the smuggler’s bible

Hiro

The hoofprints carry for a few hundred yards through the leaves and grass, then hit the pavement and disappear. Hiro stands for a long time and watches cars move through the mist out on the expressway.

“It’s big,” he says, turning. “Big and fast. The stride is almost twenty feet once it gets moving.”

“Yeah, so what? You want the antlers or something?”

“So even if I could catch it, which isn’t a certainty, why the hell would I?” Hiro starts back toward the car. “You saw something special out here. Maybe just accept that and try to move on.”