Hunted by Chaos
John surveyed the scene before him with piercing blue eyes. The high ridge on which he now stood provided a good view of the forest below. He knew they were down there somewhere but the trees obstructed any sign of them. He tucked his radio into his backpack and shook his shaggy brown mane.
"How do I get myself into these situations?" John asked himself aloud.
Rusty, his dog just looked at him while panting happily. He was a well trained Akita. John's friend had pulled some strings to get Rusty into the police K9 training facility. He was a highly intelligent animal, but more than that he was John's best friend.
"Not the answer I was looking for." he chided the dog who wagged his tail at the attention he was receiving.
He pulled out the binoculars and scanned the woods. It took him a few minutes of careful study, but he was able to see a little cabin a few miles away. It would take them about two hours to descend to the forest floor and then another hour or so to reach the cabin. If he didn't get much fuss from them, he would be able to make it back to town in time for dinner with Kelly.
Pulling out his canteen he took a swallow of water and then poured some out for Rusty who lapped it up greedily. He had been out here since yesterday trying to catch these guys and now he was so close. Given the terrain he had actually made really good time. It was rugged country, most of it rocky with very little soil. Still the trees thrived; clinging to whatever dirt was available. The large coniferous trees grew tall and close together on the ridge, while huge oak and maple trees covered the valley below. John found it amazing nature could flourish in such harsh conditions.
The cool crisp air burned his lungs and yet he was sweating from the exertion of the climb. This was the eighth ridge he'd climbed searching for these idiots. He was annoyed at having to drag himself this far out of the way because some inconsiderate jerks couldn't follow the rules.
"Well Rusty, we better go if we want to have a good dinner tonight."
Rusty jumped to his feet and followed John down the tricky slope. The pair hopped from boulder to boulder as they wove their way down the steep ridge. Rusty's fur was rust colored, hence his name. It made him hard to find when they were in the bush since fall had changed the leaves of the deciduous trees to reds, oranges and yellows. His white feet were now covered with mud from their long trek, and his fur was coated in dirt and grime, making him practically invisible. John figured he'd look pretty much the same given a mirror. Mental note to shower before going to see Kelly, she didn't like it when he came home looking like a wild man. He couldn't help but smile at the image of her wrinkling her nose at his stench; she always looked so cute when she did that.
They were about three quarters of the way down the steep slope when John lost his footing.
He grasped for a handhold as he began sliding.
He grabbed hold of a plant just as he slid off the face of a large boulder.
Dangling by the flimsy weed, he could see the hundred feet below.
He tried to reach his other hand up but the plant began to pull out of the rocky surface.
If he could just get his grip, he would have time to come up with a plan.
Rusty appeared above, announcing his concern with a loud bark.
John jumped in surprise as Rusty rarely barked.
His hand slipped loose and he fell.
John felt himself bouncing out of control down the bedrock knowing this was probably the end.
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