Into the Rockies
Chapter 3
Amelia Whittspar sat in her recliner watching public television on her old tv before she her a loud knock at the door.
“Who could that be?” She wondered as she rolled out of her chair and waddled to the door. She opened it to see her landlord, Mr. McClay standing on her porch, armed, with his growling pit bull by his side.
“I’m all paid up for the month!” She blurted nervously. What else could the landlord be so upset about besides overdo rent money?
“This ain’t about that!” He said abruptly. “Two of my fluffies have gone missin. A pink female and green male alicorn. Have you seen em?”
“No.” Amelia replied. “But I’ll call if I see anything.” She said, slowly closing the door.
“See that you do.” McClay grumped as the door shut before him.
That was the last of all the trailers, and no one had seen a damn thing. The landlord wiped his brow and spit in disgust as he stood out in the dusty dirt driveway. He was sure those dumb ponies would have ran right into the arms of someone in the park, hoping for sanctuary. And no one would be dumb enough to hide them from him, knowing full well he’d bring the hammer down on anyone who dared to mess with his business.
“Shit!” Joe cursed aloud as he kicked the dirt.
Think, dammit, THINK! The man thought to himself. If they didn’t go into the trailer park, their only other option would be to head…
“Into the Rockies…” McClay said with a cold stare as he looked up at the mountain looming above him.
If that were the case then they couldn’t have gotten far. Joe thought. Damn, those dumb ponies better not have gotten themselves eaten!
He whistled for Bessie before jogging back to his trailer. He printed out a picture of the fluffies from his old pc and wrote on it in black marker. He had originally planned on using the picture for advertising but now it had a new use.
IF SEEN CALL JOE MCCLAY - 555-6166
He taped the picture to the outside of his front door in case anyone came looking for him while he was out. He was about to step outside before stopping himself as his hand felt his Ruger .45 in its holster. He might need something bigger if he was going to be up alone in the Rockies.
He decided on a full outfit change. He put on his hunting camouflage gear and dawned his cowboy hat and sunglasses to deter the sun. He put on his combat hiking boots and slid his favorite buck knifes into them. He put his Ruger Redhawk away and holstered his FNX 45 Semi Auto instead. It wasn’t as heavy or menacing looking, but much more lightweight and tactical when it came to stopping animals in their tracks.
But it wasn’t just about weapons; he needed to think about survival as well. He grabbed his compass, his mini first aid kit, and his mini fire starting kit. He stashed some jerky and cheese in his pocket as well in case he was out long enough to skip a few meals. He also grabbed a fanny pack and loaded it with extra ammo and a can of spaghetti; something he might need as bait to lure the fluffies out in case they had found a safe hiding spot that was out of reach.
Finally, he slung his Mossberg 590 Shockwave 7-Shot Pump-Action Shotgun over his shoulder just in case he ran into any serious trouble. Predators were the kings of the mountains and Joe knew better than to underestimate them by being unprepared.
Joseph McClay exited the backdoor of his house looking like a badass hunter ready to take on the wildness without fear. He stuck a fat pinch of chewing tobacco into his lip before stepping into the sun, then went into the backyard to begin his investigation.
He had to be carful here. He brought his cattle prod with him just in case. The dogs he had chained up and caged in the back weren’t normal animals. They were vicious monsters trained for fighting. They’d kill just about anything that came within range, which he and Bessie both made sure to stay out of.
The two slowly made their way to the pony cage in the back of the yard, safely caged off from the other animals. Joe grabbed Bessie’s scruff and shoved her head into the small wooden shelter where the ponies had lived.
“Get their scent girl!” The man encouraged. “Go on girl! Smell em good!”
Although she was a pit bull, a breed not normally used for hunting, she had been fully trained by Joe’s brother Cain; a hound trainer that was the best in Rocky Foot. She knew what “get the scent” meant, and was eager to oblige.
Unfortunately for the fluffies, the mare had given birth the night before and left a whole mess of blood and other strong scent behind. The dog filled her nostrils with it and was soon howling excitedly, a sign that she had the scent. Joe unlocked the back gate and let her go barreling out, sniffing around excitedly in hopes of finding a trail.
She sniffed the hole that the ponies had dug under the fence and howled again.
“We know that much already, you idiot!” McClay growled. “Find out where they went from there!”
Bessie seemed to understand and continued to sniff around. She headed up towards the woods with her master closely behind.
“And the hunt begins.” Joe said cooly as he marched out into the Rocky Mountain wilderness.