Grain Wagon Hunting Blind Novels & Stories

I could not try to mind-link with Blake as I had not been brought into the Pack yet. As we came around a bend, Colby leaned forward, “What is that up ahead?” he asks. We all lean forward to look and see what looks like a wolf on the side of the road. My heart leaps in my throat. Were they dead or alive? Why were they randomly lying on the side of the road?

I pointed north. “If the Hollow kept its word, we are near the mill road between Briar Glen and Graymere’s west trail.” Garran looked around. “I know this ditch.” I stared at him. “That is oddly specific.” “My cousin broke his arm here chasing a pig.” “Helpful landmark.” “The pig won.” “Less helpful.” Garran looked toward the road again. His amusement faded. “This road meets Brackenhold trade path before sundown if we move fast.” “Then we move fast.”

Those who needed to use more grenades did. A fuel tank somewhere hit and the air suddenly smelled of oil and char—sweet and stinging. Someone screamed like a beast. Someone else laughed with a noise that could only be called hunger. I hadn't just come with my trio. I came with a fucking army today. Because we decided it was going to be a bloodbath. We were done hunting. Hunting had been fun. But there was nothing we could do when we finally knew where Blayne was. He was the biggest catch, and the thrill of laying my hands on him sent a delicious chill up my spine.

“It’s done.” Was she difficult?” Zeden asked without looking away from me. “I figured she’d give the boys hell. I hope they didn’t lay a finger on her.” “No one touched her. I’ll get confirmation when they reach her family’s estate.” Zeden finally glanced at his right-hand man. “Good.” Zeden’s thumb stroked my wrist once more before releasing it. “Come drive us. My little bride here is terrified a blind man might kill her if he gets behind the wheel.”

She didn’t respond, just tightened her jaw before shifting the car into gear and driving off, leaving me standing there in silence. The sun filtered through the sparse canopy above, dappling the ground in patches of golden light, and the faint chirping of birds carried on the wind. For a moment, I just stood there, looking. Then I took a deep breath, adjusted the bag on my shoulder, and stepped into the woods. If there was one thing my parents and Orin had taught me, it was how to track a werewolf. They’d drilled it into me so often it felt like second nature, a skill etched into my bones. But finding a pack? That was something no hunter had ever managed.

I climbed off both of them and they moaned in objection. Racer slumped backward and I dropped next to Vanquish who rolled over to hold me to him. He whispered one word to me, but I knew what it meant. “Everything…” *** We heard rustling through the tall grass outside and we all caught the whiff of animal blood. Breakfast. Hunter was back dragging a hog. It’s throat was torn out. Blood stained the grass from the gash which still seeped. We piled out the door to help him.

"Hudson is not a wolf to be trifled with, Stan." Stan smiled, a jagged thing. "Just ensure the Omen stays whole. Do not let your claws slip." It didn't take long for Stan’s tactical brilliance to be proven. Though Stan had ordered the main wagons to take the broad trail as a decoy, Hudson was already closing the gap. Blake and the Montgomery Enforcers swarmed the wagons within the hour. They subdued the Outlanders with brutal efficiency, but a frantic search of the carriages revealed they were empty of everything but scent-cloths designed to mimic Avery's presence.

"I know exactly what piece of wood his wolf is so smug about tracking, but unfortunately for his blade, it won't help the Bloodclaw Dominion Group at all." "Please tell my wolf where to find the true clues about our stolen herbs!" Lydia exclaimed, turning her amber eyes toward Derek with desperate hope. Derek explained, "The old man is thinking about following the heavy iron wheel tracks left by the supply wagons in the mud." Lydia nodded thoughtfully, her knuckles relaxing. "That is actually not a terrible strategy for a scout. There are plenty of unpaved dirt trails in these valleys, and seven fully loaded herb wagons would definitely leave deep ruts in the earth."

His claws extended, ready to tear apart the next threat. Silas stepped out of the thick fog. His long leather duster dragged in the mud. The milky-white scar over his blind eye gleamed in the dim light. His remaining hunters flanked him, their hunting rifles lowered toward the ground. "Well, that was a mess." Silas kicked Griggs's dead body with the toe of his steel-capped boot. He looked up at the two fugitives, offering a crooked, scarred smile. "You kids okay?”

People are milling about, both wolves and humans attending to the business of the camp. It's the trading day today. Wagons are filled with food and supplies to be taken to the outpost and other camps to be traded for weapons or grains or whatever the camp might need. There are also a few slaves that are attached to them. Both girls are in this group that Trish aided in escaping. Grayson must have caught them. That man was a terror of the night. Dread runs down my spine and there's this gnawing feeling to turn back. But I straighten my back and march over, acting like everyone else that's assigned to filling the wagons.