Тесс Герритсен - Bloodstream стр 15.

Whats the problem, anyway?

Aw, its the third time hes called nine-one-one. Im so busy runnin my tail off with all these other calls, it takes me a while to get here. He always has the same complaint about some wild animal stalking his sheep. Probably just seeing his own shadow, thats what.

Why does he call us?

Cause Fish and Game takes even longer to respond. I been here twice this week, didnt find anything. Not even a coyote print. Todays the first time I seen Vern this riled up. Thought Id better get you out, just in case he decided to shoot me stead of some wild animal.

Lincoln glanced at the house, and saw the old mans face silhouetted in the window. Hes watching. Might as well check the property, just to keep him happy

Says he saw the animal over by the barn.

Pete turned on his flashlight, and they started across the yard, toward the sound of bleating sheep. Lincoln felt the old mans gaze every step of the way.

Lets just humor him, he thought. Even if it is a waste of our time.

He was startled when Pete suddenly halted, his flashlight beam trained on the barn door.

It hung open.

Something wasnt right. It was after dark, and the door should have been latched to protect the animals.

He turned on his flashlight as well. They approached more slowly now, their jerky beams guiding the way. At the entrance to the barn they paused. Even through the earthy melange of farmyard odors, they could smell it: the scent of blood.

They stepped into the barn. At once the bleating intensified, the sound as disturbing as the cries of panicked children. Pete swung his flashlight in a wide arc, and they caught glimpses of pitchforks and fluttering chickens and sheep fearfully bunched together in a pen.

Lying on the sawdust floor was the source of that foul odor. Pete stumbled out of the building first, and retched into the weeds, one hand propped up against the barn wall. Jesus. Jesus.

Its just a dead sheep, said Lincoln.

I never seen a coyote do that. Lay out the offal.

Lincoln aimed his beam at the ground, quickly scanning the area around the barn door. All he saw was a jumble of boot prints, his and Petes and Vern Fullers.

No tracks. How could an animal leave no tracks?

A twig snapped behind him, and he whirled around to see Vern, still clutching the shotgun.

Its a bear, said the old man. Thats what I seen, a bear.

A bear wouldnt do this.

I know what I saw. Whynt you believe me?

Because everyone knows youre half blind.

It went that way, into the woods, said Vern, pointing to the forested edge of his property I followed it over there, just before dark. Then I lost it.

Lincoln saw that the boot tracks did indeed head toward the forest, but Vern had retraced his steps several times, obscuring any animal footprints.

He followed the trail over to the woods. There he stood for a moment, peering into the blackness. The trees were so thick they seemed to form an impenetrable wall that even his flashlight beam could not pierce.

By now Pete had recovered, and was standing by his side. We should wait till daylight, Pete whispered. Dont know what were dealing with.

I know its not a bear.

Yeah, well, Im not scared of bears. But if its something else.

Its a bear, said the old man. Thats what I seen, a bear.

A bear wouldnt do this.

I know what I saw. Whynt you believe me?

Because everyone knows youre half blind.

It went that way, into the woods, said Vern, pointing to the forested edge of his property I followed it over there, just before dark. Then I lost it.

Lincoln saw that the boot tracks did indeed head toward the forest, but Vern had retraced his steps several times, obscuring any animal footprints.

He followed the trail over to the woods. There he stood for a moment, peering into the blackness. The trees were so thick they seemed to form an impenetrable wall that even his flashlight beam could not pierce.

By now Pete had recovered, and was standing by his side. We should wait till daylight, Pete whispered. Dont know what were dealing with.

I know its not a bear.

Yeah, well, Im not scared of bears. But if its something else.

Pete drew his weapon. Rumor has it a cougar was spotted up at Jordan Falls last week.

Now Lincoln drew his weapon as well as he moved slowly into the woods. He took half a dozen steps, the crack of breaking twigs under his boot as loud as gunfire. All at once he froze, staring at that wall of trees. The forest seemed to close in. The hairs on the back of his neck were standing up.

Theres something out there. Its watching us.

Every instinct screamed at him to retreat. He backed away, his heart racing, his boots setting off explosions of noise. Only when he and Pete had emerged completely from the woods did that feeling of imminent danger fade away.

They stood once again in front of Vern Fullers barn, and the sheep were still bleating. He looked down at the boot prints. Suddenly his head came up.

What lies beyond those woods? he asked.

Goes back a ways, said Vern. Other sides Barnstown Road. Bunch of houses.

Houses, thought Lincoln.