by Joe Augustyn
“Do I really have to answer that?” he responded scornfully, “Does anyone here honestly believe there’s an African leopard roaming the woods in this county?”
“So are you saying your boy is lying?” a man asked smugly, and immediately regretted the question as Owen shot him a look that said, I’ll be keeping an eye out for you.
“The boy was just in a nasty accident,” Owen answered. “On top of which he saw his best friend mauled by a wild animal. He was already hysterical with fear when I arrived on the scene. But I checked up on what he said, nevertheless. I sent out a general query and was told there are no wild cats reported missing from any zoos or circuses for five hundred miles in any direction.”
“Maybe it’s somebody’s pet.”
“Pet?”
“Yeah. You know. Some dumb ass rap star or other dumb shit.”
“Or maybe it’s just a goddam bobcat,” said the Sheriff firmly. “I know you people like to indulge your wildest fantasies, but I prefer to live in the real world.”
The back door opened and everyone’s eyes went wide as a reporter bustled in, with a cameraman on her heels. And right behind them was Marcella Evans the welfare queen, smiling meekly.
Whispers and murmuring spread through the room as the townies that watched cable news quickly recognized the new arrival. “That’s Katie Mulligan,” one of them whispered. “She’s on TV.”
“Sheriff, good evening,” Katie ignored their gaping stares and got right down to business. She didn’t want to spend any more time in this dull little town than was necessary. “Katie Mulligan, National Cable News. Is it true that a wild African leopard has been terrorizing your community?”
The Sheriff looked like a deer in the headlights as he eyeballed the cameraman targeting him with his shoulder-mounted camera. He turned to Mandee Madisson for a clue. But she was red-faced and remained stone silent.
Owen turned back to the camera and affected a patronizing grin. “Are you kidding me? Did you actually come all the way down here from wherever it is you came from just to report on a small town boy who got mauled by a rabid bobcat? Is that what makes national news these days? Wouldn’t you be better off chasing Lindsey Lohan?”
“I already checked with your local hospital, Sheriff,” Katie replied, “And they said there’s no sign of rabies in the victim.”
“Oh, excuse me. I guess I meant to say ‘attacked by a non-rabid bobcat.’ How did you even find out about this anyway?”
“We got an email on our tip-line. Apparently one of your local citizens was concerned enough to think the story warrants our attention. And if it’s true, well, you don’t get a leopard attack every day in America now, do you?”
“And of course this… local citizen…” he shot a killer look at Marcella, who swallowed her guilty smile. “Collected a cash reward for their contribution?”
“That’s totally irrelevant, Sheriff.” Katie knew enough to ignore any questions and stay on target. “Is it true there’s a wild animal stalking your town? And if there is, what steps are you taking to protect your fellow citizens?”
“We’re doing everything we can, lady. And for your information it was my own son who was attacked by this critter and his best friend who had half his face ripped off.”
He scanned the faces of the townies in the room and was struck by the fact that most of them looked secretly happy. It finally hit him how much they hated his son. And it hit him hard.
“I feel sorry for both of the victims, Sheriff,” the reporter said, “But that doesn’t answer my question.”
“We’ve already called in an expert,” Mandee interjected, stepping up beside the shell-shocked Sheriff. “After consulting with wildlife authorities we’ve engaged the services of a professional hunter based on their recommendations.”
“And you are…?” the reporter asked.
“A concerned citizen. Just like your anonymous caller.” She shot a deadly look at Marcella, who swallowed hard again, wondered how much retribution she’d be facing.
“Well maybe you can tell us more about the situation. Like who it is you’re bringing in to hunt this mysterious creature.”
“I’m not at liberty to comment until we’ve concluded negotiations. Some experts are sensitive about publicity and I wouldn’t want to jeopardize our position or do anything that might inadvertently delay the resolution of this problem. We appreciate your interest in our town, however, and thank you for your concern.” Mandee flashed the most insincere smile she could muster. Now get the fuck back to whatever rock you crawled out from, you stuck-up media cunt.
“I believe that concludes our business here,” said the Sheriff, following Mandee’s cue, with noticeably less wind in his sails than he had at the start of the meeting. “I suggest you all go home now and stay clear of the woods until our expert resolves the situation.”
“Sheriff…” Katie tried to squeeze in one more question but Mandee was already dragging him out the back door. In frustration she turned to her cameraman, “Let’s grab some local color and get out of here.”
She turned to find a pie-eyed woman grinning at her.
“She’ll do,” Katie said, with little enthusiasm. “Good evening, ma’am. Would you like to give us your opinion on what’s been happening in your town?
“Sure,” the woman lit up with delight as the cameraman moved closer and Katie held the microphone to her face.
“Just tell us what’s been going on around here. In your own words.”
“Well,” the woman licked her lips, revealing that half her teeth were missing, “Something’s been prowlin’ around our woods, y’see. Attacked a few of our boys. Chewed the face off o’ the one and clawed the eyes out t’other. They say it’s some kind o’ big cat but everyone ‘round here knows better. It’s the witch.”
“Witch? Did you say witch?”
The woman grinned and nodded. “Old Granny Dola, that’s her name. She lives out there in those woods. And this ain’t the first time she tore somebody up. Strange things been goin’ on around here for years. Ever since she moved in.”
“You’re saying a witch did this? An old witch woman who lives in the woods.”
The woman nodded emphatically. “And if I was you I’d be extra careful on my way out of town. That witch don’t take kindly to no strangers poking around in her business. No ma’am.”
Katie turned to her cameraman in defeat.
“Let’s get out of here. Before we end our careers on public access.”
359
The Nine Lives of Felicia Miller
51
Mandee lay in bed, nursing a Marlboro lite.
The Mayor returned from the bathroom and flopped beside her. He gazed at her plump breasts, admiring the full hard nipples peeking through her black lace bra. “Mmm. I could eat you right up.” He tugged the cup of her bra down and leaned in to suckle.
Mandee pushed his head away. “Dammit, Sandy. What are you going to do about that fucking animal? Half our investors have already pulled out. They’re afraid to set foot in the county. And the rest have put us on hold.”
“Over one stupid little bobcat? What kind of flakes have you been doing business with?”
“The kind that are terrified of liability issues and cost overruns. And all those letters in the local news rag ranting about our witch problem haven’t helped.”
“Nobody believes that nonsense.”
“Nobody except half the fucking morons in this town.”
“No need to get all hot and use profanity. I’m on your side, remember?”
“Really? Well then prove it. Get somebody in here who can track that cat and kill it. There have to be hunters and trappers who can handle the job.”
“We already pay the Sheriff to maintain safety in this town. Now you want us to pay an outsider too? I thought you were a fiscal conservative?”
“And I thought you were smart enough to want the added revenues our new development will bring to this horseshit commun
ity. But maybe I’ve been wrong about you. Maybe I should talk to my board about moving our operations to a more business friendly environment.”
“Okay, okay. Maybe you’re right. Bring in whoever you think will get the job done. Just make it clear they don’t collect more than gas money if they don’t deliver a carcass.”
359
The Nine Lives of Felicia Miller
52
Felicia heard dogs barking and stole a cautious peek around the tree. Her tail twitched in alarm as she spotted three large hunting dogs poking their noses at the ground and wagging their tails excitedly. What the hell are they doing out here at this time of night?
“They’ve spotted something.” A raspy voice shouted.
Felicia peeked again and saw several hunters gathering near the dogs. Just yards from where she was hiding. One man stood out among the rest. He wore a hat made from the head and skin of a badger. His eyes were cold and mean, and he wielded a wicked-looking trident with stainless steel barbs.
Jesus. Felicia turned to flee—but saw more hunters, fanned out around her. Dozens of flashlights swept the darkness. Red plaid jackets flickered like flames in the night. She was completely surrounded. And they were closing in on all sides.
Shit.
The barking grew louder and more excited.
“Over there! Behind the tree!”
A flashlight blinded her. Just as it had happened onstage when she was singing, she was suddenly dazzled and confused. Her mind a helpless blank.
She stood paralyzed with fear. The dogs lurched around the tree and stood facing her. Barking loudly and frantically. Growling through bared teeth. Even at three to one she could give them a good fight, but that fight would certainly end in a hail of hot lead.
Felicia heard the bolts of a dozen guns being cocked. Looked up at their barrels aimed at her.
A deafening volley of smoke and fire exploded.
And she woke.
Her heart was racing. A dark feeling lingered over her, like a storm cloud caught in a high pressure system. She was aware that she’d just been having a very bad dream, but couldn’t shake the gnawing fear it had evoked.
She heard dogs barking again. It sounded exactly like the barking in her dreams, but was coming from outside the house. And this time it was real.
With a mixture of trepidation and curiosity she rolled out of bed and ran to the window to investigate. Daylight was just breaking, gray and bleak. Her view was obscured by the big tree and shrubs in the yard, but she could make out a group of people moving slowly down the street.
What the hell? She glanced at her alarm clock. It wasn’t quite seven in the morning.
Pulling on her robe she ran downstairs to the kitchen. Her mother was there, rinsing her breakfast plate. “Well, Sleeping Beauty. You’re up early this morning.”
“What’s going on outside?”
“Are you feeling alright?”
“Yes,” said Felicia testily. “What’s going on out there?”
“Are you sure you haven’t come down with something? You never get up this early anymore.”
Felicia ignored the question. If her mother only knew. She was becoming more of a nocturnal creature than anyone suspected. She had to start each day with a bottle of energy drink just to get through her morning classes without dozing off. Without taking a catnap.
She went to the window and pressed her face to the glass. She could see the Sheriff walking with a small posse of men, all armed with scoped hunting rifles. They were walking in a broad line, following a dog handler and his eager barking hounds.
“The great white hunter has arrived,” her mother finally said. Shutting off the water at the taps, she wiped her hands on a towel. “They hired some big expert to come in and get that wild cat.”
“I know. But what’s he doing on our street? Shouldn’t they be out in the woods or something?” She could feel her pulse racing. Her fear wasn’t rational. As long as she remained in human form, the hunters couldn’t hurt her. And the dogs couldn’t target her.
Or could they?
“Well that would seem to make sense. But they are men after all. Men with big guns. So we can only hope they have some modicum of common sense.”
359
The Nine Lives of Felicia Miller
53
“They definitely picked up on something, Sheriff.”
“You sure these mutts know what they’re doing?” Owen asked, skeptical that a big cat could have entered the suburban neighborhood without being spotted by someone.
“These are well broke cold nose trackers, Sheriff,” snapped the handler. “They don’t chase trash. If they say something was here, something came this way.”
The dogs started barking at a spot on the ground.
“There you go. Lookee there,” the handler shouted proudly.
“That’s a cat track alright. Big one too,” said Wiley Bohannon, kneeling to get a closer look at the paw print as the handler pulled his canines back to let him in.
“I’ll be damned,” said the Sheriff, with a new found respect for the hounds. “Is it a bobcat?”
“No way a bobcat made those. They’re way too big. From the size of them, a cougar’d be my guess.” He scratched his head. “The rear pad’s kinda big though. But nothing else makes sense. Unless you have some kind of big circus cat running loose.”
“We checked all the zoos and circuses for hundreds of miles. Unless someone’s lying, that’s not the case. You sure it’s not a dog print? Or maybe a lynx?”
“Dog leaves claw marks. Lynx is a very slight possibility. But it’d be way out of its natural range so I highly doubt it. Cougar’s the only cat close to these parts that’s big enough to make these prints. But it might be an old bobcat track that got worn down by the weather.”
Pushing back his Aussie outback hat Bohannon leaned closer and placed his hand alongside the print. “Looks like a young female,” he added. “Probably late adolescent.”
“You can tell all that from one little track?”
“Tell the sex from the shape of the pads. And the age from the size of the print. But of course it’s just an educated guess. Depends how old the tracks are. And what exactly it is.”
The dogs started barking and pulling at their leashes.
“Okay, calm down,” said the handler as he followed the dogs toward Felicia’s house.
The rest of the posse followed, and soon they were gathered in the Miller’s side yard, watching the dogs who were leaping and barking at the tree.
Felicia’s parents came out the back door to investigate. Felicia lingered behind in the open doorway, trying to eavesdrop while keeping a safe distance, for fear of being marked by the dogs.
“Morning, Sheriff,” said Laurie. “Can you tell us what the heck is going on out here? Not that you aren’t welcome, of course.”
“Seems you had a visitor on your property, ma’am,” said Bohannon the hunter. “And not one you’d be inclined to welcome, I’d surmise.”
“These men are professional hunters, Laurie,” said the Sheriff. “They’ve been hired to help track the big cat that’s attacked our boys.”
“We gathered that much, Sheriff,” said Felicia’s father, “But wouldn’t it make more sense to do your hunting in the woods where those boys were actually attacked?”
“That’s where we started, mister,” said the handler. “And this is where the trail led us.”
“What?!” Bill Miller’s voice cracked as he spoke. “Are you trying to tell us that whatever animal attacked.those boys was here? In our yard?”
“We’re not trying to tell you, mister,” said the hunter. “We are telling you.”
“You’re kidding,” said Laurie. “This has to be a joke.”
“Fraid not,” said the Sheriff. “We found a track on your lawn.”
“What kind of track?” Laurie asked nervously.
“Was it a bobcat?” asked Bill.
“If it’s a bobcat track, mist
er, it’s the biggest dang bobcat track I’ve ever seen,” said the dog handler.
Suddenly the dogs stopped jumping at the tree and turned toward Felicia in the doorway. Yammering excitedly they bolted toward her. Straining to break their leads.
“Whoa!” shouted the handler and he yanked sharply on their leashes. “Hold, Captain! Hold, Tessie!”
The dogs stopped advancing, but kept crying and fidgeting, eager to finish the pursuit.
Felicia slipped inside and closed the door. This was one spotlight she didn’t care for.
“Sorry, Ma’am,” said the handler. “Didn’t mean to scare your little girl like that. It ain’t like these dogs to break trail and go off like that. They’re purple ribbon trackers.”
“I’m sure she’s okay. Felicia loves animals. She just hasn’t been feeling well lately.”
“I’m sorry to hear that, ma’am,” the Sheriff said. “She’s a good girl. Got lots of talent too.”
“Alright, fellows,” the hunter said. “If this is the end of the trail we might as well break and grab some chow. We’ll get that critter, now that we know it’s around here.”
“Sorry to disturb you folks,” said the Sheriff. “You’d probably be wise to stay inside until we bag this thing.”
“I think that’s advice we can happily follow, Sheriff,” said Bill, hugging Laurie protectively.
“And keep Felicia inside as well. We wouldn’t want to lose our town’s star attraction. Tell her I hope she feels better.”
“That’s very sweet of you to say so, Sheriff,” said Laurie, a little surprised that the Sheriff knew Felicia by name, “I’ll tell her you said that. I’m sure she’ll be very pleased.”
As they entered the kitchen, Laurie locked and bolted the kitchen door.
“Don’t you think it’s weird that there was a big cat out there in our yard right under our very noses and we never even suspected it?” said Bill.
“I’m glad you think it’s exciting,” Laurie shivered, “I think it’s horrifying. I love animals as much as the next person but after what it did to those boys I just wish they’d kill it and be done with it.”