Snowbabies

By Victor Storck

In cold and snow covered southeast Montana, a fifteen year old hunter has a young deer, his first "one shot, instant kill", lined up squarely in his sights. But by a twist of some unknown fate his shot misses, and so begins the hunter's incredible journey. "Snowbabies" is a fantasy/adventure story for ages twelve and up.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Victor Storck
• Release date: Jun 27, 2013
• ISBN: 9781301070190

Victor Storck

Victor Storck is an avid reader, and has been since he was three years old, when he used to read the Sunday "funny papers." He has been writing fiction for the last several years, and even though it's just about the hardest thing he's ever done, he can't imagine doing anything else. Victor has had a long career in Finance, and is currently taking a break to focus on writing. He lives in Southern California.

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Snowbabies

by Victor Storck

Copyright©2013 Victor Storck

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Table of Contents

Friday Morning: The Hunter and the Hunted

Friday Afternoon: Reality Is No Dream

Saturday Morning: The Blizzard

Saturday Afternoon: Promises, Promises

Saturday Night: Target Practice

Sunday Morning: A Few Visitors

Finally: A Frozen Soul

Friday Morning: The Hunter and the Hunted

The fifteen year old hunter, camouflaged and well hidden, held his breath while taking careful aim. Hours of waiting and now his chance had finally come. The hunter didn't care about the freezing cold, or the waist high snow he had to struggle through to get to his favorite hunting spot. All that mattered now was the small brown deer less than fifty yards away.

The hunter shifted his brand new rifle an inch to the left. Almost perfect. One more tiny move upwards. There. The deer's white haired chest was now squarely in his sights. The hunter's finger rested lightly on the trigger. He told himself to stay perfectly still, to not even breathe.

The deer had no idea it had a deadly rifle aimed directly at it’s heart. All it knew right now was hunger, all it cared about was finding food. Head down, sniffing and pawing at the crackling cold snow, the deer could barely make out the scent of brown grass underneath. It was probably only a small patch with hardly any blades of grass left, but even a tiny mouthful would help to get rid of that awful starving feeling.

Here in southeast Montana, all throughout the spring, summer, and fall, the fields for miles around were thick with grass. No shortage of food at all. But this year the unforgiving winter came early. The first blizzard arrived in late September and dumped almost two feet of snow in one day. All that luscious grass was instantly buried under mountains of snow. Now it was the last week of October. Snow drifts of ten, fifteen, twenty feet high towered all across the fields. A two day long snowstorm that began on Tuesday had just ended. Since that first storm in September the temperature never got above twenty degrees.

The hunter’s trigger finger felt good resting on the trigger. A feeling of power. Incredible power. The tiniest squeeze and the deer would be shot clean through it’s heart, dying instantly. A painless death. That was the mark of a true hunter. One shot, instant kill the saying went, the most important thing the hunter had been striving for since he was eleven years old. Over the last four years he’d come close, hunting with his father, but he had yet to kill anything. Now he was fifteen and out here alone, his father moving away once the divorce was final. The hunter felt like he had waited his whole life for this one moment, and now it was finally here. There was the deer, it’s head down, no idea of what was to come.

The hunter squeezed the trigger and CRAACK! the rifle came to life. Just as the bullet fired out a sudden blast of snowy wind blew directly between the