The large flatbed truck pulled to the side of the dirt road and braked just past the shade of a towering ponderosa pine. Two brawny men exited the cab, pulling their orange jackets tight. Black lettering—COUNTY OF IDAHO—was emblazoned on their backs. The air five hundred feet below the wilderness escarpment’s tree line was nippy, only ten degrees above freezing. Snow still covered nearby peaks.
“Old Man Winter doesn’t want to let go,” the younger worker complained.
“Be thankful you’re not a thousand feet higher up the slope,” his companion retorted.
“I am.”
They shuffled past the cab’s front tires and slowed after only a few feet. Both grimaced. The heavy scent of decay hung on the breeze like a dirty veil.
“Shit,” the younger worker muttered, waving one palm past his nose. “Looky there.”
“Old Man Winter left Momma Spring a nice parting gift.”
The younger partner just grunted and spit out a wad of chewing tobacco before wiping the stubble on his chin clean.
Placing leather gloves on their hands, they approached the massive carcass, easily eclipsing three times both men’s weight.
“Damn, this motherfucker is big,” the young apprentice said. “Moose?”
“Check the antlers, Daniel Boone.”
“Elk.”
“Yup,” the older worker agreed. “Something must’ve kilt him sometime last winter. Hadn’t even shed them monster horns yet.”
“You say so.”
“Now he’s thawed and rotting.”
The apprentice winced. “And stinking like a week-old pile of roadkill.”
The two county employees returned to the truck and hitched up a heavy chain to a block-and-tackle pulley system. With some tricky maneuvering, they would be able to hoist the dead beast up on the trailer’s bed then haul the carcass down off the mountain.
“What took him down?” the younger one asked, dragging the chain over the dirt and pine needles.
The older man stood studying the dead animal. “Old age, maybe.” He knelt and pried open the ungulate’s mouth. “Teeth worn to the gum line. Probably eighteen, twenty years old.”
The apprentice hefted the pulley system near the elk’s midsection. “Holy shit, bro’. Entire gut’s been ripped out.”
His partner stared a moment. “And et. Et the liver and spleen, and heart, as well.” He shook his head. “Whatever did this never returned. More’n likely, the snows came.”
“Wolves?”
“Possibly. Also a cougar, a really big one.”
“Maybe a grizzly,” the younger employee remarked, taking a cautionary look over his shoulder.
The older worker nodded slowly and rose, using his hands to push off his knees. “Let’s best get this dead bastard loaded before the sun drifts any lower.”
The apprentice grinned. “Yessir, can’t have our weekend high rollers seeing Mother Nature’s nastier side.”
“Fucking A.”