canyon road. He saw a camp yesterday that looked promising. The camp was back in the trees in a little clearing. There was a new Jeep Wrangler parked there but nobody around even though it was near sundown. He intends to scout the camp again today and if he still sees no one, he will raid it.
He stops in the trees, takes off his bright hunting vest and watches the camp. It’s quiet except for the birds chirping and a slight breeze rustling the trees. There isn’t any movement in or near the camp. He enters the camp. He notices the lantern has been knocked over and wonders why? He thinks maybe the wind blew it. He doesn’t think he’ll take it since it’s broken. He walks into the tent after slowly easing the flap aside. The owner of the camp could still be sleeping. Once inside, he sees the tent is unoccupied and rummages through Bryce’s things. He finds a nice red flannel-hunting shirt that should fit perfectly. After putting on the shirt, he looks through the rest of the tent. “There isn’t anything here worth anything camper,” he speaks to the unknown owner of the camp. “I’ll look in your Jeep if it’s open.”
Santos leaves the tent. He bends down to have another look at the lantern and is shot in the back. The bullet breaks his spine and fragments lodge in his heart, killing him instantly. He falls face down across the lantern and lies still. The birds quit chirping and remain quiet while the shot echoes up and down the canyon. The dead deaf ears of Santos no longer can hear even the echoes.
Bryce is suddenly alert. There’s someone in his camp. He can see a man moving around. Bryce didn’t see where he came from. He was suddenly there, looking around camp. The man enters Bryce’s tent. After a couple of minutes, the visitor leaves the tent wearing one of Bryce’s shirts.
Are you Tyler? he thinks. He raises his rifle and watches the man through the scope.
Before Bryce can consider what to do, a shot cracks and the man falls face down on the ground. The way he falls, immediately and then not moving, indicates he is killed instantly. Bryce can’t believe what he sees. He lowers his gun. Could I have accidentally fired? He doesn’t remember chambering a round, which would have cocked the rifle. He checks the gun, and it’s not cocked. The safety is still on.
Who are you if not Tyler? Who killed you? he wonders.
“Tyler,” he speaks softly. “You screwed up man, you thought that guy was me.”
It’s time to finish this, he thinks as he hunkers down into the brush.
“Lets see if you show yourself, Tyler,” he whispers with a little smile.
Tyler is also watching Santos though he didn’t notice him until Santos walked back out of the tent. Tyler was also napping after his long night of watching.
Is that the same man? he asks himself. That has to be him. “Come on, turn around so I can get a better look at you,” he quietly speaks to the man in camp.
When Santos bends down to look at the tipped over lantern, Tyler decides to shoot. He quickly chambers a bullet, raises his rifle and pulls the trigger. He watches the man fall face down. The rifle shot echoes up and down the canyon as he slowly lowers his rifle. “Good shot,” he tells himself. “His blood-soaked shirt with my bullet hole in it will make a nice trophy.”
Tyler scrambles down the slope and walks into Bryce’s camp. He bends over, grabs a shoulder and rolls the man over to look at his face. He sees this guy has a beard.
I don’t remember the man I’ve been watching having a beard, he thinks. Could this be this man’s camp I’ve been watching for two days? Or have I shot the wrong man?
Tyler feels the first rush of panic; he realizes that he may have made a terrible mistake and better get away quickly. He looks up as he hears the sound of a rifle shot the same time a bullet tears through his throat, spinning him around and knocking him on his back. The bullet knocks him temporarily unconscious, breaks his throat box and cuts his carotid artery.
Tyler slowly comes awake. He can’t turn his head and can only stare straight up at the sky.
What happened? He realizes he has been shot and is dying. He begins to cry.
He senses someone in camp. A shadow falls across him. A shaded face appears looking down at him. Tyler thinks it’s the man he’s been hunting. He tries to beg for help but can only grunt as his blood drains down his neck, soaking the ground under his head.
As soon as Tyler falls, Bryce jumps up and starts running and sliding down the slope toward his camp, raising a cloud of dust as he hurries, rocks and dirt cascading down around him. He slowly walks into camp with his rifle cocked. He walks to where Tyler has fallen, purposely keeping the sun behind him so the man will only see a shadow. Tyler is grunting and gurgling as he stares at the shadowed face above him.
“Who are you?” Bryce asks when the man stops grunting. “Are you Tyler?”
The man on the ground appears to nod.
“Why are you hunting me?” Bryce speaks. “Who sent you?”
Tyler can’t respond. Bryce notices his eyes have a fixed stare. He is dead.
Bryce walks to the other man and looks at his lifeless face. He doesn’t recognize him. Bryce walks out of camp, squats in the shade of a large pine and looks back at the carnage. He asks himself what just happened? He thinks the man with the beard was stealing from his camp and Tyler thought he was Bryce.
“Lucky for me Tyler made a few mistakes in the last couple of days.” he speaks to himself.
Bryce gets up, walks to Tyler and rolls him over. He takes Tyler’s wallet out of his pants pocket, opens it and scans what he finds. The license is a Utah driver’s license in the name of Wayne Smith, like the Taurus registration. There are a couple of credit cards with the same name. The only thing of interest is an appointment card for a psychiatrist in Las Vegas. Only the doctor’s name is on the card.
Bryce walks back under the pines and squats down. He must think.
A while later, he walks back into camp, goes into his tent and puts on more of the rubber gloves. He leaves his tent and walks to the bearded man. He picks up the man’s carbine and levers the handle loading a shell. He shoots Tyler in the stomach and puts the rifle back near the bearded man’s hand. Bryce hopes that whoever finds these two will think there was a shootout and both lost. Now there will be a bullet in each one from the other’s gun. The fact that one of them was shot in the back may confuse the authorities but it doesn’t matter as long as they don’t figure out there was a third person involved. Bryce looked at Tyler’s wound and saw that the bullet that killed him passed through his throat and is now somewhere in the dirt beyond camp. He doubts it will be found.
Bryce leaves his camp intact. He takes his personal items and anything that could identify him and loads his Jeep. He wipes everything he touched that might hold a print.
After loading, he turns and surveys the camp one more time. The two bodies lay where they have fallen. Bryce hopes someone comes along well after he leaves but before the crows and coyotes do too much damage to the corpses.
He has taken one thing from Tyler, the appointment card. He will stop at Tyler’s Ford Taurus and take the gas receipt from the station in Las Vegas. He may find something else in the car now that the sun is up. He will drive to Las Vegas after stopping at his apartment and packing some things. He is going to find out who Tyler is and where he lives in Vegas. He will attempt to discover why Tyler was either sent here to Utah or came on his own. Bryce hopes that someone at the doctor’s office can help or someone at the gas station will remember the man that drove the white Ford Taurus. Hopefully, the gas station and doctor’s office are near Tyler’s place and he was a regular customer.
He has already asked for a couple of weeks off work so that won’t be a problem. Besides, if Charlie is somehow involved in this, he won’t be going back to that job without some Federal cops.
While driving back into Salt Lake City, Bryce decides to stop at his old house. He wants to see the look on Teresa and Bob’s faces when he shows up on their doorstep. If they had anything to do with sending Tyler after him, they might have a strange reaction when he appears.
Bryce drives up in front of the house, parks the Jeep and walks to the front door. He rings the bell and waits. He can hear someone approaching from the back of the house. Teresa opens the door and stares at Bryce with the startled look he thought he might see.
“What are you doing here?” she asks him through the screen door. “I thought you were hunting?”
“I haven’t left yet.” he answers. “I need to get some stuff out of the basement. Can I come in?”
“I don’t think Bob wants you here. Maybe I better get it for you.”
“Where is the bum? I need to see him.” Bryce answers.
“I heard that,” Bob says as he walks down the hall with a cold stare directed at Bryce.
“What do you want?” he asks as he stops behind Teresa.
“Tyler sent me,” Bryce says.
“Who?”
“Tyler, or Wayne, some guy from Vegas I met hunting.”
Bob and Teresa both stare with open mouths. The color has drained out of Teresa’s face.
“I thought you said you hadn’t left yet?” Teresa states with a little quiver in her voice.
“I lied,” Bryce answers.
“Hey Bob”, he adds, “still interested in trying to get that inheritance money? Forget it or the cops are going to find out who Tyler is, or was, and who sent him.”
Bryce turns his back on them and casually walks down the sidewalk. He decides he won’t have to go to Vegas after all.
