Standing between two of the gum trees, facing directly away from them, stood a large, black wolf.

‘I don’t believe it!’ thought Sam, starting to swing his Winchester repeater up toward the wolf.

Because there was a strong headwind blowing past the wolf, toward the hunters, the wolf had not heard Weird Warren’s chant, or Sam’s curse.   But he heard readily enough when Warren aimed his shotgun toward the wolf, pressed both triggers, letting the hammers click click onto the empty chambers, and shouted, “Bang!   Bang!” at the top of his lungs.

The black wolf jumped a metre straight into the air from fright, allowing Sam’s Winchester to fire harmlessly into the ground beneath the animal, sending up a spray of dead gum leaves.   Before Hart could fire again, the wolf returned to earth and took off like a rocket into the dark forest.

Two other men in the posse were quick enough to fire off shots before the wolf had disappeared from sight.   But he was long out of range, so they only managed to take bark off gum trees a few metres behind the fleeing animal.

“You bloody retard!” shouted Sam Hart, rounding on Weird Warren.   In his anger forgetting his fear of Des Hutchinson.

“Leave him alone!” warned Des.   Although he was also annoyed by the missed opportunity to bag the black wolf.

Ignoring the warning, Sam continued to storm toward the cringing figure of Warren Horne, until Des fired a warning shot from his pump-action shotgun.   The shot missed Sam by mere centimetres, blasting away a great chunk of bark from a ghost gum nearby.

Jumping away in shock, Sam swung his Winchester up toward Des.   The dispute might have ended in bloodshed, if Mel Forbes and Bear Ross hadn’t stepped between the two men to give them a chance to cool down.

“We’re wasting valuable time here!” pointed out Bear.   “The longer we stand here feuding, the less chance we have of catching up with the bastard.”

“We’ll never get him now!” insisted Sam.   “Thanks to that bloody retard!”

“Don’t be too sure,” said Andrew Braidwood.   He walked across to where the black wolf had been standing beside the ghost gums only moments before.   The forest floor was covered in a thick carpet of dried gum leaves and pine needles, and in his haste to escape; the black wolf had thrown up the leaves and needles in his wake, leaving a clear trail behind him.   “All we have to do is follow along behind at an easy pace until he tires himself out, then we nail him.”