The hunters laughed, a harsh, mocking sound that grated on Wade’s frayed nerves. He braced himself, lungs tight, certain his next breath would be his last. Then, through the forest’s hush, a shrill wail pierced the night: sirens, unmistakable and closing in fast.
Bright headlights flooded the trees, turning shadows into stark shapes. The men whirled, faces twisting from smug confidence to raw disbelief. Before they could flee, Milo’s fierce barking erupted from the undergrowth, and rangers poured into the clearing, weapons drawn and orders barking over the cacophony.