Jack and I settled on the couch. I read a few comic books, lingering on the back pages. Sea monkeys for sale. They had a drawing that showed you the sea monkeys swimming in a fish bowl. They were a regular family, a mom, a dad, a couple of kids. The sea monkeys had faces and you could see they were all happy. It didn’t cost too much to get them. Might be kind of cool.
Suddenly I heard the clatter of the trash can lids. Jack barked and jumped off the couch. Still pretty early; must be raccoons. I got up and looked out the window.
Coyote.
My heart hammered wildly. My feet froze in place and my mind went blank. A sharp bark from Jack brought me into focus.
I ran to the kitchen, stumbling over Jack, who ran beside me.
“Stay here,” I commanded. I threw open the cupboard and snatched the camera from the shelf, opening the back door at the same time. I started through the door but the strap caught on the doorknob.
“Oh, no,” I said, trying to jerk the strap free.
In that moment, Jack squeezed out behind me and bounded down the porch steps.
“Jack!” I yelled. I saw the coyote tear up through the woods with Jack not far behind him.
I dropped the camera and charged out the door after them.
“Jack!” Images of Shadow flashed through my mind, mangled flesh and bone. Mutilated cats and chickens.
The sound of thrashing branches and my pounding footsteps filled my ears. I spotted Jack ahead and flew even faster through the woods. Thin branches whipped my cheeks, but I felt no pain. I focused on Jack’s trail, yet I was aware of the entire woods. My thoughts reduced to action: jump, duck, faster.
We ran at a sharp right angle and I began to see through the trees to a clearing. I heard a muffled pop. Prater’s yard. The coyote slipped out of the woods and bolted across the lawn to the upper wood line. Jack flew out of the woods next and raced across the yard.
As I came out of the trees, I saw Prater coming down the tree house steps with his rifle. Prater looked up, saw me, then glanced in the direction I was headed and spotted Jack. A look of pure hatred crossed his face. He pulled the lever down, loaded the gun, and ran after Jack.
“No!” I shrieked.
Prater ran fast up the clearing; he had a good head start on me. Fear, deadly fear, washed over me as I watched him disappear into the upper woods after Jack.
A new course of energy flowed through me. My feet became quicker and my movements more sure. I lit through the clearing and sliced into the woods. I could see Prater a short distance ahead of me. Anger fueled my flight.
“Stop!” I shouted.
He didn’t break pace. I raced forward, closing the gap between us, so close I could hear his heavy breathing. I reached out and snatched the hem of his shirt. He jerked away and kept running. I fell forward but regained my footing and charged him like a bull after a red flag. He went down with me on top of him. I grabbed the gun and hurled it away with all my might.
Prater scrambled and threw me off, grunting. Then he jumped on me, crushing my ribs with his knee. All the wind got knocked out of me. I looked into his eyes. They were full of hate. Everything he’d done to me this summer flashed by in an instant. I summoned up all that was in me and, roaring, I slammed my fist into his gut.
He groaned and fell to the side, clutching his stomach.
I had no time to waste on him. I tore up the mountain following the direction I’d last seen Jack.
“Hey!” Prater’s angry voice called up to me. I glanced back. He’d grabbed the gun and was trying to catch up.
I set my face forward. I was not afraid. This mountain was mine and Jack’s territory.
I reached the top of a small hill and stopped. My chest heaved and my lungs were on fire. My heart beat fast but strong, and I held my breath for a second. Then I heard a kind of huffing sound, like Jack and I had heard before. I followed the sound up the tree line and crept around a dense thicket.
There, in front of a huge overturned tree, stood the coyote. Jack was not ten feet from it.
We stood in a deadly triangle.
The coyote looked like a wiry German shepherd, gray with black mixed in. He lowered his stance and held his bushy tail straight out from his back. His lips curled back to reveal sharp, white teeth. His yellow eyes shifted from Jack to me.
The hairs on the back of my neck stood up. My chest hollowed out with fear. My legs locked and I couldn’t move my arms.
I looked at Jack. He stood erect, with his skinny tail curved over his back. Fur bristled along his spine. He knew I was there, but he didn’t waver—his eyes were set on the coyote.
Heavy footsteps plodded around the bushes. “Now you’re going to get it,” Prater shouted. “You and your stupid dog—”
His words hung in the air; his footsteps froze behind me.
The coyote rumbled a wicked growl.
“Shoot.” My voice came out as a croak. “Shoot!”
I turned. Prater stood like a white statue. He was stupefied.
“Gimme the gun!” I grabbed it out of his useless hands and in the same motion cocked it and turned back to see the white underbelly of the coyote lunging at me. I roared and fired the gun, but not before I saw Jack leap toward the coyote.
He was power and grace, his fur golden as he jumped through the last rays of the sunset. His eyes blazed with purpose. His ears flushed with heat. His body arced like an arrow through the air, each flank showing hard muscle. He was beautiful.
I saw a flash of teeth, heard the report of the rifle, and both Jack and the coyote fell to the ground. The coyote did not move again.
My legs gave way and I sank to the ground. I dropped the gun. I was dimly aware of Prater moving around now behind me.
“Jack, Jack,” I murmured, crawling up to him. “It’s okay,” I said gently. But when I cradled his head, I saw that it was not okay. That it would never be okay. Jack’s throat was ripped open. Blood colored his neck and spilled onto the dirt.
My shoulders shook and tears filled my eyes, spilling over. I pressed my lips together to hold back the hurt, but I could not stop the tears that rolled down my cheeks. “Jack … Jack …” A painful ache welled up in my throat. With one hand, I swiped at my eyes.
Jack jerked his back legs, trying to get up. I let out a yelp racked with pain and sorrow. Jack’s eyes were wet and the rims of his eyes faded. His ears paled. Tears blurred my vision of him.
I looked up at Prater, who was still white. “Help me,” I said hoarsely. “Please!”