Mac Walker's Hunted

MAC WALKER’S

  HUNTED

  (A Short Story)

  By: D.W. ULSTERMAN

  Copyright 2013

  Other titles available from D.W. Ulsterman:

  -MAC WALKER'S BENGHAZI: The Complete Collection

  -MAC WALKER'S BETRAYAL: The Collection

  -MAC WALKER'S BULLET

  -MAC WALKER'S REGRET

  https://dwulsterman.com

  “That bear was just doing what any of us would - trying to survive. It was either him or me. We both understood that. He was long in the tooth, but still had plenty of bite. I hope to be half the fighter he was when my own time comes. No hard feelings between us. Just two warriors doing what comes natural – kill or be killed.”

  -Mac Walker

  1.

  It was nearly a year ago that Mac Walker first arrived at the isolated Alaskan wilderness location that was home to the emerging outpost he had since dubbed Dominatus. The creator of Dominatus, a Wall Street billionaire named Alexander David Meyer, his wife Adina, and their granddaughter Dublin, had made Mac welcome, and offered him the opportunity to live in freedom away from the oppressive tyranny of the New United Nations’ mandates. Freedom from a government he had once served that wanted him dead. Freedom from the corruption and lies of a world gone mad. And most important, freedom from himself – the man he once was, but was now determined to never be again.

  In addition to Mac and Alexander Meyer’s family, twenty two others called Dominatus their home. The Old Man, a term Mac had taken to calling Alexander Meyer, with the billionaire’s half smiled approval, indicated as more people learned of Dominatus, more were certain to arrive, and the continued safety and security of the outpost would fall primarily onto the combat experienced shoulders of former Navy SEAL and government gun for hire, Mackenzie Walker.

  “There are to be no free rides in this community Mr. Walker. We all are to contribute. This is no socialist utopia, but rather a place of free market opportunity where the particular skills and efforts of the individual are to be rewarded. And all of this must then be protected, for our embracing of personal freedom and liberty places us in direct violation of the New United Nations’ mandates. This violation will not be allowed to go unanswered indefinitely. Sooner, or perhaps later, they will come, and I look to you to help to make us ready for that inevitable arrival.”

  The more time he spent in the presence of the Old Man, the more Mac Walker found himself determined to protect Dominatus and everyone who called it their home. He had lost his entire team after a disastrous final mission in Benghazi, including two others who returned to the States only to have their lives snuffed out by the same government that had hired them for the assignment in the first place. Mac himself was sent to a high security federal prison, where he spent nearly four years waiting and hoping for eventual freedom. That freedom came due to the efforts of the Old Man, and a military rights attorney by the name of Finn Neeson.

  Mac Walker had failed to protect his former special operations team. He would not fail Dominatus.

  Now in his mid-50’s, his once short cropped salt and pepper hair turning a more pronounced, and thinning grey, Mac Walker was at peace with himself. Life in Dominatus was good. He had purpose, friends, a gun at his side, and freedom.

  The bear attack days earlier was the first real challenge to the safety of Dominatus since Mac Walker had arrived. Since then, multiple bear tracks had been found in and around the area of Dominatus, including just outside the cabin of the Old Man himself.

  Yoti, the Eskimo who had helped transport Mac to Dominatus last year, warned Alexander Meyer the inhabitants of their outpost were in danger. The bear appeared to be an older male grizzly struggling to feed itself enough in preparation for hibernation, and now having acquired a taste for human flesh, it was certain to explore Dominatus for more food. The bear’s victim had been a younger man in his late-20’s who was attempting to reach Dominatus after having left his hometown of Eugene, Oregon two weeks earlier.

  Trevor Pennington had been a framing contractor who, after seeing yet another construction business cripple under the weight of further regulations and taxes, set out to find an alleged village hidden in the heart of Alaska’s wilderness where, according to the online legend, people were given the opportunity to live away from the ever increasing mandates of the government.

  What was left of Pennington’s body was discovered by a group of area hunters just four miles south of Dominatus. It appeared he had been set upon from behind, his back and neck torn apart, and much of his right leg completely torn from his body. An older, bolt action Browning deer rifle was found ten yards from where Trevor Pennington lay. Two empty rounds were also found, but no indication of the bear having been shot.

  Later that night, as he sat at the small kitchen table inside of Alexander Meyer’s cabin, Mac could not explain to himself or to the Old Man why he demanded to be the one to track down and kill the bear. As a teenager, he had hunted ducks with his friends in his hometown of Carville, Louisiana, but tracking and killing a full grown male grizzly was clearly not a task for the inexperienced.

  And yet, Mac Walker’s ever present instincts informed him this was something he must do – and do alone.

  “Mr. Walker, I appreciate your willingness to take on this task, but must admit to finding it a less than intelligent one. Yoti can be back this way with a group of hunters to expedite the locating and killing of the bear. I see no reason to put yourself at such risk.”

  Mac looked across the table at the Old Man, his mind also trying to come up with any answer based in the principles of logic or even basic self-preservation.

  None came to him.

  “Mr. Meyer, I can’t say exactly why I feel the need to do this. I can only say that I have to. That bear killed someone who was walking the trail on their way to Dominatus, the very same trail I walked when I came here a year ago. Maybe I feel responsible in some way, I can’t really say. I just…I need to do this sir. I know it don’t make any sense, but that’s how I feel. And all due respect – but I’m not asking.”

  Alexander David Meyer folded his hands on the small dining table in front of him, contemplating Mac Walker’s words. He looked back at the former Navy SEAL with a mixture of admiration and concern. Certainly Dominatus could ill afford to lose the unique and very effective talents of Mr. Walker, but then again, the Old Man was just as strong in his belief that Dominatus was a place of freedom and personal liberty. If Mac wished to take on the task of protecting them from that bear, Alexander Meyer knew it was not his place to try and prevent that from happening.

  “While I can’t pretend to understand fully what is motivating you to take this on by yourself Mr. Walker, I promise everyone who arrives here that they may live their own lives as they see fit, so long as they do no harm to others. If you wish to hunt that bear, then so be it. I simply ask that you take every precaution necessary to ensure your survival. Dominatus needs you Mr. Walker, alive and well.”

  Mac stood up and nodded briefly.

  “Thank you, sir. I’m leaving at first light tomorrow. Hope to be back in a couple days. I’ll take one of the portable short waves with me to check in. Fair enough?”

  The Old Man’s thin smile indicated he still had concerns, but would offer no resistance to Mac’s determination to go after the bear.

  ‘Fair enough Mr. Walker. Fair enough…”

  2.

  Mac Walker’s conversation inside Alexander Meyer’s cabin was two days ago. Locating the bear was proving more difficult than he had anticipated. For a creature so large, it seemed more shadow than beast. Though it left ample evidence of its passing in the form of prints and piles of scat, Mac
had yet to view the creature with his own eyes.

  Interestingly, the bear seemed intent on leading Mac away from Dominatus, its travel pattern having taken the former Navy SEAL nearly twelve miles from the outpost over the last two days. The current topography was a combination of ice and snow, and patches of thick, dense brush devoid of greenery, having lost its leaves to the cold onset of another quickly approaching Alaskan winter. Mac was certain the bear was hiding within these patches of brush each night, possibly watching him as he sat by his small fire, fighting to keep himself warm.

  The night time temperature dropped well below freezing, while those same temperatures barely crept above forty degrees during the day.

  Looking into the overcast afternoon Alaskan sky, Mac determined less than an hour of daylight remained. He would be spending his third night alone in the wilderness

  “This is Walker. Come in.”

  Mac held the portable short wave transmitter to his mouth and pressed the signal button again.

  “This is Walker. Come in.”

  The Old Man’s voice crackled from within the small interior speaker of the transmission device.

  “Mr. Walker! So very glad to hear from you! Are you on your way back yet?”

  Mac stared out at the darkening landscape around him and shook his head.

  “No. I think I’m close to the bear, but have yet to make contact. It’ll be round three tomorrow. I’ll get him.”

  Mac could sense the Old Man’s frustration, though Alexander Meyer said nothing to indicate it.

  “Ok Mr. Walker, but again, please be careful. I assume you are running low on food and water.”

  Mac glanced over at his pack, silently agreeing to himself that the Old Man was right. He had no more than a day of food left, perhaps a day and a half of water.

  “I’m ok sir. See you soon.”

  Mac ended the transmission.

  An hour later he leaned into the glowing warmth of a small fire, as he chewed slowly on a strip of caribou jerky and sipped from an almost empty jug of water. Running out of water did not concern him. There were plenty of small springs and streams in the area to drink from, should it come to that. Food though, was another matter. The summer berries were long gone, and what few animals remained above ground were well hidden in the underbrush. If he was going to find that bear, Mac Walker knew he needed to do it soon or be forced to return to Dominatus having failed to do so.

  Laying next to him was the weapon Mac had chosen for the task of killing the grizzly bear – a large caliber Remington M700. The weapon came at the recommendation of the Old Man, who indicated it had long been a favorite of the Eskimo hunters at the reservation. Each night, Mac slowly and meticulously cleaned the rifle, checked its sight, and made certain it was ready to fire. Having one’s weapon fail was the last thing you wanted when facing an angry and charging grizzly bear.

  The first time he heard rustling movement behind him, Mac considered the possibility it was merely the result of the gentle, yet increasingly cold breeze blowing into his face.

  The second time his ears picked up the noise, his military training took over as Mac whirled around with the rifle held out in front of him, his eyes straining to detect any movement from within the darkness. Nothing moved, the night unnaturally still and silent.

  Though he could neither see nor hear anything to indicate he was not alone, Mac simply knew the great beast was out there watching him, just as a good soldier, experienced in the chaos of war, knows the difference between imminent threat, and mere distraction.

  “About time you introduced yourself to me.”

  Part of Mac was surprised at the sound of his own voice as it broke apart the quiet around him, his breath causing a small cloud of vapor to form in front of his face.

  Mac took a cautious step forward into the darkness, his senses still straining to see or hear where the bear might be. His efforts were greeted with yet more silence. Nothing moved but the wind, and even the fire behind Mac seemed to be holding its breath in anticipation of what may come.

  “Know you’re out there big fella.”

  A soft shuffling sound came from perhaps thirty yards to Mac’s left. Mac inhaled deeply and was rewarded with the unmistakable stench of wet hair, decay and a hint of pepper. He recalled having read somewhere that bear skat had a dark, peppery smell to it.

  The bear was close.

  Mac made certain to slow his breathing as he aimed the rifle in front of him as he silently cursed himself for not bringing any night vision goggles with him.

  A loud huffing noise seemed to come from behind him, its source just outside the faint glow of the burning fire. Mac turned smoothly toward the noise, unable to determine for certain where the sound had come from.

  The son-of-a-bitch is messing with me.

  Mac knew bears to be smart, but this one was proving itself smarter than most.

  Another series of shuffling, scraping noises emerged from his right, again seeming to come from about thirty yards away.

  How can something so big be so damn quiet?

  Mac slowly crouched down onto his left knee, still keeping the rifle pointed out in front of him. No other sounds of movement came from the darkness, though the feeling of being watched never diminished. Mac knew the bear was there, hidden somewhere just beyond the light of the now fading fire.

  If Mac was to keep the fire burning, he would eventually have to get more wood.

  That meant he too would have to join the bear in the darkness.

  3.

  For two more hours Mac foraged around the makeshift campsite for enough wood material to keep the fire burning, using leaves, grass, and small handfuls of twigs. He was nearly fifty yards from the nearest tree line, and whatever little bits of burnable materials around him was by then, all but gone. No flames emanated from the fire – its body merely a crumbling pile of faintly glowing embers.

  Even though the feeling of being watched persisted, keeping Mac focused as he continued to peer out into the darkness, even he was surprised at the speed and ferocity of the bear’s charge. The great beast was nearly upon him within a second of Mac hearing the sound of movement, its massive, brown head and gaping jaws bursting from the blanket of night as its growling roar erupted and echoed all around him.

  If not for the longtime military operative’s still lightning - quick reflexes, the bear would likely have killed Mac Walker that night. As it was, Mac, holding his rifle in both hands, leapt to his right and rolled, coming up smoothly back onto his feet and tracking the bear’s movement with the rifle as the creature lumbered back into the darkness. Mac’s finger pressed against the rifle’s trigger, and then pulled back as he realized he had no shot. The bear had once again disappeared.

  The animal’s musky-wet stench filled Mac’s nostrils, and looking down at the ground, Mac realized the beast had passed just a few feet by him. He was again enveloped in an eerie silence, with no indication of movement from beyond the low glow of the dying camp fire.

  This bear ain’t acting like any bear I ever heard of. I swear the thing just did some kind of reconnaissance on me. Wanted to size me up, see how fast I moved, if I’m stronger than the last person it killed.

  Mac shook his head at the thought, but the possibility persisted. The bear was sizing him up, trying to determine how best to attack him.

  Mac Walker’s eyes scanned the nearby tree line again. Getting there would require he walk almost the entire distance in absolute darkness. Heavy clouds above him blocked out any moonlight. He needed wood though, for both heat and light. A good, strong fire would likely go a long way in keeping the bear from entering the camp site for the remainder of the night.

  C’mon Walker, man up and go get that wood for the fire.

  Mac was halfway to the tree line when he heard rustling to his right, followed by a deep exhalation of breath. The bear was following behind him, close enough this time Mac could just make out its form as i
t lumbered slowly and somehow almost silently no more than twenty yards from his position.

  Leaning down onto his left knee, Mac brought the Remington up and calmly pointed the end of its barrel into the still slowly moving dark mass that was the grizzly bear. He then inhaled slowly and held it for a half second before pulling the trigger.

  The bear charged.

  Oh hell.

  Mac forced himself to remain in place, crouched over his left knee, and fired a second shot, the kick of the rifle butt punching into his right shoulder.

  The bear was nearly on him, causing Mac to again roll to his right as he had done earlier in the night. This time though, the bear seemed to recall the move, its massive right paw stretching outward and catching Mac on his side and then catapulting him backwards several feet where he crashed onto his back against the hard ground, the force of the impact pushing the breath from his lungs as his vision exploded in a series of flashing white light.

  Don’t you pass out Walker, or that bear will be shitting you out by tomorrow.