Page 4 of The Enforcers: NOAH

The call went dead.

Mina stayed frozen, listening, but there were no sounds of the men approaching. After a couple of minutes, she caught a glimpse of them walking back along the trail and held her breath, praying the wolf would stay quiet.

She watched their green-tinged forms through her goggles until they disappeared among the foliage, and then forced herself to count a full sixty seconds more, just to make sure they weren’t coming back.

Then she dashed through the forest as fast as she could, ducking around trees, underbrush catching her camo, trying to watch for more traps.

She came to a clearing under a large tree and skidded to a stop, her heels digging into the rich mast on the forest floor, a combination of dirt and decaying leaves.

Holy fracking canines.

A massive wolf stood hunched under the tree, panting and whining, its hind leg caught in the trap. He went completely still when she entered the clearing, staring at her.

Mina pushed up her night vision goggles. There was a little moonlight, and she could see the great hulk of the wolf, its eyes shining golden, almost as if lit from within.

She grabbed her flashlight off her belt and snapped it on.

It was huge. The size of a Great Dane, maybe, but bulkier and more muscular. A classic gray wolf with black markings around his eyes and down his spine—the kind of photo they’d put on a Sierra Club calendar. Without thinking, she murmured, “Oh my gosh, you are gorgeous.”

The wolf’s ear twitched in response to the sound of her voice. Mina expected him to panic, to snarl or scramble away from her, but he merely watched her, his golden eyes deep and intelligent. She took a step closer, very slowly. The wolf let out a low, painful whine.

Its leg.

The trap had caught it on the right rear leg, just above the lower joint. The flashlight revealed the mangled flesh, and she could smell the blood running out onto the forest floor.

Hot fury laced through her. If Robbie and Briscoe had done this, she was going to find a way to make them pay. “Those freaktards should be put in this trap,” she muttered. “See how they like it.”

The wolf gave a short huffing bark, almost as if it were agreeing with her.

“You poor thing,” she murmured, involuntarily taking another step forward.

How the hell was she going to get him out of that trap without getting her hands bitten off? She had a trank gun, but if she put him out and he fell the wrong way, the leg could be permanently damaged, if it wasn’t already.

The wolf was still quiet, still watchful. This was not normal behavior for a wild animal. Was it possible it was a hybrid—someone’s pet? Would it let her get close enough to free it?

Its eyes were almost hypnotic. She couldn’t help imagining it had human thoughts. Human intelligence. Human pain. Human…longing.

She slowly took out her trank gun and held it at her side, then cautiously approached the wolf. It remained quiet, eyes on her, glancing occasionally at the gun.

More evidence it was accustomed to humans and recognized their tools.

She began talking to it in a soothing voice. “You’re such a brave wolf,” she said. “I’m just going to come over there and see if I can get you out of that trap. And if I can, I’m hoping I can get you back to my clinic so I can fix your leg.”

It really looked bad. She couldn’t believe an animal so badly injured wasn’t going crazy with pain, but the wolf was still just watching her.

The intensity in its eyes was haunting.

She didn’t know how the hell she’d get this wolf through a half-mile of woods to her truck. She had some rope in the truck—could she drag it somehow?

She’d be damned if she wouldn’t try. She’d always felt compelled to help animals, but this was more than that.

If this wolf didn’t make it, it would strike her straight through the heart. She knew it.

She approached the wolf slowly, circling around to his hind end, still talking to him. Telling him all about how she’d been looking for wolves just like him, and how she used to study a pack in Alaska. It didn’t matter what she said; it was the tone of her voice that mattered.

When he didn’t attack, or even growl, she holstered her gun and grabbed a thick branch off the ground, about as long as her leg. She stood on one of the stiff springs that held the trap shut, putting all her weight on it, and depressed the other spring with the branch.

The trap sprang open. The wolf instinctively pulled his leg up, off the ground, and as soon as it was out of range of the metal teeth Mina jumped back and let the trap snap shut harmlessly.

A shudder ran through the wolf’s body at the sound, and was echoed in her own.

Mina pulled her trank gun and fired two darts into the wolf’s hide, causing it to yip in surprise, and then give a drunken growl as it began to crumple.

She caught it, staggering at the weight, and protected the injured leg as it fell. She pulled a roll of gauze out of a pocket on her hunting vest and bound up the leg as best she could, creating a makeshift splint out of branches.

The bandages were already staining red.

She ran for her truck, twigs whipping at her face, and drove it further up the old logging road she’d used to keep it out of Robbie’s sight.

Her mind worked frantically. Rope. Tarp. More branches. Some kind of harness rigging. A travois to drag him through the woods and into her truck bed.

Hoping all the time her strength didn’t give out, and he didn’t bleed to death before she got him to her surgery.

She had to save this wolf.