Man’s hubris leads to an explosive clash with nature
He looked back towards the barbed wire fence that marked the end of civilisation. A simple bribe was all it had cost Sherman Walsh to enter the most pristine landscape he’d ever seen. As a trophy hunter, he’d travelled the world, but not even the untouched beauty of the Serengeti could have prepared him for the vast richness that stretched out in front of him. Though there had been some talk of tourist travel here, for the moment it was completely void of unnatural life – perfect for a hunt.
He checked his gear again. The M1 rifle, his 0.50 sidearm, a pair of binoculars, and rations to last a week. The border guard had said he was mad to enter without more, but Sherman was a seasoned professional. His hunting lodge in Boone, North Carolina was full of prizes from all manner of creatures. On this particular hunt, he was after the prized Amur leopard. Rather than track it across Asia and deal with his competition, he’d opted to travel to a locale open only to animals (and the occasional military patrol). Speaking of, there went one now. The electric gates shuddered open as four men dressed in South Korean military fatigues drove out in a jeep. Sherman pressed himself low to the ground and smiled. The patrol was right on time. After this one, it would be a few hours before anyone came to check this side of the border, and he’s be deep in the wilderness.
As the drone of the jeep’s engine faded, Sherman slowly raised himself to a crouch and began the trek northwards. He’d estimated it to take a day to reach the area he’d marked out before, and another few days to complete the hunt. The animals here weren’t used to hunters, anyways, so how hard could it be?
Two days passed without much incidence, his only trouble being an unexpected patrol. He’d had to slide down a hill to avoid them, and nearly came close to being discovered. But they weren’t expecting anyone out here, and left soon enough. Sherman admired the untouched land, and how the animals prowled so close to an apex predator. If they only knew the fate that awaited them. After bagging the leopard, Sherman had big plans to settle here permanently. He wouldn’t harm anyone, so what was the issue?
As he began to set up camp for the third day, hollowing out a den in the dirt, he saw a flash in his peripherals. Swiftly, he whipped around and peered down the binoculars with a practiced eye, and a slow smile crept up his lips. There it was. The Amur leopard. Such beautiful spotted fur would really spice up his den. It was only a few hundred metres away, too, completely unaware of its impending demise. That was what excited Sherman the most. Knowing he held in his hands – quite literally, as he steadied his rifle – the means to its end. He looked down the scope, but the leopard was behind the treeline now. He’d have to creep closer to maximise accuracy. Sherman hit the dirt and began crawling forward, down a small hill to where he could see his prey. It looked like it was it was hunting, too. A fitting end. He tracked the cat in his scope and rested his finger on the trigger.
Suddenly, a twig snapped behind him. The noise startled Sherman, and he pressed down on the trigger. An instant later, the explosion of the rifle followed by the crack of the bullet hitting wood reached his now-ringing ears. But even in his deafened state he heard the roar as a huge black bear stood on its hind legs behind him. From the looks of it, it had already been through his rations, and, not finding anything of interest, had turned to him. How had it managed to sneak up on him? No matter, that was what the sidearm was for – and the bear pelt would make a good addition to the living room. He slowly reached down towards his hip and froze. The .50 was with the rations. For the first time in a long time, Sherman felt the cold grip of fear on his heart. The bear was only a few metres away now, slowly lumbering closer. His deafened ears couldn’t make out its growls anymore, but he recognised the predatory look in its eyes. A look he saw each day in the mirror.
Sherman knew he had to act. In a life-or-death situation like this, he gave into his own instincts, and threw the rifle spear-like at the bear’s face. He didn’t even wait to see if had connected before leaping down the hill, tumbling towards the treeline. Maybe he could climb a tree. Could black bears climb? He risked a glance back and saw with surprise that the bear was still at the top of the hill, just looking down at him. Why wasn’t it chasing him? The thought had only just crossed his mind when his foot snagged a loose root and he was thrown forward into a tumble. The last thing Sherman saw were the clouds in the cool evening sky before the ground exploded beneath him and he joined them.
Subject: Sherman Jeremy Walsh
Age: 47
Cause of Death: Explosive device, killed instantly.
Location: Kyeho-dong, Korean DMZ
To all personnel:
Inform the government of the incident. It is yet too dangerous to open the zone to tourists. – Lieutenant Hyun, 05/06/1999