The Michigan sky had faded to black, but the two hunters didn't notice the stars speckling the heavens overhead like pinholes in construction paper. They were too busy studying the frozen ground underneath their blind. The temperature had dropped with the setting sun, but neither man would admit he was cold. Thankfully, the blind was nestled in the trees at the edge of a cornfield, so the walled structure saved them from the worst of the wind.

What they were doing was technically illegal since it was an hour after dark. However, no one would report their poaching— Jason was sure of that. They were on private land. His dad's farm. Besides, the closest neighbor was a half-mile away, and they'd be out spotting deer tonight as well. Times were tough. With rising grocery prices, a freezer full of venison would let a family put food on the table and still pay the mortgage. And since their wages at the packaging plant were barely above the state minimum, the cousins could use all the help they could get.

Jason was younger by a year, but the men could've passed for twins. They were both of average height and build with scruffy beards and cheap haircuts usually covered by ball caps. Tonight they wore orange wool hats instead. As Jason studied the shadowy field below them, he heard a twig snap in the distance.

Derek whispered, "I bet it's the herd finally coming in."

"Are you sure? It could be the Great Pumpkin." Jason raised his high-powered spotlight to the opening, aiming it at their bait pile.

Ignoring the jab, the older cousin said, "Hold up. The buck is always the last one to come out."

"I know. I'm not stupid." Jason moved his finger over the switch but left the spotlight off.

A minute went by. Then another. Neither man dared to move as countless deer emerged from the trees to graze in the field. Eventually, a larger shape joined the herd. Its antlers were barely visible against the dark night.

Derek tapped Jason on the leg before raising his rifle to his shoulder. His message was clear— be ready! Jason leaned forward on his stool, his focus on the horned beast at the rear of the pack. Derek rested the gun stock on the windowsill to steady the muzzle. He brought an eye to the sight, leaving the other one open so he could zero his crosshairs on the target.

"Now," Derek whispered.

Jason turned on the spotlight.

Almost as bright as the sun, the thousand lumens lit up the field beneath them. The herd consisted of at least twenty does and a buck— a giant eight-pointer. The light trapped most of them where they stood. A few deer managed to run off, but not the buck. He was pinned to his spot by the high-powered light.

It was an easy shot from only thirty yards away. Jason would've liked the kill for himself, but it was his cousin's turn. Jason had taken the last buck to come their way. Derek placed his finger on the trigger and pulled back slowly as he exhaled. The rifle cracked loudly as the bullet left the barrel at three thousand feet per second. In the blink of an eye, the tiny projectile punctured the creature's hide, missed a rib, and shredded its heart.

The buck didn't register the mortal wound— not until it took three leaping steps and collapsed in the bait pile. The remaining deer disappeared into the darkness.

"Nice shot," Jason said.

Derek replied, "Yeah. It would've sucked to have to track it in this cold."

"Tell me about it."

Jason gathered their supplies while Derek secured his weapon. All packed up, the pair descended the fifteen feet to the ground. Jason aimed the light at their kill. Blood seeped from the buck's side, soaking the kernels of corn underneath its cooling body. Kneeling next to it, they studied the buck's antlers. Both men whistled at the huge rack.

"Wow. He's a monster," Jason said.

"Hell, yeah. I think I'll have it mounted."

"Yep. Your trailer should have at least one nice rack in it."

Derek pushed his cousin. "Screw you. Anything more than a handful is a waste."

"How would you know?" Jason asked.

As much as the men were alike in height and stature, their wives were polar opposites. Derek's wife was petite— almost boyish, but her personality was sweeter than apple pie. While Jason's spouse was full-bodied and brash with a mouth like a trucker but he loved her all the same.

"Whatever. Let's gut this thing."

"Yeah, I'm freezing."

Setting the flashlight down, Jason flipped the buck over on its back. Derek removed his gloves and pulled a knife from the sheath on his belt. He cut off the testicles and tossed them at his cousin. They hit Jason in the stomach before falling to the dirt. "Asshole."

"What? I thought you could use a pair," Derek cackled.

"Fuck you," Jason picked up the light. "Maybe you should take them— since yours never get to leave your wife's purse."

He wasn't concerned about hurting his cousin's feelings. Nor did Derek worry himself with pissing off Jason. They were beyond such pleasantries. No. The two men spent so much time together, they were practically brothers, and their barbed jabs were how they showed their love for one another. The spotlight bounced up and down as Jason laughed at his latest taunt.

"Hold it steady, dickhead," Derek muttered as he used the holes left from the testicles to start his incision.

With the hook on the backside of his knife, he slit the buck from groin to sternum. The hook allowed him to avoid the stomach and intestines as he sliced through the deer's coarse hide. Afterwards, Derek removed the entrails and set them on the ground.

Jason's phone rang in his pants pocket. Juggling the light, he answered the call from his wife. "Hello."

"Where are you?" Lizzie asked.

"Hunting."

"Still?"

"Yeah, Derek bagged a buck. We're gutting it now."

"Ok. I was worried you'd snuck off to see some whore."

"And who would that be?"

Lizzie said, "I don't know— maybe that slut cashier down at the Walmart."

"Me? No. What would I do with another woman? I can barely keep up with you."

"Got that right. So what did Derek shoot?"

"An eight-pointer."

"Figures. Yours was only a six— never quite measure up to your cousin, do you?"

"I measure up where it counts," Jason said louder than he'd planned. Derek stopped his work to eavesdrop on their conversation. Unlike his cousin's ribbing, Lizzie's teasing had an edge to it that could cut Jason to the bone.

"Good. Then get home and prove it to me," she snickered.

Jason turned his back on his cousin. "Oh, yeah? I could use some warming up. So why don't you get into bed, and I'll be home in an hour to give it to your ass good."

"I'll hold you to that. And you should know I've been a bad girl, so my ass will want it rough— not good."

Moving farther away from his cousin, Jason whispered, "I know what you like."

"Oh, yeah. What do I like?"

"Umm— "

"Is Derek listening?"

"Yeah."

"Then I'll fill in the blanks. I want you to eat my ass out while you're pulling my hair, then I want you to fuck me so hard that I can't walk afterwards, or I'll find someone who will."

"You do that," Jason growled. "And I'll mount you and your lover's heads on my wall next to my six-pointer."

She laughed. "You know I'm joking. I'll be naked and waiting."

"I know." For all her tough talk, he knew she tried to be a good wife.

"Love ya."

"Love you too." Jason ended the call and turned back to his cousin. "Sorry about that."

"No problem. Let's get this done. I'm cold too."

Jason aimed the light back on the dead buck, so Derek could separate the diaphragm from the ribs. Next, he removed the heart and lungs and set those organs next to the entrails. Completing the field dressing, he cut through the pelvis with a small saw from their bag before detaching the intestine from the deer's butt as well as removing the bladder. Derek was extra careful during this step; otherwise, urine and feces would spoil the tenderloins. The process wasn't pretty, but it was the reality of putting food on the table.

Contrary to what the average city person wanted to believe; meat didn't magically arrive in the grocery store in one-pound packages. Jason wished it did. Or at least, if the one-hundred-and-fifty-pound carcass could levitate itself to Derek's truck parked a quarter of a mile away at the road.

With a streetlamp on the two-lane byway guiding them to their destination, Jason clipped the spotlight to his belt and grabbed the deer by the antlers. "Ready?"

"Gimme a sec." Derek wiped his hands on his pants before slowly standing up. After being on his knees for so long, he stretched out his back before gripping the rear legs of the buck. He groaned, "Ok— I'm ready."

"You don't sound ready."

"Shut up! I'm busting my butt over here while all you did was hold a light."

"Fine. Do you need a cigarette first?" Jason asked.

"Good idea."

It had been hours since they'd lit up. The smell of nicotine would've tipped off their prey. Jason removed a pack from his inside pocket and offered a cigarette to Derek. They puffed away, admiring the quiet night.

But it was too quiet. Jason didn't like it. The night usually had some sounds. Mice. Varmints. Owls. Something. But there was nothing. Which was odd. Very odd.

It made him wonder if something else had an eye on their trophy. Coyotes were making a big comeback in the area— not that they scared Jason. They weren't much bigger than a dog, and they usually didn't bother people. However, a pack of wolves or a mountain lion could certainly pose a problem. The DNR was reluctant to admit either animal roamed the Michigan woods, but they were out there. In fact, just last winter, on the back edge of his dad's farm not two miles from here, he's seen a big cat with a long tail, so it was no bobcat.

Confirming his fears, the trees rustled at the wood line. And the wind wasn't the culprit. It had died off minutes ago, along with the sounds of the night. Jason's heart stopped when a branch snapped not forty feet from them. It was followed by heavy footsteps on the packed earth.

"What the hell?" Derek hissed.