Page 49 of Silent Prey

Beverly picked up the discarded food and shoved it into her mouth, her eyes never leaving his. After she finished, she stood up on shaky legs, dusting off her pants with a grim determination etched on her face. "Start your countdown," she said.

Christopher tilted his head and studied her with an amused smirk. "As you wish," he replied. “Tick-tock, miss King. Better get started.”

Beverly didn't wait for another word. She took off, bolting into the dense forest surrounding them. He watched her disappear among the thicker foliage, her dark hair fluttering behind her like a flag of defiance.

His pulse quickened with anticipation. The game had begun.

CHAPTER TWENTY TWO

“If you’re looking for bison,” Ranger Ira Jones said, gesturing at the map spread across his office desk, “you won't find them near the populated areas. They prefer the isolation of the northern fields, especially this time of year."

Sheila leaned forward and studied the map intently, convinced that somewhere in this stretch of wilderness, the man they were after was holding Beverly King hostage—if he hadn’t already killed her.

“Now,” Jones said, straightening. “You want to tell me what bison have to do with these murders?”

“The killer’s been using a larger animal with every victim,” Finn said. “We think the next animal he targets will be a bison.”

Jones looked pained. “Is it some kind of message, killing humans and animals together like that?”

“Yes, I believe it is,” Sheila said. “He may be trying to link the two—demonstrate that we’re all just animals, and there’s nothing particularly special about life or tragic about death. Something like that. Just part of the circle of life.”

"Sounds like a real piece of work, this guy," Jones commented, his face a mask of disgust. "And you think this Beverly is still alive?"

"We hope so," Finn replied, the grim note in his voice betraying his doubt.

Jones nodded slowly, the gravity of the situation reflecting in his tired eyes. He traced his roughened finger over the map as he pointed out several areas. "Well, these are your best bets for finding bison. Anything else I can do to help?”

“Actually, there is,” Sheila said. “Whatever you can tell us about these areas—the terrain, the trails, anything—could be tremendously helpful.”

Jones rubbed his face, thoughtful. “Well, it’s pretty remote. You’ll want ATVs to get out there quickly. The terrain can be pretty harsh, especially up in the northern fields, rocky and uneven. There are plenty of canyons and ravines, so you'll need to be extra careful. Once you get there, there are a few trails that weave through the underbrush, probably made by the bison."

Finn was quick to note down the details Jones provided. "What about any isolated cabins or hideouts in these areas?" he asked.

Jones frowned, taking a moment to consider. "There's an old hunting cabin toward the north-east side," he said, pointing at a spot on the map. "It's been abandoned for a long while, though.”

That caught Sheila’s attention. “Is it possible someone could be living there?”

Jones shrugged. “Sure. It’s not like we check on it.”

Finn nodded, circling the mentioned location on their map. "We'll take a look at it. Thank you, Ranger Jones."

The ranger nodded solemnly, passing Finn and Sheila a pair of keys. "These are for the ATVs. Be careful out there. And bring this Beverly girl home safe.”

“We’ll do our best,” Sheila said as she and Finn headed outside. The shed housing the ATVs was located just a little way off from the ranger's office.

“Sheila,” Finn said, “whatever happens…you’ve done your best.”

“What are you talking about?”

He took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “Whether Beverly’s still alive or not, whether we catch this guy today or not, you're doing everything you can. Don't let the doubt eat at you.”

Sheila paused, caught off guard by Finn's words. She swallowed hard, nodding. "I know...I just...we have to find her, Finn. We owe it to her."

Finn reached out, placing a comforting hand on her shoulder. His grip was firm, but there was a gentleness to his touch that communicated more than any words could.

"It's good to be optimistic," he said. "But still…we have to brace ourselves for the possibility that it might be too late already."

Sheila pulled away and shook her head. "I can't accept that. She's alive, Finn—she has to be."

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