Fierce Pursuit: Fierce Series, #2

By Clay Dolan

When Xavier Garza awakens—in the back of his employer’s buckboard wagon, with Thomas Wilkins following on horseback—he learns that after the massive Atahsaia knocked him aside, leaving him unconscious, it had fled the cabin with his wife and baby son.

Xavier and Thomas are about to begin a relentless hunt through some of Colorado’s rugged back country, leading eventually to a confrontation with the man-beasts in and around the biggest, deepest, blackest, most-threatening canyon either of them had ever seen.

What will the men have to do in their efforts to survive? What lessons will they learn about mercy and obedience?

• Language: English
• Publisher: Clay Dolan
• Release date: May 27, 2015
• ISBN: 9781513048567

Book preview

Chapter One

A Mission from God

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Xavier revived just before we entered the town. Naturally, he wanted to know about his wife and son. We—the Langstons and I—tried to comfort him without giving him the devastating news. He would not be denied, however; he insisted on the truth, all of it. In the typical Xavier Garza manner, he kept his emotions in check, mostly, as we gave him the dreadful report.

Had it been me receiving such news, I suspect I would have leapt from the wagon, stolen the nearest horse, and ridden back to the ranch to look for signs to follow, for some way to recover my loved ones. And my efforts likely would have been wasted. Xavier, being less given to his emotions and more methodical in his approach to troubles, lay back down, quietly. His emotions were not unaffected, but rather than surrendering to them, he was, I was quite certain, praying.

Prayer seemed to be my friend’s reflexive response to every trial. In this instance, my response was just the opposite. If there really is a god who hears our prayers, why did he allow those hideous, brutish creatures even to exist, not to mention allowing them to steal a good man’s wife and child—and no doubt do unspeakable things to them? What kind of sovereign would use horrible trials to drive his subjects to talk to him? While my friend prayed, I mulled. And my conclusion, by the time we reached the doctor’s home, was that the sovereign, if one existed, was more to blame than the beasts he’d released.

***

Doctor Krantz had sufficient medical supplies at his home so that we had no need to haul Xavier to his office in the pre-dawn hour. He determined that Xavier had a mild concussion. His face was swollen and would be badly bruised, but his jaw was not broken. Even so, his speech would be difficult and slurred for a while. We needn’t explain the source of the wounds to Dr. Krantz; Sheriff Becker had brought Matthew Gray’s remains to him for examination and for production of the official death certificate. The doctor had formally ruled Matthew’s cause of death as wild animal attack, undetermined species, but he knew the truth.

While the doctor tended to Xavier, I said I’d go report the news of the attack and abduction to Sheriff Becker and see about raising a posse to track down the beast and its captives. Xavier gently pushed Doctor Krantz’s hand away from examining the wound, looked directly at me and said, struggling to make his swollen face form the words, No, Tom, don’t bother. He took a deep breath, and as he exhaled, he said, It’s too late; they’re dead.

Mrs. Langston, who’d been crying intermittently ever since Mr. Langston had returned to the house to get the buckboard and told her of the Atahsaia attack on the Garza’s cabin, looked as if she’d faint.

What? I asked. How can you know that?

God told me, he replied before settling back and allowing the doctor to finish his exam.

You can’t be sure of that, I countered. We have to try ... for God’s sake, Xavier, we have to try. I think I blushed a bit as the irony of the wording of my plea struck me.

God told me what I must do, and I will obey, Xavier said as the doctor completed his examination and retrieved his bag of supplies. Before I could ask Xavier about his god’s instructions, the doctor pulled a bottle from the bag, opened it, and offered some pills to his bruised patient: These will make you groggy, but they’ll greatly diminish your pain.

Xavier shook his head. No, I’m fine; I have work to do, he said as he stood and walked toward the door. Mr. and Mrs. Langston, will you please take me back to the ranch?

***

I followed along, still trying to comprehend my friend’s strange attitude. How could he resign himself so calmly to the death of his beloved wife and son? And how could he be so certain that they were dead? His god told him? If this god of his was able to speak to him of things unseen, why did he not warn Xavier of the Atahsaia attack in time to prevent it? The more I pondered, the more convinced I became that whatever Xavier’s god was telling him to do was a fool’s errand. If this god existed at all, he was not to be trusted.

Upon our return to the ranch, Mr. and Mrs. Langston let Xavier off at the remains of his cabin before continuing on to their home. Xavier scarcely seemed to notice that much of the cabin’s front wall was missing; he merely walked through the jagged eight-foot-wide opening as if it were the door. I remained in the saddle, watching his movements, which, while still odd, seemed purposeful. He walked directly to the bed and reached underneath, removing a sack. He opened the sack, looked into it for no more than a few seconds, then tied it closed and gripped it tightly. Next he picked up his Winchester and began walking toward the small barn-like structure in which our two horses spent most of their nights. He placed his saddle on his horse, cinched it, and mounted up.

Where we going? I asked.

I’m going back in to town.

Okay, I replied as I followed him. I was not surprised that he was in no mood for conversation on the ride, so I followed quietly, waiting with keen interest to make sense of his actions. We’d have to hurry, as most businesses would be closing early for the Independence holiday.

He rode straight to the bank, which had just opened for the day. I followed him in. He walked directly to the desk of Mr. Sloan, the bank president, a kind and honorable man, who greeted Xavier with a smile. "What can