Free Snowblind II: The Killing Grounds by Michael McBride Page B

behavior needed to be taken into account. And what became increasingly apparent with every step he took was that they weren’t dealing with a mountain lion.
    There wasn’t a single print to be found, and while big cats were capable of moving from one tree to another, they weren’t known to travel any kind of distance in such a manner. As he’d told the sheriff, their paws were uniquely designed to travel across the snow. Taking the route of most resistance, especially while potentially burdened with Crowell’s weight, simply didn’t make sense. The only reason to do so would be in an effort not to leave any tracks to follow, which required a higher level of cognitive ability than was typically ascribed to predatory species, even of the apex variety.
    Zeke’s trail had become an indistinct trench in the snow, nearly smoothed over by the wind. They occasionally heard him barking in the distance, but never got close enough to see him. Not that they would have been able to anyway with the way the snow was blowing. At least not until they were right on top of him.
    The buzz of static followed him. Dayton had cranked up the volume on his transceiver in hopes that he’d hear the moment it got a signal. Every so often he stepped out into a clearing or climbed to the top of a hill in an effort to get reception. He was off to the left now, a silhouette through the driving snow, shouting into the two-way.
    Seaver tried not to think about the passage of time. With as much blood as Crowell had lost, and considering there was only a finite amount…
    He chased away the mental image. Maybe the blood wasn’t all hers. She was as tough as they came. She would have put up a good fight.
    The missing girl’s boyfriend walked behind him. He could feel the man’s eyes over his shoulder, watching the monitor and the signal that appeared with decreasing frequency now that the antenna was mangled. He thought about how the transmitter in the collar worked. The only way the signal could have appeared exactly where they were was if it had been up in the trees, mere feet above their heads and completely concealed by the shadows.
    He’d ruled out a malfunction based on the consistency of the signal, which meant that if the beacon was still broadcasting as designed, it had to have been removed from the ram’s carcass. The collar itself was essentially a wide leather belt that cinched around the animal’s neck. Its electrical components were housed in a box roughly two inches wide and an inch tall. Inside was a battery with an operational life of three years, a sensor that registered heart rate in beats per minute, and both GPS and VHF transponders. By itself it weighed a mere forty grams, approximately the weight of the sugar in a can of Pepsi, and was affixed to the collar by a leather pouch and metal screws. Surely whatever animal it monitored wasn’t still in possession of the ram’s forequarters and couldn’t possibly have put it on by accident, so how was it carrying it in such a way that it was still transmitting a viable signal?
    For the first time he considered the notion that it wasn’t an animal at all. Only man was capable of that kind of deception, but there was no way any man could move through the canopy with such speed and fluidity.
    “You were the one who found the camera?” Avery said from behind him.
    Seaver answered without turning around.
    “Yes.”
    The wind arose from the north with a howl and assailed them with snowflakes. There already had to be close to six inches on the ground inside the dense forest, and Lord only knew how much outside of it.
    “You saw her. You saw Michelle.”
    Seaver hoped his silence communicated that he didn’t want to talk about it.
    “I just need to know how you knew to contact me.”
    The pain in the man’s voice was palpable. Seaver felt a pang of remorse when he answered.
    “You should talk to the sheriff.”
    A full minute passed before the man spoke again.
    “I’ve spent my