Chapter 1
Young Robert Wendal crept through the brush of the Canadian outdoors. Something wasn’t right as the hairs on the back of his neck stood up. Movement caught his eyes, an antler behind a large boulder.
Not knowing if he should move up to get a better view of the whitetail deer or wait for it to come out from behind, he held his rifle up and tried to calm his breathing, figuring he would wait for the deer to come out from the rock.
Having about an hour of sunlight left, he looked about the trees as the wind was kicking up and moving the forest and brush about like that of the ocean waves, it was mesmerizing, and he enjoyed the outdoors.
Worried that the deer would stay behind the boulder all night, he slowly stepped to the right moving in behind a tree. As he stepped, he heard a branch crack under his boot.
The deer’s antlers turned his direction and jumped from the boulder dashing off into the woods.
“Fuck” He muttered and ran to the boulder and raised his rifle.
The ground gave out under him, grasping for anything he could catch, he tumbled down into darkness. He landed hard; the wind knocked out of him. Limestone rocks slowly gave way, moving loose.
He watched as the 80-pound rock slipped from the side and fall into his chest crushing him.
Dying, he looked up; antlers appeared, yellow eyes peered down. Before he could focus, he died, mouth agape.
