The Trail
The trail had gone cold. That was the frustration which James Newton was feeling. He saw the target disappear into the woods but the trail went cold as soon as they hit the rocky cliff. If he had been more steadfast into making the jump down the steep incline, he would’ve had him. He could’ve then bargained for the woman whom they all knew was going to be harder to catch. Five long seconds of indecision and he lost his chance. He knew it. But, he wasn’t as desperate.
James was squatting over his boots and staring down at the muddy trail, squinting for any signs of fresh tracks. The wellpacked hiking path was smooth as a consequence of the water cascading from the nearby hillsides eroded any signs of footprints in the drenched dirt. He knew they were close. He could feel it. Maybe it wasn’t this…
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Marc Tizura 