by Jo McCready
#
The twins plodded on through the long grass that alternated between tickling their shins and scratching them.
“This is hopeless. There’s no cat,” one of them complained. If truth be told, he was more than a little scared, but didn’t want to show it to his brother, who had always been the more adventurous of the two.
“Aye, there is, we just have to find it,” his brother replied, whacking at the grass with a stick he’d found amongst the trees. Flies scattered from their perches on the plants to find more animal waste to consume.
“We’ll need to come back another day. Mam will be looking for us for our tea soon.”
“One more minute. Look.” He pointed up the hill and unknowingly in the direction of the hidden cave. “We’ll get to the top and have a look. If we can’t see it from up there, we’ll go home, come back on Saturday when we’ve got more time. If we can’t see it, then maybe we can go looking for snakes. Alfie Edwards says he found one in the rocks near that cliff over there.”
“Aye, okay,” the first reluctantly agreed, keen to get back to the safety of their pub and even their annoying little sister. “But I wouldn’t believe anything Alfie Edwards says. He talks pish and you know it. If he did find something, they were probably just slow worms. They’re no snakes, you know,” he told his brother with a grimace.
They stood, looking all the while like little old men, their hands on their hips as they tried to catch their breath before tackling their last summit.
“Yeah, well, just imagine telling him and everyone else at school when we find the cat.”
The first twin didn’t want to think about the possibility of finding the cat but traipsed on after his brother, in the hope that they’d soon be heading home, exhausted and empty-handed but in one piece.
#
RJ slowed and caught her breath. She was fit but not up to fell running like this. Maybe the panic was starting to set in. Logically, she knew that both she and Stuart had been on this land twice and hadn’t come across anything, so the likelihood that the boys would stumble upon the big cat was small, but what if they did find they were looking for . . . or what if it found them?
She looked across the green countryside. The sheep were spread out and grazing, which could only be a good sign. There were no little red heads bobbing among them. What she could see was Stuart’s car off in the distance and a Land Rover coming from the other direction, dust kicking up from the tires.
She turned back and shielded the sun from her eyes. Movement down by the water of the estate’s reservoir caught her eye, and she tried to focus on the dark shadow.
“Damn it,” she muttered in exasperation. It wasn’t them, just a trick of the light from a lonely cloud floating overhead. She stood at the top of the hill and slowly rotated three-hundred-and-sixty degrees, searching out over the hills and glens below. All that was here, or all she could see, were sheep. Just sheep and more sheep; lambs almost the size of their mothers, all of their wool recently shorn off. She took a breath, then repeated the process. Nothing. The boys weren’t here, perhaps they never had been or perhaps they had come and gone. Gone under their own stead or . . .
It didn’t bear thinking about.
#
Stuart saw the dust from the vehicle coming his way before the Land Rover crested the hill. Both cars stopped, facing each other. Wullie Carstairs and Stuart locked eyes. Anger mixed with terror emanated from the older man’s eyes.
“Just what are you doing here?” the gamekeeper asked before he had fully extracted himself from the car.
“Looking for the boys. I told you. We have to find them before something else does.”
“That’s no’ what I meant, and you know it,” Carstairs growled at him.
“We’re private investigators, hired to look into James Sullivan’s death. None of that matters now. We have to find the boys.”
Carstairs gave a grim nod. “The rest of the boys are checking other areas; I’ve got three other keepers today. They all know what’s what. We’ll find them.” His voice wavered over the last statement. “Get in, that car’s useless off road.”
Stuart got in the Land Rover and listened to the agitated radio chatter that pierced the air as reports from the other gamekeepers came through.
“Nothing by Smith’s brook.”
“No sightings from Giant’s tor.”
Carstairs picked up the radio. “Mrs. Webster, you head down to the pub. Keep an eye out and let us know if the boys return.”
“Yes, Mr. Carstairs.”
“And Betty . . . don’t give anything away.”
He put the radio down and grabbed the gear stick in one swift move. The car lurched forward as it pulled off the road and started the climb around the side of a hill, leaning over to the side and putting the driver’s side higher than the passenger.
“That your wife up there?” Carstairs nodded towards RJ’s solitary figure high on a hill ahead.
“Yes. She figured it out and we came after the boys.”
“If she figured it out, then she should be smart enough to know that being out in the open like that is stupid and reckless. I wouldn’t let my wife do something like that.”
“We didn’t have much choice,” Stuart snapped back. “And she’s not really my wife.”
“Even so, bloody stupid thing to do.”
The car bumped over rocks and ruts, Carstairs paying no heed to any attempt to soften the ride, caring only about covering ground and fast.
“There’s been carcasses found over a huge area, so we can’t pinpoint her location. She always seems one step ahead of us,” he explained reluctantly.
“She?”
“Aye, she. We’re lucky it’s a she. Males roam a far greater area and are bigger.”
“What exactly are we dealing with here?” Stuart asked.
“A black panther,” Carstairs told him. “A fully grown and pissed off black panther. A jaguar, to be precise. Pure, solid muscle.”
#
RJ wiped the sweat out of her eyes. Her shirt was sticking to her back and a dribble of moisture ran down between her shoulder blades. Let’s think about this logically. Two small boys wouldn’t have hiked far, they’d be dilly-dallying, meandering over the land, exploring nooks and crannies. They shouldn’t be this far in. In her haste to cover ground and get to a higher point, she must have come too far.
RJ turned back the way she had come, aiming for the trees in the distance. The trees where the boys had likely come through at the start of their adventure. They must be somewhere between there and here. She carefully made her way down the slope. The last thing she needed was to injure herself like Stuart had.
At the bottom, she started to run across the grass, scattering the sheep that grazed on the juicy green shoots. Over a hillock and round a pile of rocks she ran, constantly looking around, searching for the two little boys who could be in grave danger.
She took out her phone and dialed Stuart’s number. “I’ve found them,” she told him, staring up at the figures of the twins as they climbed the hill in front of her.
Chapter 23
She climbed slowly, so as not to alert the boys and frighten them off. The last thing she wanted, now that she had finally found them, was for them to take flight and have her chase them all over again.
They disappeared out of sight over the top of the hill, and she began to crawl upwards on her hands, pulling herself up over moss-covered rocks, rabbit holes that had long since held any animals, and jaggy nettles that pricked at her hands with what should have been a warm spiky sensation that grew with each second. She was oblivious to it all; the only thing she was aware of was her need to get to the boys.
She could hear them chattering away up ahead.
“Right, nothing. I told you. Come on. Home.”
“Aye, fine. Just a minute, though. Here.” He pulled out a squashed jam sandwich wrapped in cling film, unwrapped it, tore it in half and offered it to his brother.
The boy shrugged and chewed on his sandwich, looking out over the expanse of the estate below them. Luckily, the incline was too steep on the side of the hill for them to notice RJ making her way towards them, unless they decided to get close to the edge and peer directly over.
“We need a plan,” the adventurous one stated.
“Aye.”
“We’ll go to the library after school, find out more about them and where they like to live and what they like to eat. Then we’ll be able to find it.”
“Well, they don’t like to live in bloody Scotland.”
“Aye, well . . . I mean up trees, near water. That sort of stuff.”
“We don’t even know what it is,” the more-timid one reasoned. He sighed dramatically. His legs were sore and he could feel his cheeks starting to burn. Their mum wasn’t going to be happy that they’d forgotten to put their sunscreen on before leaving for the afternoon. Hell, if Mum was going to be upset over that, then she’d be raging that they’d gone off on the estate and absolutely livid that they were hunting a big wild cat.
“You know that this might be a load of rubbish, don’t you? There might be nothing up here.” He secretly hoped this was the case. A paltry stick between the two of them wasn’t much defense against a wild animal.
A grunt behind them made them freeze in mid-bite.
“What was that?” The braver twin suddenly grasped at the hand of his brother.
Slowly, they turned round, shaking like the last quivering leaves left on a nearly naked tree.
The jaguar sat a good ten meters away, sunlight bouncing off her luxurious coat, her spots and rosettes shining through her dark fur. She tilted her head to the side, studying the curious little creatures in front of her. Her mouth was partially open, allowing them to see her pink tongue and the intimidating canines on her lower jaw.
As the brave twin felt the warmth of his bladder releasing down his leg, he suddenly regretted his idea to come looking for the animal that now sat in front of him. He gripped his brother tighter and let out a strangled squeak.
“Don’t run, don’t move,” his brother told him. The acrid tang of urine that emanated from his brother made him realize that he had to take charge. He pushed the fear down and squeezed his twin’s hand to let him know he was there and that he’d make it all right . . . somehow.
RJ could no longer hear the boys and hoped they hadn’t decided to go off down the other side. She picked up her pace, her stinging hands scraping painfully on the rocks. She looked behind her. There was no sign of Stuart or the Land Rover. Perhaps the boys had seen one of the cars and gotten spooked. When she peeked over the hill, she saw the boys’ upper bodies. They seemed to be frozen in place, unable to move.
Damn it, she didn’t like the look of this. Ducking back down, she reached for the knife in her ankle strap. She took a deep breath and blew it out between her teeth. Gripping the knife in her fist, she gently raised herself up to survey the scene.
The boys were still in place. Beyond them, a muscular black head turned her way. The jaguar seemed perfectly relaxed, pondering the scene. RJ could see the boys shaking uncontrollably, unsure of what to do next, caught like rabbits in the headlights of the jaguar’s gaze. They were cognizant enough to know that if they tried to run, they wouldn’t stand a chance against the muscular beast who was, so obviously, the one in control of the situation.
RJ slowly raised herself to her feet, keeping low to appear as less of a threat, but ready to react when the need arose. She shuffled through the grass and spoke in a low voice, as much not to spook the animal as to not spook the boys.
“’S’alright, boys. You’re going to be okay. This is fine, don’t worry. We’re going to get you out of this. Everything is going to be fine.”
The boys stared straight ahead but the one nearest to her gave an almost imperceptible nod. They didn’t seem surprised to see her, or even relieved at all that someone else was there. The unpredictability of people in stressful situations was a threat to all of their safety. Children, who generally possessed less self-control, were all the more unpredictable. If there was ever a situation that was not ideal, it was this one.
“Don’t make any sudden moves, okay?” she told them in a calm voice that sounded confident but was anything but. “Now, I’m just going to move slowly . . .”
The jaguar jerked her head at a sound only audible to her, and the world stood still. RJ stopped mid-step and held her breath.
The jaguar looked back at them, its golden eyes shining with a predatory self-assurance.
RJ placed her foot tentatively on the grass, her eyes never leaving the cat’s for a second. When there were no further changes in movement, RJ continued her slow shuffle towards the terrified boys, all the while talking to them in soft tones. Her hand felt slick on the hilt of the knife. She prayed she’d have the strength to use it effectively against what was basically a wall of muscle that had been honed over thousands of years to become a highly efficient killing machine. She’d try and go for the neck—if she had any choice in the matter. She knew nothing about animal anatomy, but assumed it would be the most vulnerable area. If she could just keep it busy for long enough, hold its attention. The odds weren’t in her favor, and yet she continued on until she stood in front of the twins, providing them with a poor defensive barrier.
The jaguar looked on, then stood up, stretching its hind legs. RJ watched in amazement at the similarity of this action to an ordinary everyday feline. It began to pace along the rocky ledge, drawing RJ’s attention to the shallow cave behind it.
We’ve walked right into its lair, RJ realized. Both she and Stuart had walked close by each time they’d hiked through the estate before and had seen no sign of it. So why now? Why had it decided to show itself now? RJ’s thoughts went to the boys behind her. Easy and juicy targets to the jaguar.
A voice, barely above a whisper came from behind her. “What do we do now?”
“I don’t know . . . I guess we wait for help and try not to aggravate it.”
“I want my mum,” came a whimper from the other side.
“It’ll be okay, boys. I’m not going to let anything happen to you,” RJ muttered as she watched the jaguar walk to and fro, its movements increasingly impatient. Her instinct was to turn sideways, to present less of a target and set up a fighting stance, but she had to provide as wide a shield as possible for the twins behind her. She raised her arms out to the side in a stance not unlike a ballet dancer, trying to make herself look bigger and more intimidating to the beast. It went against what every cell in her body was screaming at her to do.
The jaguar stopped again and lifted its head as if to scent the air. Soon after, RJ heard what the cat must have heard: the rumble of an engine coming closer. It sat back down on the rock and waited.
“Hear that, boys? Help is on its way. We’re going to get you out of here soon.”
The boy over her right shoulder started to sniff, holding back tears that threatened to spill over and consume him.
“We’re all right, we’re all right, we’re all right, we’re all right,” came his brother’s whispered response.
RJ slowly swapped her knife to her other hand and wiped her palm on her shorts. Any movement was a risk, but she needed a firm grip. It wasn’t much of a weapon, and it looked like the jaguar knew that as it stood watching them. It was toying with them, like a domestic pet tormenting a mouse.
Hurry. RJ willed the arrival of Stuart or the Land Rover that was roaming the estate. Her prayers were answered when the Land Rover pulled up parallel to them on the slope behind her.
Carstairs leveled a shotgun on the jaguar as Stuart crept out of the passenger side and around the back of the car. “Okay, boys, what you’re going to do is calmly and slowly turn around, and then very carefully walk towards me.”
The jaguar looked on. RJ was amazed that it hadn’t run in fear when the car p
ulled up. That wasn’t a good sign.
“I’ll stay here until you get the boys in the car,” she said, angling her head slightly over her shoulder so Stuart could hear her.
He hesitated. It made sense. Provide a target for the jaguar while the boys got out of range, but Stuart had a sense of loyalty towards his colleague and now friend. “Okay,” he breathed, unsure how he could even consider the idea.
“I can’t,” one of the boys said in a scared voice.
“You can,” RJ, Stuart, and his brother told him in unison.
Stuart leaned forward and held out his hand. “Come on now.”
The twin on the left gently tugged at his brother’s sleeve and they slowly swiveled round, eyes closed and gulping in unison.
Stuart nodded and let out a breath. “Come forward, just slowly now and careful where you put your feet. Whatever you do, don’t stumble.”
The terrified boy with the wet patch down the front of his shorts opened his eyes wide in terror and the realization of what would likely happen if one of them were to fall.
“We can do this. We’ll do it together,” his brother told him.
Stuart focused on the boys and their slow progress towards him, afraid to look up at the jaguar and his partner that stood between them.
The twins’ passage was excruciatingly slow. Stuart inched forward, wanting to envelop them in his arms but knowing that was impossible. His fingers touched their hands before he moved forward to provide another line of defense. They moved tightly as a unit to the other side of the car, then Stuart pushed them in, in quick succession, before shutting the door.
The jaguar had watched the proceedings with an air of bemused boredom, but snapped her head up at the slam of the door.
“They’re safe, your turn,” Stuart told RJ.
RJ’s legs felt like they could give way and betray her at any moment. She swallowed and took a step backwards. Unlike the boys who’d had something between themselves and the jaguar, RJ was too exposed to turn away and had little choice but to back away, her eyes on the danger ahead.