The calf was nearby, pressed low to the ground, eyes wide with fear. It let out a soft, confused cry. The adult walrus thrashed again inside the net, its low moans vibrating in Caleb’s chest. Two poachers stood nearby, catching their breath, eyes locked on the trapped animal.
“Get the others,” one of them said, pulling a radio from his coat. “Tell them we’ve got a big one. Might be the bull they were tracking last month. We’re gonna make a fortune off those tusks.” Caleb’s mouth went dry.
He looked around for any possible escape—anything he could use to free the net or distract them—but there was nothing. Just crates, barrels, torn tents, and those same two men, now pacing and grinning like they’d hit the jackpot.
“We should thank you, old man,” one of them added, glancing at Caleb. “If you hadn’t come wandering in, we might’ve missed him. You really made our day.” Caleb didn’t answer. He couldn’t. His heart raced, his thoughts spiraling.