Simon looked at the beast that towered over him and wondered how it had found him. A sharp pain in his right arm reminded him of the gash he had received crashing his car into one of the creatures pack mates. Blood trail, rookie mistake, and possibly his last.
The beast looked like a polar bear mated with a gorilla and then got really angry. He knew what it was a North-American Yeti, usually they stuck to the wildernesses of Canada and even then they weren’t much of an issue. Somehow this one and the three that followed it had found their way into Northern Maine, and that was part of Simon’s territory. Technically, Vermont, Maine, Massachusetts, and New York excluding New York City were his territory but that was just arguing semantics.
Taking down the first two while fully stocked and with use of both limbs was hard, using his car to smash the third one was a desperate move, now he was down to one arm and his gun nowhere to be found. He always wondered how he was going to die, ever since starting this job he knew it wasn’t going to be in bed surrounded by grandkids. Well, there was a chance he would die surrounded by someone else’s grandchildren but then he would probably be a meal and that was a scenario for another day.
He tried to remember what the manual said about Yeti. Was the plural Yetis or Yetii or just Yeti? No time for that now, his brain was wondering, the pain was making him lose focus.
“Yeti,” he said looking into the black orbs of the creature. “Prefers colder climate and enjoys a diet of small game. You are supposed to be extremely territorial but mostly harmless.”
The Yeti growled as it took another step closer to him. One more step and it would be able to reach him. He tried not to move and then it clicked in his mind.
“Catches game by frightening its prey into stillness,” Simon rushed forward and hopped to the side as a large hand reached out for him. “You’re big and scary but slow and stupid.”
Diving under another swipe of a clawed hand he ran back along the creatures tracks. Yeti were notorious for living in caves or creating natural cover by bending trees, if there were any survivors they would be there. Adrenaline kicked in, the pain in his arm dulled and the cool winter air was refreshing and brisk. The tracks were easy to follow and he soon found himself facing the opening of an ice cave. Natural run-off had frozen to create a hollowed out area against a rock face. Somewhere in the back of his mind he noted that it was beautiful.
The Yeti was close behind him, they were slow moving but big and once they sped up all that mass they didn’t stop easily. An idea went formed in his mind and he stood on the other side of the ice wall, waiting for the beast. Just as he found the perfect spot the Yeti came into view, charging straight at him and bellowing a roar that made his teeth rattle. With every step closer the beast picked up speed. Simon dove to the right, sliding face first like a runner praying to steal home, and the Yeti crashed head first into ice wall and bursting on through.
“That didn’t work,” he turned over and looked at the chunk of missing ice.
The ice wall was supposed to stop it. Reaching with his uninjured hand to his right pocket he pulled the large tranquilizer needle and uncapped it. He had to move quick.
Closing one eye and walking into the cave he could see the Yeti sprawled across the floor of the cave. One of its arms was bent at an odd angle and he was pretty sure its left foot wasn’t supposed to turn that way. It was still breathing, which he guessed was good.
Unceremoniously he planted the needle in the creature’s hindquarters and depressed the plunger. The thing should be out now for at least a few hours, probably more given its injuries. He sat down, using the Yeti as a seat and reached inside his jacket. He pulled a little black box that almost looked like a garage door opener with a small screen and pressed a button. The screen blinked for a moment then the word ‘received’ scrolled across the three inch display in green blocky letters.
A small whimper brought his attention toward the back of the cave. He really hoped it wasn’t another Yeti, even a little one could be a pain in the ass and he didn’t have any more needles.
“Hello,” a shaky voice called.
“Hello?” He replied standing up.
“Oh thank god!” The voice yelled.
A young man, maybe twenty years old rushed from the back of the cave and wrapped his arms around Simon.
He sobbed, “It ate Robby and our guide, then it dragged me here. I thought I was going to die.”
“You’re going to be alright now,” Simon patted the young man on his back and tried to ignore the pressure on his injured arm. “Help is coming.”
“Anything you want, I’ll give it to you, anything,” the young man took off a gold watch and offered it to him.
“I could really use some back-up,” he sighed looking at the downed Yeti.
“Done,” the kid nodded. “What’s your name?”
“Simon,” he returned the hug. “Simon Kelevra. I’m going to pass out now.”