Twins of Prey Read Online Free Page B

going to get this rifle out and shoot him in the ass!” Tomek quipped as both boys laughed.
    It was the first time they had smiled together since Uncle’s death. Tomek soon grew bored with the yellow beeping cell phone and tossed it into the river.
    “Time to crush some bones,” Tomek said with a sigh. It was the first time Drake heard his brother speak negatively regarding any process of the killing of the hunters. Of course he figured it was more about the fact that they now had some actual work to do.
    The scorched bones were pulled from the fire pit and placed one by one onto a large, flat riverside boulder they often referred to as the whale rock due to its shape and how it emerged from the water line. Not that either boy had ever seen a whale, but Uncle explained the way the breached the water in order to breath from their blow holes. Drake as a child had drawn a face on it with a piece of sodium limestone mixed with crushed mulberries. Uncle sternly made him stand in the chest deep 40-degree water the next day to wash it off. A cold lesson learned.
    The boys took turns dropping the heaviest rocks they could find onto the bones, piece by piece. Breaking them up into unrecognizable flakes and tossing them into the river. With one rib bone left, Tomek stopped his brother.
    “This one is mine,” Tomek said, picking up the black and grey charcoal-covered rib. “My trophy.”
    Drake rolled his eyes, knowing that Tomek was always the one who cared about antlers on a deer or the size of a fish. He guessed this kill was no different. Tomek had to have his trophy.
    The next morning they awoke and enjoyed their pancake griddle breakfast with some blueberries that they had collected back in the late summer. It was a quiet September morning with the perfect amount of crispness in the air. The summer months were ending and the last fly hatch of the year was about to happen, meaning the day would be spent trout fishing and smoking the meat to preserve it for the bitter winter months ahead.
    The next few weeks the twins spent nearly every minute of the day together. The schedule of separating tasks was dropped and both agreed upon what the day’s activities would be. This time of the year the twins were much like a bear before hibernation, gathering food and putting on fat for the long sleep ahead. The corn was to be picked as well as the last of the other summer vegetables. This included canning what was to be saved. The orchards were full of fruit that was picked and enjoyed by both equally.
    Hundreds of pounds of apples were stored in the underground cellar. The cool temperature underground kept the stash from spoiling. A fresh crisp apple could be had on a cold January day. It was always one of the few bright spots during the dreary days of winter. Fresh apples and corn were also the best winter baits for their deer pit traps. Multiple deer every year fell into the pits attempting to feast on the small bounty of apples the twins had laid out for them on top of the false fern-covered floor surrounding the main garden.
    So life went on quietly and peacefully with no hunters, intruders or even many flyovers, which was unusual. They had figured that eventually a search party would have come looking for the two “lost” hunters. Having worked out their back story if someone came to their camp, both could easily deny any knowledge of the hunters. Both boys planned on helping in the search efforts if need be in order to cast away any light that may draw suspicions their way. It was a peaceful winter. They figured the daily snowfalls and ice rain mix had kept the search parties away from their section of woods. Not a single hunter, trapper or even plane was seen in their area until spring and that’s the way they liked it.
    The snow came quickly and heavily that year. By the end of November they were completely buried in more than three feet. December came and went. The only reminder of Uncle’s death was the fried bluegill