Free Dear Crossing by Marjorie Doering Page B

contents lay spilled across the bench seat. A pound of ground pork was warm to the touch. He picked up a can of concentrated orange juice. The contents sloshed inside.
    “It’s thawed,” he told them.
    “You see?” Dr. Lewis said. “I know Hank, and that pinch penny wouldn’t leave his stuff out here to spoil.”
    Their heads turned as another bellow came from inside the barn.
    Ray drew his service revolver and began walking toward the barn. “You two stay here.”
    “Oh, God.” The vet clamped a fine-boned hand over his brow. “That bull’s a valuable animal.”
    “So am I,” Ray muttered over his shoulder.
    “I didn’t mean…You be careful. That bull is extremely aggressive.”
    Neil started after Ray. “I’m coming with you.”
    “No, you stay put.”
    Neil reluctantly led Dr. Lewis back beside the squad car.
    “I hope he knows what he’s doing,” the vet said. “That animal’s a half-ton of bad attitude.”
    Ray’s distance to the barn narrowed to forty yards when he heard a loud thud. He moved forward more slowly. Another thud followed, louder than the first.
    Stopping, Ray shouted, “Mr. Kramer?” No response. “Hank?”
    The rotting barn door shuddered and bulged outward. He heard Neil’s voice above the sound of the animal ramming the door from within.
    “Ray, look out. Run.”
    Pieces of wood flew like shrapnel as the bull burst through the door. Hooves digging into the earth, it propelled itself toward Ray. Stunned by the animal’s size and speed, he fired a single instinctive shot. The bull didn’t falter. He fired a second time as he spun and raced for his life. The earth seemed to quake beneath him as the immense animal closed the distance between them.
    Ray ran parallel to Neil and the vet’s location. How many strides before he’d be ground under the trampling hooves? Six? Seven? Ray’s lungs strained. His heart pounded against his ribs. For an instant, he saw the vet, his arms flapping like some enormous bird. He couldn’t make out what he was yelling. Neil’s voice was clearer, but Ray couldn’t make sense of it.
    A second time, Neil commanded more emphatically, “Veer and drop.”
    Without questioning, Ray lunged sideways, his shoulder absorbing the brunt of the impact as he hit the ground. The bull’s momentum carried it beyond him a heartbeat later.
    Ray hadn’t seen Neil take the shotgun from its bracket in the squad car. He hadn’t seen him take aim, but he heard two rapid shotgun blasts. The bull crashed, somersaulting in a kaleidoscope of tumbling flesh, blood and saliva. The body heaved once, twice, then lay still.
    Neil ran to Ray still clutching the shotgun. He crouched over him. “Are you all right, Ray? You okay?”
    Chest heaving, Ray rolled onto his back and flung a forearm over his eyes. “Yeah, just give me…a second to…catch my breath.”
    As Ray’s breathing slowed, Neil extended an arm and helped him up.
    “I thought I was a dead man.” Ray doubled over and turned his head toward the massive carcass on the bloody ground. The sight brought him slowly upright. Dust settled on the bull’s bulk. It clung to the bloody head wounds made even more appalling in their severity by the shotgun slug to the head. Still more blood drained from the second wound to its chest.
    Heart still pounding, Ray said, “God. Look at the size of that thing.” He grabbed Neil’s hand. “Neil, thanks. I owe you bigtime.”
    “Forget it. I’m just glad you’re fast on your feet.”
    Ray slapped the rookie’s shoulder. “Likewise.” He turned to speak to the vet only to find him gone. “Where’s Dr. Lewis?”
    “I don’t know. He was here a second ago.”
    The vet’s voice was faint. “Over here.” He was leaning heavily against the open barn door, his head resting against the upraised forearm he used to brace himself.
    “Doc,” Neil said as they approached, “are you all right?”
    The vet moaned. “I think I’m going to be sick.” He wrapped his