by Mary Walker
Katherine took a deep breath and slid out the passenger door, zipping the heavy jacket and slipping the car keys under the floor mat.
Vic slung his pack over one shoulder and climbed onto the hood of the car, and from there to the roof. He picked up the rope and stood on top of the car so his eyes were level with the barbed wire at the top of the fence. When he reached his arms overhead, he was able to grab the branch with both hands. He tested it by gradually putting his weight on it. Then he stretched one leg over to the fence, finding a toehold for his tennis shoe, and hoisted himself up, putting the other foot into the mesh and walking up the fence as he hauled with his arms. When he was high enough, he pulled himself onto the branch and threw a leg over it, careful to avoid the barbed wire.
Katherine, standing now on the car roof, looked up into the darkness. The figure in the tree, dressed all in black, dark skin and hair disappearing in the night, showed suddenly a flash of white teeth. Like the Cheshire cat, she thought.
He wrapped one end of the rope around the branch, tied a loop in the other end, and dropped it to her. “Around your waist,” he whispered. “Then do what I did. I’ll help.”
She slipped the loop around her waist and grabbed on to the branch, which she could just reach. She stuck a toe into the fence and began to climb. Vic tightened the rope and supported part of her weight as she walked up the fence and pulled herself up on the branch. As she did it, she thought that her three weeks in the snake pit had yielded some benefits; the heavy lifting had definitely improved her upper body strength.
Getting down the tree was much easier because there were several low branches on that side of the fence. Once on the ground, inside the ranch property, Katherine’s legs shook violently. Exertion. Fear. Anticipation. She wasn’t sure which.
Vic left the rope hanging from the tree branch and led off in the direction of the front gate. The sliver of moon gave just enough light for them to see major obstacles in front of them—mesquite clumps, trees, and an occasional prickly pear. When they had walked in silence for about ten minutes, Vic stopped and took hold of her arm. The lights of a building complex appeared through the trunks of a peach orchard. He knelt down and Katherine hunkered close to him. A big two-story house showed several lights inside. A huge flood illuminated the area in front. Behind it loomed a garage and some other small outbuildings. About a quarter of a mile back from those was a horseshoe-shaped complex of what looked like motel cabins.
He leaned over to her and whispered, his lips grazing her ear, “If I’m remembering right, most of the livestock’s in corrals and a barn back of the cabins. Let’s look.”
He rose and led the way, skirting the lighted area and heading toward the back of the complex.
In the dark they could just make out a long low building with a fenced-in area at one end. Katherine smelled the horses before she saw them standing in the corral. There was a lot of snorting and stomping of hooves as the horses caught their scent. Vic gave them a wide berth. “I think there’s a barn back here,” he whispered. After a few minutes of walking along an unpaved track, a huge barn loomed against the dark sky. “In here,” he said.
They approached silently. The big double doors were latched but not locked. Vic lifted the latch and dragged the door open a crack so they could squeeze through. Inside was total darkness. The warm rich smell of manure engulfed them. Vic switched on his flashlight and shone the beam around. Stalls around the sides contained cows and a few horses. In one large stall, a flock of sheep looked back at them with sleepy eyes. Not an exotic animal in the place.
“Strike one,” Vic whispered in her ear.
They closed the door behind them and headed back toward the stable they had already bypassed. “I don’t like this,” Vic whispered. “The horses are jumpy and it’s close to the house. But these stalls are a possibility.”
They walked along the row of stalls built of rough, weathered boards. Dutch doors opened at the tops. They glanced in each door. Most contained a single horse. One held a goat which let out a loud maaa as they passed. When they got to the end, they circled the corral. A few of the outdoor horses jumped and whinnied as they passed.
They stopped to listen. Nothing.
They walked down the other side of the long stable, looking in each stall. As they approached the last stall, a distant barking started from the direction of the house.
“Oh, shit,” Vic said. He grabbed Katherine’s arm and headed back toward the barn at a fast walk.
The barking intensified. It was coming toward them.
Katherine couldn’t see them in the darkness, but she could hear. Thudding paws. Panting. Baying. “There are two of them,” Katherine whispered, “and they’re big—Dobermans, I think.”
She looked around for a tree. Anything they could climb. But the landscape was bare. And the barn was too far.
Vic broke into a run. Katherine reached out for his arm. “Don’t run, Vic. Makes it worse.”
The barking was just yards away now.
They turned and saw the two dark shapes hurtling toward them, baying and slavering. Vic pulled the dart gun from his pocket. “I can only get one; takes several minutes to reload.”
Katherine unzipped the jacket, ripped it off, and wrapped it around her left arm as she turned to face the two dogs bearing down on them.
Vic moved forward a step. As the first dog lunged at him, he stepped to the side and fired. The dart hit flesh with a soft, pfut. The dog yipped and swerved. As it turned to attack again, it staggered and collapsed to the ground. A large rottweiler with a thick studded collar.
The second dog flew at Katherine. She extended her wrapped arm in front of her body and said in her trainer’s voice, “Release, sir.” It didn’t work. With a growl, the dog grabbed the padded arm in his teeth and clamped down. Then he shook his head from side to side, snarling with fury, as if he were trying to rip her arm from its socket. Katherine needed all her strength to keep holding the arm in front of her. She’d been attacked by dogs before and had the scars to prove it, but never like this, in the dark. She knew the teeth would soon penetrate the thick leather and pierce the flesh of her arm. She glanced desperately to Vic. He was digging in his back pack, scrambling to reload the dart gun.
A door slammed in the distance. A man’s voice called, “Diablo! Jeff! Come here, you clowns.”
The dog dragged down on Katherine’s arm with all his weight, snarling and whimpering with the effort. Just as she felt the prick of a fang through the fabric, she was pulled to her knees by the dog’s weight.
The man’s voice called out again, “Who’s there?” Another door slammed. Two more voices spoke.
Then she heard the pfut of the dart pistol. The dog released its grip on her arm. A blessed reprieve. She felt she could float off the ground now, run forever without that weight dragging her down.
Vic grabbed his pack and they sprinted away from the approaching voices. They streaked past the barn and turned into the woods. Toward the car. Vic ran at full speed. His knapsack bounced on his back. The dart gun was still in his hand.
Katherine kept up, but barely. Her lungs burned with the effort. Her eyes stayed glued to the ground.
She heard the cry of surprise when the men found the sleeping dogs. Then she heard nothing but Vic’s labored breathing ahead and her own gasps. After a few minutes, she fell behind. Vic glanced back and slowed down to a trot, waiting for her to catch up. After another minute they slowed to a walk and listened for the sounds of pursuit.
Nothing. No voices behind them. No barking. They’d gotten away.
Now all they had to do was get back over the fence.
But they’d failed. She should have known it was impossible. They were just lucky to get away unhurt.
“Katherine,” Vic whispered, through his gasps for breath, “let’s get out while we can.”
She nodded her agreement, too short of breath to speak.
They picked up their pace, heading back to the fence.
A minu
te later, Katherine glimpsed a dark shape off to the left.
She pointed. “Look.”
It was a small structure standing by itself.
Vic put his sweaty cheek down close to hers. “Want to check it out? It’s taking a chance. They’ll try to find us.”
“Let’s just look,” Katherine rasped.
He turned to glance behind. “Okay. A quick one.”
As they approached, the structure took the shape of a small aluminum siding barn with a corral at the back.
They tried the door, but it was locked tight with a huge padlock. “Let’s go,” Vic said, pulling her back the way they had come.
“Wait.” She ran around to the side. The only break in the aluminum wall was one small window, five feet off the ground.
Katherine put her head close to look at it. It was open a crack. She stuck her fingers in and lifted. It opened smoothly.
Vic handed her his pack. “Pass this through when I get in.” He hoisted himself up to the window and squeezed through. As he dropped inside, he let out a gasp of alarm or surprise. Katherine held the backpack up to the window. Vic pulled it through.
Katherine hoisted herself up into the window frame. It was so dark inside she could see nothing. She hesitated.
Vic switched on his flashlight. The beam illuminated one large amber eye, which repelled the light, casting it back off an opaque, reflective disk that glowed chartreuse behind the amber lens. The face around the eye was scarred and mangled. On the broad, flat nose and under the closed eye, dozens of black scars striped the tawny fur. Half of one ear was ripped away. The black mane was patchy and littered with wood shavings. The old lion looked placidly at Vic and tried to stand up, but the cage was so small, he had to crouch. He rubbed his side along the wire and purred as Vic pressed his hand against the wire mesh.
Vic spat out one word: “Bastards.”
Then he stood and played his light slowly around the enclosure. Sacks of feed and wood chips were stacked against the far wall; a wheelbarrow, an empty cage, and several crates took up the middle. In the corner near the door was a large metal stall. Inside it, watching them with gentle dark eyes, stood a quivering mahogany-colored antelope. Twelve white stripes ran down its side.
“Eureka!” Vic whispered. “Let’s do this fast.”
In a rage of excitement Katherine wriggled through the window and dropped into the barn.
Pfut! The sound of the dart pistol broke the stillness. The bongo fell to its knees. It lay with its head drooping for a few seconds and then fell over heavily on its side.
“That stuff really works,” Katherine said, rushing to help.
“Help me roll him over,” Vic said. He propped the flashlight against his pack and they both shoved until they had positioned the bongo on its back with its legs sticking up in the air. Vic took his camera from his bag and straddled the animal. Katherine held it in place by the rear legs.
There in the groin where the rear leg met the belly, on that hairless blue skin, was the black tattoo—its ISIS number—11-3881. Katherine knew it by heart. It was one of the bongos Max Friedlander had shipped.
The flash was an explosion that blinded her in the darkness. Vic took five more pictures from different angles. Then he pulled a hypodermic from his bag and injected it into the bongo’s haunch. By the time they were out of the stall, the animal was already struggling to its feet.
Vic stopped at the window. He aimed the camera at the old lion and took five more snaps.
As Katherine was struggling through the window, she heard him whisper, “I’m sorry, boy, so sorry.” She stopped and looked back, not sure she’d heard him right. Vic gave her a shove through and tossed his pack to her.
“Vic, you know that lion,” she said.
He dropped to the ground next to her. “Damn right. Let’s go.”
Katherine leading, they ran toward the car.
They’d done it. Home free. She saw the fence in the distance.
Then she heard the voices off to the side. And behind them. Lights flickered through the trees.
“Goddammit,” Vic whispered. “They’re right here.”
They sprinted now, crashing through bushes. Only fifty yards to the fence.
A voice behind them shouted. “Halt! I’ll shoot.”
They ran faster than Katherine knew she could.
When she heard the first shot, she accelerated. Her lungs burned with the effort.
As they neared the fence, she cried out in disappointment. No tree. No car. Just a long expanse of sturdy chain link. Fourteen feet straight up.
They’d misjudged the car’s location.
A spray from a shotgun pattered into some mesquite trees just behind them.
Vic grabbed her hand. “Come on. It’s this way.” He made a sharp right turn. They ran along the fence for what seemed like an eternity.
Another shot hit the ground between them.
They ran bent over. Katherine’s lungs felt wrung out.
She looked up. Thank God. The tree. Its branches seemed to reach toward them.
Vic grabbed the trunk and stood aside. He pushed her up into the lower branches and followed close behind. She climbed as if there were a fire licking at her feet.
Two shots thudded into the tree trunk. The rough bark scraped her hands and arms. She reached the top branch as the men broke through the bushes into the clearing. She dropped down onto the roof of the car.
She slid down the side of the Jeep to the ground and crouched behind the car. Vic dropped down next to her, panting and dripping sweat onto her as shots pinged into the other side of the Jeep.
Two men were climbing the tree. Two more approached the fence.
Katherine opened the door and grabbed the keys from under the mat. Vic was right behind her. She scrambled into the driver’s seat and hunched over the wheel. She fumbled with the keys, trying to find the right one.
The car rocked as a man dropped on top of it.
She found the key. It took three tries to get it in the ignition.
Vic was struggling now to close the door. An arm from above held it open.
Katherine started the engine and revved it. Another heavy thump on the car. Two up there!
“Go! Go!” Vic yelled.
She stepped on the accelerator, jerking the car forward. Then she hit the brake abruptly, throwing a body off the side. The other rolled onto the hood, blocking her vision. Vic slammed his door. “Again!” he shouted.
She stepped on the accelerator again and spurted forward. Again, she slammed on the brake. The man on the hood flew off and hit the ground in front of the Jeep. She swerved to avoid him.
“Fast,” Vic shouted.
She drove as fast as the terrain permitted, punishing the car by bouncing over ditches, low bushes, and cacti. When they got to the road she increased her speed to ninety and maintained it all the way to the highway.
The only sound in the car was their labored breathing as they tried to suck in enough air.
Then Vic began making a low rumbling noise which turned into laughter as they raced along the highway. He tried to speak, but couldn’t get the words out. Finally he slid closer to her and conquered his laughter enough to say, “That was incredible. We actually did it. At the end there, I didn’t think we would.” He put his arm around her shoulders. “Are you okay?”
“I think so. My adrenaline is pumping so hard, I’m not sure. How do you feel?”
He took her right hand off the wheel and pressed it between his legs. “Carnal in the extreme.”
She felt the hardness stir under her touch.
“Mmmm,” he said. “How fast can you drive this car?”
19
KATHERINE took a long time washing the dust and sweat out of her hair. Then she let the hot jets sting her skin alert. It was 2:30 A.M., but she had never been more awake.
It wasn’t just the delicious buzz of excitement and relief that had charged the air in the car all the way back from Kerrville. It
wasn’t even the tingling anticipation of knowing Vic must be waiting for her now in his bedroom. It was the sense she had of being on a quest.
It reminded her of fairy tales where the youngest child was given a task to perform, a difficult task that only she could accomplish. Her father had given her this mission and she was close to the end; she could feel it. She had followed the clues he left for her, discovered what he had intended she should. What remained was for her to make the correct use of the discoveries. Today she would do that; she would finally meet her grandmother, confront her with what she had discovered, show her the proof. Surely this must be what her father had wanted her to do.
She stepped out dripping onto the bathroom floor. As she toweled her hair, she remembered she had nothing clean to put on except her zoo uniform. She wrapped the towel around her waist and looked into the bedroom, half expecting Vic to be waiting there. The room was empty, so she threw off the towel and walked to the closet naked. Inside hung a few old shirts and jackets. One was a long white T-shirt. She pulled it on over her head and inspected herself in the mirror on the door. The shirt hung to the top of her knees and clung to every curve of her still-damp body. Perfect. She smiled at herself, tucked her wet hair behind her ears, and let a tiny shiver ripple down her body.
She stepped into the hall to listen for sounds of life. A refrigerator door closing at the other end of the house brought her stomach to life; she followed the sound, trying to remember the last meal she’d had. It was probably the rubbery turkey sandwich on the flight from La Guardia yesterday.
The kitchen was dim, only the small light over the sink turned on. Vic stood at the counter spreading peanut butter on a piece of toast. Ra sat at attention at his feet, gazing up hopefully.
“Beggar,” she said.
They both turned her way. Vic wore a short blue terry-cloth robe and his hair was dripping wet. He studied Katherine for a moment in silence, his face in shadow. Then he held the piece of toast out to her. The aroma of hot toast and melting peanut butter filled her mouth with liquid and made her stomach contract. She took a few steps forward, but just as she reached out to take it, Vic put it behind his back. She smiled, really wanting it, and reached around him with one hand. Looking down at her, he brought his left arm around behind her back and slowly drew her in close until her breasts just touched the rough terry cloth covering his chest. Now the clean fragrance emanating from his skin and hair merged with the rich peanut butter to create a scent that instantly filled every cavity of her body with wet desires. She looked up at him and said, “Peanut-butter toast must be the human pheromone.”