The acrid odor of cordite filled the blind. Norah was cognizant of someone shouting but the ringing in her ears prevented her from determining what was being said. She rolled to her knees and tried to sit up. A wave of vertigo forced her to remain near the damp earth. She probed her ear, the one closest to the shot, and was thankful she detected no blood. Fortunately, the point blank shot hadn’t ruptured her eardrum.
Next to her, she could feel Jason’s body. He was clutching his 30.06 with both hands. The muzzle was pointed into the clearing where the cat had first showed.
“You hurt?” she asked. The ringing had lessened to not much more than a nuisance.
“That was too damn close,” Jason said, indicating no. He helped Norah to her feet.
“Where’s Cunningham?” she asked, looking over one shoulder. She found the big game hunter ranting and raving behind the blind. Both Goliath and Mr. T were circling in a tight radius near a gnarled stump of dead tree.
“I’m going to see what’s got Gunther so riled up,” she said.
“Keep your guard up.” Jason stood and stepped into the clearing. He walked out toward the bait trap.
Climbing from the blind, Norah approached Cunningham. She thought his normally ruddy complexion had paled considerably under the lightening sky.
Cunningham pointed next to a broken branch on the ground. “Nice shot,” he said, devoid of sarcasm.
Norah saw her tranquilizer dart lying next to the branch. The needle was missing and when she examined the syringe, she found only half the Telazol had been injected. She had no difficulty guessing where the dart’s missing needle could be collected.
“I wasn’t aiming for his front leg,” she said.
“You got more than I got.”
Norah looked to where the dogs were circling, expecting to find a massive feline form sprawled across the forest-laden earth. Instead, she saw they’d cornered the large porcupine.
“Halt!” Cunningham ordered. “I’ve half a mind to let that pesky varmint teach them dogs a lesson. Them quills are sharp as fish hooks.”
Obediently the mastiffs backed away, though they appeared none too pleased.
“Where’s the cat?” Norah asked. “I heard you shoot.”
Cunningham spit in exasperation. “Hell, girl, I was just trying to keep the bastard from landing in the goddamn blind. That last leap must’ve covered at least forty feet. If I’d known the cat was that fucking big I would’ve brought a damn howitzer.”
Norah checked the general path the Smilodon had taken after passing over the blind. Just like that the cat had vanished. She never would’ve believed an animal so huge could move so fast. Beyond the trees, the ridge rose gradually toward subalpine forests of spruce and larch. Higher up, she saw snow-faced boulders and more trees until their stark detail became buried in the low overcast.
“You think you hit it?” she asked, scanning the ground around her feet.
Cunningham shook his head. “I already looked. Not one goddamn speck of blood.” He glanced back toward the blind. “You know, your friend there saved that pretty head of yours. If you’d stayed standing like you was you’d have made your daddy awful angry for his Grand Opening.”
Norah agreed tacitly. She felt foolish. Standing up in front of a half-ton killing machine with nothing but a pea shooter would surely go down as one of the most stupid stunts she’d ever pulled. She hated to think what one of those huge raking paws would’ve done to her face.
Jason was examining the tracks in the glade when she and Cunningham wandered back.
“How are the dogs?” he asked.
Cunningham shrugged. “Fine, a little agitated, I suppose, but ain’t we all.”
Jason ran his finger across one depression, not saying much.
When he rose, Norah offered her hand. “Thank you,” she said.
“For what?”
“Giving me my shot. And saving my life.”
Jason kept hold of her palm. “I should’ve plugged the bastard when I had the chance.”
“I want that cat,” Norah said resolutely.
“You and everyone else in this valley.” Jason released his grip and directed his gaze at Cunningham. “You staying or coming?” he asked.
“You’re not considering going after that monster?”
“That’s why I’m here.”
“You’re both nuts.” Cunningham motioned to his dogs. “Goliath, Mr. T, and me, we’ll stay. Them two canines are worth seventy-five hundred bucks a piece, and working on open savannah worth every damn cent.” He gazed up toward the rugged ridgeline. “But up there, the playing field’s no longer level. I’m used to being the ambusher, not the one getting ambushed. This big bastard’s hungry, he’ll be back down. And me, Goliath, and Mr. T, we’ll be waiting. It’ll be like shooting a duck in a bathtub.”
Jason reached for his pack and rifle.
Cunningham looked serious. “Mr. Bristol, you ever stop to think you might be walking right into this SOB’s lair?”
Jason scratched at the exposed lump of scar on his neck. “It won’t be the first time,” he replied.
Norah dashed around the dogs to retrieve her 280, tranquilizer rifle, and rucksack. “I’m going with you,” she said.
“You can watch me kill it then.”
“Give me one more chance. Please,” Norah coaxed.
“That wasn’t the deal.”
“Goddammit, Jason, I got four darts left.”
“A hundred darts wouldn’t phase this behemoth.” Jason circled around the rear of the blind.
Norah ran after him. “I swear I won’t miss.”
“You didn’t miss the last time.”
“I’m going.”
“It’s your land.”
Cunningham watched the pair circle away from the blind. “Keep your heads,” he called after them, before breaking out some water for Goliath and Mr. T.