Excerpt from Where Freedom Reigns vol. 1: A Great Thunder From The Mountain
Bitterroot Mountains, Idaho
It wasn't the first warm rays of the sun poking their way through the pine bows in front of the cave that woke Porter. Nor was it the tiny red spider that raced across his cheek causing him to swipe it away with eyes still closed. Instead, it was the sudden shrill cry of the Blue Jay that pierced the stillness of the forest. Instantly, Porter's eyes snapped open. He was lying with his back to the mouth of the cave, and the alarm sounded by the Jay instantly brought him to full awareness. Somewhere behind him a twig snapped, and for an instant, Porter froze, afraid to roll over - afraid to see the guns and the soldiers who almost certainly were standing there. Damn, he thought, I should have kept running last night. But it was too late now. With a deep sigh of resignation, he rolled over to face his captors.
What he saw took the breath out of his lungs. At the mouth of the cave was a full-grown timber wolf. The animal was a large male in his prime with a sleek gray coat and the tips of its long hairs the color of midnight. One hundred and twenty five pounds of coiled muscle wrapped tightly around a steel-like frame, with amber-colored eyes and long white incisors, set like scimitars in jaws capable of cracking a moose skull. It stood there, unmoving and unmoved in the crisp, cool morning air, a gray ghost silhouetted against the dawn's early light. Alone. Unafraid. Completely at one with the forest.
The pleading words of animal rights supporters raced through his mind: There has never been a documented case of a wolf attacking a human in the history of North America. Then, he thought, That's because dead men don't file reports. Porter tried to remember what he was supposed to do. Do I play dead or fight back? No, that was for grizzlies and black bears. Damn it, why didn't I watch the Discovery channel more? All the while this little dialogue was transpiring in his head, Porter didn't take his eyes off the wolf. Nor it off him. Their eyes were locked in a timeless frozen stare. The more they stared into each others eyes, the more Porter's field of vision began to narrow and blur, until finally it was as if he was looking down a long, bright tunnel that led directly into the animal's soul.
Then it happened. The wolf looked away. Just for an instant. Not with his head, just his eyes, and only with the slightest of movements. But Porter saw it and the spell was broken. The tunnel evaporated into the reality of the cave and the forest. Before Porter realized what was happening, the wolf vanished without a trace, as silently as a shadow becomes part of the shade.
It took a few moments for Porter to get his lungs and heart working again. His mind raced back over the past few moments, trying to relive every terrifying and yet exquisite second of it. God, how exciting, he thought. There had been no baring of fangs. No threatening posture. No hairs standing up on the back of his powerful neck. Instead, only curiosity and wonder. Maybe he knew that I was the hunted, not the hunter. Just like him. Maybe he was trying to tell me something. Or maybe he was looking for me to tell him? Porter had been deeply affected. But soon, reality and the events of the past twenty-four hours seeped into his consciousness. All right. Enough of this. The rational side of his brain brought him back to reality. It was time for him to go.
He sat up slowly and rubbed his neck, which was stiff from the damp cold night beside the boulder. He started to get up when something caught his eye. On the ground beside him, lying half buried in the dark and damp soil, was a shiny object. He picked it up and brushed off the dirt. It was a tiny eagle amulet with outstretched wings. He stared at it for several moments, turning it over in his hands, looking for any writing or symbols on it, but there were none. Probably Nez Perce, he thought. If I ever get out of this mess, I'll return it to its rightful owners. He stared at it for a few more seconds, then put it into his pocket and crawled out of the cave. He stood up stiffly and cautiously looked around to see if the wolf had come back. But it had not. He took one last look up the mountain and listened carefully. He heard nothing except a few chickadees squabbling over some seeds. Satisfied that he was alone, he continued his downhill journey.
Within a few minutes, he broke out onto a logging road. He stood there for a moment, first looking up the road and then down it. He listened again carefully to make sure he was alone, then he headed down the road toward the highway. The fact that he didn't have a clue how he would get back to civilization without being caught or what he would do when he got there, didn't bother him. After all, he had spent his entire life running away from something: first it was college, then his family, followed by his company, and now this. It was just one more in a long series of failures. Why not? he thought, Dad never thought I'd amount to much, and I'm going to prove him right if it's the last thing that I do. He stood there for a few more moments, all alone and abandoned in the wilderness. And then he started off down the road to his date with destiny.
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