Redo of a Romanceless Author’s Life Devoid of Love; Another Chance at Youth

Chapter 471.

Chapter 471. A Slow Day on a Farm. (4/6)

The two of us waited patiently on top of the rock. We didn’t move at all and remained perfectly still. We didn’t even talk.

Ten minutes.

Twenty.

Thirty.

I’d been keeping an eye out the entire time, but I never caught a glimpse of it even once.

Dawn, however, didn’t look discouraged at all. It seemed she was accustomed to playing the waiting game with feral hogs.

At the forty-minute mark, at long last, there was movement. I saw the feral hog peeking its head out from between two bushes surveying the field in front of it.

Dawn didn’t immediately pull the trigger.

She knew she had one chance. If she missed, that feral hog would certainly escape and we definitely wouldn’t see it again any time soon.

I watched the tense scene with bated breath. Just when would she finally pull the trigger? How long would she wait?

The feral hog seemed wary to step out into the open. In fact, two minutes after it poked its head out it retreated back into the bushes.

Ten minutes later, I spotted it again a short distance away from where it first appeared. It seemed it had set its eyes on one of the nearby wheat fields.

Considering how tall the wheat stalks were, it would be very useful in providing cover for it. As Dawn had said, this feral hog seemed quite intelligent.

It ducked back into the thicket of trees and continued to get closer to the wheat field.

“Dawn, are you not going to fire before it gets in the wheat field?”

“No, I want him to enter it. When he begins to eat, that’s when his guard will be the lowest. That will be my best chance to get him. The security of his body being hidden will be his demise.”

“But you won’t be able to see him.”

“I can see how the stalks of wheat bend from here. Going off the unnatural movement of the wheat in the field, it’s enough for me to pinpoint his exact location. Living on a farm, yuh get to see the way the wheat moves naturally with the wind every day. What looks like an impossible blind shot in the dark to a novice is a guaranteed kill to a veteran. Even if I can’t see its body directly, I can still see it.”

She spoke calmly, her voice was even soothing and reassuring, but her words were slightly chilling. She had not a shred of sympathy when it came to these feral hogs and I suppose it made sense. They made her hard-working father’s job even harder than it already was, so why would she show them any mercy?

They were no better than greedy gluttonous thieves who only cared for themselves. They didn’t care whether someone else worked hard to grow these crops. They even felt entitled as if it was only natural that these crops should be used to keep them well fed. Another person’s livelihood, what did they care about something like that for? They got to do zero work but reaped all of the farmer’s rewards for doing nothing.

Somehow… they weren’t just like humans in a sense. It might be more correct to say that there were many humans who were actually feral hogs in disguise, feral hogs wearing the skin of humans.

I really didn’t know how to feel about the comparison. I suppose I felt perplexed, frustrated, at the thought. Imagining feral hogs wearing human bodysuits. 

We... weren’t much better than them. You tend to dislike the things you see yourself in.

Bang!

My body jolted from the abrupt gunshot fired without warning. My back straightened up, and my eyes focused on the sight depicted in the binoculars. The field of wheat. I couldn’t see the feral hog at all, but the bullet had definitely been fired into the field while I was zoned out just now.

“Did you… get him?” I asked Dawn hesitantly.

“Yeah. If I missed he’d have definitely run off immediately. Since there’s no movement, the bullet definitely went through his head.”

“Seriously?”

“Yeah.”

“What if he’s just playing dead?”

“Want to check?”

“Sure. But are you just going to leave it there? Don’t you have to dispose of the carcass?”

“Yeah, I do have to dispose of it. They smell awful when they’re decaying so I usually drag them off to an open area for coyotes and vultures to scavenge their remains. The body’s usually gone in 48 hours.”

“Is burning them not an option?”

“Whether yuh just let their carcasses rot or burn, they smell absolutely awful just the same. I’ve found it’s best to just let wild animals scavenge their remains.”

“I see.”

“Yuh can wait here if yuh want while I move it. The smell of a feral hog can be pretty bad even when it’s not decaying.”

“It can’t be that bad, right?”

“Well, how bad it smells depends on your luck.”

“How would you describe the smell exactly?”

“Hmm… that’s a bit hard to say. I’ve never really thought about how to describe it to someone who’s never smelled one before. It just smells like a feral hog to me.”

“It’s not like I have anything better to do so I’ll tag along.” I was a bit curious now.

“Then come with me.”

Rather than head in the direction of the feral hog, she walked in the direction of the stable.

“Why’re you going to the stable?”

“Feral hogs can weigh 200 pounds, there’s no way I’m moving that thing by myself. I can’t easily drive a vehicle in the wheat field where the feral hog is, but it isn’t a very difficult task for horses to get there and drag it by rope instead.”

It seemed those horses really did have some unexpected uses and weren’t just there to look good.

Dawn led two horses out from the stable with two thick ropes in hand and we made our way over to the feral hog’s corpse in the wheat field. The second I got within a meter of it and inhaled I gagged, covered my mouth, and pinched my nose.

“God, you weren’t kidding.”

“Told yuh.”

I wasn’t even sure how you’d describe this stench. Musty damp fur maybe? It was a very pungent odor and its black fur somehow reminded me of the smell from the black mushy sludge that accumulates over time in the P trap under your sink when it gets clogged. That scent always made me gag.

“Why the hell do they smell so bad? What do these bastards do all day?”

“The mud they wallow in is full of urine and feces. Male hogs even greet each other by urinating on each other. Basically, it all ferments together and turns into a nasty mess.”

“Gross. I think I’ve learned enough about feral hogs for one day.”

Dawn approached the hog and tied the two thick ropes she’d brought with her, one to each of the feral hog's hind legs. She tied the other ends of the rope to the horses and had them drag the hog with her leading the way.

She looked pretty accustomed to it, she didn’t hesitate at all, and her movements were all natural and fluid. I followed along closely by her side until we arrived at our destination.

It was an open area filled with knee-high grass surrounded by six trees. There were a lot of bones scattered across the ground and in piles. The smell in the area was far from pleasant, but it was a good distance away from the farm.

Once we arrived, Dawn removed a very sharp carbon steel hunting knife from a leather sheath she’d strapped to her right thigh. I hadn’t noticed it before now, it seemed she’d picked it up when she was inside the stable. Rather than untying the rope from around the feral hog’s legs, she cut it instead.

She stood up and removed the ropes attached to the horses, rolled it up, and asked, “Do yuh mind holding this for me?”

“Sure, it’s the least I can do since you’re already taking care of everything.”

“Thanks.”

“We’re done now, right?”

“Done? Almost. Just give me one sec, I’ve got one last thing to do.”

“What else do you need to do?”

Rather than explain, she turned around and approached the feral hog again. Without warning, she plunged the knife into its body. Despite being careful trying to avoid getting her clothes dirty, a few drops of blood still splattered onto her cheek as she cut through its flesh like butter leaving behind a large gaping wound in its belly. 

My lips parted slightly as I was a bit caught off guard by the sudden grotesque scene of its innards and blood gushing out onto the ground.

She was unphased. Those tranquil sky blue eyes of hers contrasted greatly with the crimson on her cheek, yet they still reflected her usual calm nature that hardly matched the current bloodied scene. I couldn’t help but think that it was a picture-perfect representation of the beauty and the beast. 

Something about it was a little scary.

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