Fucked.

That word ran amuck in Milo Halifax's mind. His life frequented those waters often. His job-fucked, his life-fucked, and this crime scene, completely fucked. Giving a look over the area, he scratched at his graying beard and reached in his pocket for a menthol.

He didn't know why the detectives wanted him around. He answered all their questions. He did his usual 8 am rounds. Checking the local fishing spots, handing out citations, and driving around campsites. Yet, one site lit up like a beacon among the rest, Site 180.

That was putting it light. The silver RV that parked there for the last two days had toppled on its side. The windows shattered and the sharp edges coated in red. Bloody handprints dashed long the RV side that was upright. Claw marks appeared on various areas of the RV. The fire pit also got worked over, the boulders tossed around camp.

Dumbfounded by the intensity, Milo took a drag from his cig. He rolled his tongue around the biting smoke. While the park experienced some incidents during his time, this one went to the top of his list.

"Ranger...Halifax? Correct?"

Averting his gaze, he sized up the short, pudgy-looking individual. He had a gruffness about him that Milo's seen in a handful run ins he had in his youth. The man removed his bloodied gloves and adjusted his frames. His blue shoe covers were now a muddied red. Extending his hand, Milo shook it.

"I'm Detective Scott McDermott. You spoke with my partner, Detective Elaina Tabares earlier. Can you walk me through what you saw one more time?" McDermott pulled a small notepad from his pocket. Clicking his pen he waited.

Milo sensed he got a thrill from solving crimes like these, but what does he know?

"Did my rounds around the park and got here about 10 am. Before I got close enough, I saw some blood out that way on some trees, at the entrance of the camp site. I went out to inspect it and that's when the stench hit."

A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.

"What stench?"

"Copper. You could taste it. Figured a bear wandered through the camp with a kill and freaked out the campers. When I walked up, I saw this." Milo motioned towards the scene. His cig wasn't finished, and he was already itching for another.

McDermott scribbled something down. "Did you receive any calls from anyone throughout the night, radio chatter? Anything?"

"Only one, it was from some campers located by McKenzie Lagoon. They said they heard noise. I went to inspect it. Nothing but some beavers. They're heading out this afternoon."

"Are there any known animal attacks out here? Could this be a coyote?"

Milo scoffed, causing McDermott to squint.

"You think a coyote did that?" Once again, he motioned towards the RV.

"I have to keep an open mind; you understand Mr. Halifax."

"Understandable, but...coyote?" Milo didn't bother hiding his facial expression.

McDermott glowered, puffing his cheeks out. "Okay, bear?"

"Ah, it's possible, if it was a group of six on a bender. You don't happen to expect a person might have done this?"

"Currently we have no inclination that it was a person. Once we gather the bodies, we'll autopsy them. We located tuffs of black fur and took molds of claw marks. Are you positive there hasn't been anything unusual happening in the past weeks?"

"No, I've heard about attacks from other rangers, but none mentioned anything like this."

McDermott wrote something else down before pausing. He looked at Milo with an quizzical expression. If he was aware of something he didn't want to disclose it. Sighing, he turned to gaze at his partner, who was escorting the coroners into the woods. They located a blood trail.

"I don't have authorization to close down the park, I do believe Ranger Halifax, your best bet would be to drive around the campsites and warn the campers."

"You mean cause a mass panic?"

"No, I mean do your job. Until we locate the animal, it's best to limit access to the park and make safety your top priority. Walk the trails, get people back to their sites. We'll keep you updated on reopening this area in the future."

Extending his hand, Milo shook it. He watched him walk away and follow the others into the woods. Rubbing the back of his neck he sighed.

"Warn the campers, I have to find them first." Frowning, he walked to his grey F250, slamming the door as he entered. He was on edge. Now 2 pm, time wasn't in his favor.

Once again, he reached for his favorite stress reliever. Lighting it, he took one last look at the scene. The corners broke through the trees. They were carrying a body bag and rushing to their vehicle. With the pace they were keeping he could tell the load was light.

"Please don't be a kid."