A male voice mumbles something. The footfall is louder.
I swing my mind back to Vadik. There is more motion, clothing, a backpack; two backpacks with hats. Can’t be Matt. He’d come alone. I head for Vadik. My sense is that they are in attack mode. Roma is setting himself up to be spotted, to grab the people’s attention. Vadik is setting up to attack from the rear, quiet, unnoticed. This is dangerous for man and beast. If these men are armed, they’ll shoot Roma as soon as they see him. I don’t think it is Lester and Sarge. First they weren’t wearing hats. Second, these guys are coming from the wrong direction. I didn’t get the impression that Lester and Sarge had partners, so if these two are armed, they’re not going to be shooting with sleep pellets.
Suddenly Vadik turns his attention away from the people and I am looking at myself through his eyes, approaching through the trees from his right. He sees me before I see him. Talk about freaky. I’m not a threat. He returns to his prey. A few seconds later I see him. I still don’t see the two men.
Damn! I move as fast as I can toward him. If I knew for sure these were innocent hikers, I’d yell out a warning. I shift to Roma. He is not within their sight yet. There is still time for me to gather more information.
I reach Vadik and place my hand on his shoulder. With my own eyes I see the men. There are definitely two of them. They are hikers. There are no guns, at least none visible. There could be a pistol in a holster I cannot see. One carries a walking stick. The other has something in his hand but it appears no more threatening than a two-way radio. I move ahead of Vadik, staying silent, cat-like. Twenty yards. Fifteen yards.
At ten yards from their backs, they stop. I freeze. I don’t know why they stopped; I can’t see what is in front of them. I shift my mind to Roma. My mouth drops open. The hikers and Roma are eye to eye, and the look on one face is pure terror. It is the other face, the one showing a respectable level of fear, which I know. And then I realize that I know them both.
“It’s okay,” I say, trying not to startle them beyond the fear they’re already feeling. “He won’t hurt you.”
Chapter 22
I hug them both even though I’m sure Matt’s mother hates me. She hugs me back even stronger, probably a knee-jerk reaction following visions of being eaten by a prehistoric animal. I am shocked that she came, but I don’t ask why. I am so relieved and happy to see a friendly face I can hardly stand it.
“I didn’t think you got my message,” I say to Matt. “I’m glad you came.”
“Yeah, well . . .” Matt’s mother says. She looks back and forth between Roma and Vadik. “I’m thinking we shouldn’t have.”
“It’s okay, Mom. Reba has some kind of power over them.” He looks at me for assurance, both for himself and his mother.
“That’s right, Mrs. Shwartzberg.” I motion to Roma to come. He sits instead. I’ve only ever given mental commands. Fine then. I pass the mental picture of him coming and standing next to us, and that these two people are friends. He gets up and wanders over. Mrs. Shwartzberg takes a step back, and around behind me.
“You’re a large animal vet,” I say to her. “This is a large animal. He knows you are not a threat. You don’t have to fear him. Respect him, yes. Fear, no.” I place my hand on Roma’s shoulder. “You can touch him. He doesn’t mind.”
Tentatively, she reaches and touches with just her fingers, then strokes with her hand. Roma remains a gentleman. I send him warm thoughts. Vadik comes up and the three of us do the same with him. “At this point these are the only two you can touch, other than Edik, the reason I’ve asked you to come. He has been shot, and the wound is infected.”
“Take us there,” Matt says.
We walk along, seemingly alone—no felines. Both of the cats are to the north of us, out of sight. I’m leading the human group. Chasing after Roma and Vadik sent me helter-skelter through the forest. I shouldn’t have a clue how to get back, but I do. I know exactly where I’m going . . . an animal sense. It feels weird.
“You said one of the cats had been shot; how long ago?”
“About a week ago, I think, Mrs. Shwartzberg.”
“It’s Sharon, please.”
“Sharon. I just got here myself. I had some antibacterial ointment. That’s all I’ve done so far.”
We give up the trees for the small meadow. I stop them outside the cave. “We’re here.”
“Where?” Sharon says.
“I remember this,” Matt says. “It’s right through these trees. The cave, the opening to the tunnel where we found the lantern.”
Matt seems much stronger than he did a year ago. At that time, when we found this entrance, he was still reeling from the shock of watching his dad get murdered, and then having to immediately turn and run from the men who did it. He was battling intense childhood fears of dark places, often retreating into himself. The battle was not helped by the fact that it was inside this cave, as he tried to run from its deep darkness, that he came face to face with a sabre-toothed cat. Yes, Matt is a lot stronger. How will he handle it when I tell him that Black Beard has returned?
“We’re going to enter the cave where Edik is. In here, also, is Nadia and her two kittens. She is not as friendly as Roma and Vadik. Do not go near her or the kittens. She is fiercely protective. I doubt I could control her if she thinks her kittens are being threatened.”
“Not to worry,” Sharon says. “I deal with that type of thing every day.”
“With domesticated animals, I’m sure you do. Do you deal with large cats?”
“I’ve dealt with tigers. Not quite this big, but close. Bengal tigers.” She tilts her head at me. Her eyes turn to slits. “You said you just got here. You called my son yesterday. How did you know this cat was shot?”
I smile at her. “You wouldn’t believe me if I told you.” I turn away and head for the break between the trees and the wall of the mountain. “Follow me.”
I stop at my pack, pull out my flashlight and show them the layout of the cave, pointing out the Nadia family. The kittens are backed into a corner and Nadia is out front voicing her displeasure at more human presence. Matt and Sharon ease around me and move away from her and toward Edik. I stand my ground with Nadia, pointing at her and sending commands to back off and relax. “Friends.” I send pictures. She hisses at me. Roma comes in and growls. She growls back, the final word, and goes to her kittens.
I turn to Matt and Sharon. Sharon is looking at me, her mouth hanging open. “Can you help him?” I ask.
She closes her mouth and gives me an evil eye.
“We need to sedate him,” Matt says. “Then we’re going to have to remove that bullet and clean the wound.” He pulls out a hypodermic needle, a big one. “Mom!”
Sharon takes her attention from me.
“Wait!” I kneel next to Edik and gently touch him. He opens his eyes and turns his head to me. “It’s okay,” I say to him. I reach into his mind. “Good people. Nice people.” I run my hand across his massive forehead. “They’re going to help you.” He lies his head back down. His side rises and falls with a deep breath. “He’s okay with you now. Give him the shot.”
“You think this is enough?” Matt asks his mother.
Sharon looks at the syringe with her flashlight, thinks for a moment and says, “Yes.”
He pushes the needle into the cat’s hip. They sit back to wait for the sedation to take effect. “Where’s your friend?” Matt asks.
“Friend?”
“Someone named Mandi left a message on my phone. Where is she?”
“Oh!” I sit on the ground and put my head in my hands. “Oh, God!”
Chapter 23
By the time Edik is fully asleep, I have told my story to Matt and Sharon, at least the part about discovering a couple of guys camping near the falls, and then getting caught by them. I tell Matt who Lester is, and that he and Sarge are now holding my best friend in hopes of trading her for a couple of sabre-toothed cats. Neither of them says a word, though
there is a firm set to Sharon’s face. My sixth sense picks up on a growing anger, and my guess is that a percentage of it is directed at me.
Sharon stands and turns to the cat, maybe purposefully putting her back to me. “Give me your penlight,” she says to Matt. He hands it to her. She picks up and analyzes his paws and then moves around to his head, pulls open an eyelid, and exams the eye with the penlight. “He’s out. Let’s get to work.” Her voice is firm and businesslike with a mix if ire.
Ire! Mandi would be proud that I thought of that word.
With a small needle Matt administers more pain killer around the wound. “Insurance,” he says. They put on rubber gloves.
“Just like real surgeons,” I comment.
Sharon glares at me. After handing the penlight back to Matt, she pulls out a much larger light and shoves it at me. “While we’re pretending to be surgeons, you will hold the light. You keep it on what we’re doing. Don’t for one second move away. If you have to vomit, tough shit.”
I stand there like an idiot with the light in my hand. “Sure.”
“On second thought, if you have to get sick you give us at least five seconds notice. We’ll then wait for you to go do your thing. You come right back and we go back to work. Is that understood?”
“Yes. I won’t get sick.” How bad can it be?
Her glare turns into an evil grin. She hopes I get sick. I’m psychic. I know.
I’m sick. The contents of my stomach are heaving this way and that, trying to find an escape. I’m determined not to give in, but I need to look away. I can’t. She is cutting or scraping or something, and fresh blood is mixing with the vomit yellow pus. Sweat drips from the lashes over my right eye. My head is about to explode. I struggle to remain focused on holding the light steady. I’m okay.
I’m okay.
I close my eyes. There is a fuzzy illumination in the darkness behind my eyelids and I feel like I’m on a Texas State Fair spin-till-you-vomit ride.
“Light!” Sharon’s voice explodes from out of the fuzzy, spinning darkness.
I snap my eyes open, catch my balance and bring the light back onto the bloody gore. “Sor . . .” My stomach jumps into my throat. “I . . . sick.”
“Shit! Go!”
I run as far away as I can get before the explosion happens. My disgusting wrenching is even more embarrassing. I lean heavily against the cave wall with one hand and shine the light on my creation with the other. I turn it away before I start up again.
“I could use that light back here, now!”
Bitch! “Sorry.” I return, feeling much better.
“I’m okay, here,” Sharon says. “Can you handle the light, Matt?”
“Sure.”
“I’m fine now,” I say. He moves in my direction, his hand reaching. I snap away like a little kid. “I’ve got it!”
“Rebecca!”
Rebecca! She has no right to call me Rebecca. I open my mouth, but shut it when I end up in a tug-a-war with Matt.
“Stop it!”
I let loose. They both turn away as if I don’t exist, as if what they’re doing is more important than my feelings. I stomp away in search of fresh air.
It’s twenty minutes before they come out. Twenty minutes is plenty of time to analyze my actions, my attitude. I feel like an immature jerk . . . a selfish, immature, weak stomach, jerk. Matt squats next to the rock on which I’m sitting.
“Is he going to be all right?” I don’t look at him. Don’t know if I’ll ever be able to look at him again. My eyes stay locked on my nervous hands.
“If you can get him to take his medicine on a regular basis, yes. We got the bullet, cleaned out as much of the infection as we could, and patched him up. His dressing needs to be changed periodically. He needs to eat, and he needs water.”
“I’ll run out and get him a fat elk and a case of bottled spring water. And I’ll get a pig so that I can hide his medicine in a slab of bacon.”
He laughs and stands up.
“I’m sorry,” I say.
“Don’t worry about it.” He walks away.
Shit to hell! I drop my head into my hands.
There’s a rustle. I look up. Sharon is sitting cross-legged, facing me. Oh great! Now the lecture.
“We need to talk about these two men and what we’re going to do about this predicament you’ve gotten your friend into.”
I start to open my mouth, to deny the blame. I shut it. I am to blame.
“I also want to know more about this power you have over the cats, but first things first. Your friend.”
“You want to help?”
“It would be very unchristian of me to say, ‘Your problem,’ and walk away, wouldn’t it?”
I nod my head.
“We should call the sheriff, but I don’t think we have the time to hike out of here and get to where we can call, and then wait for them to show up. How long has it been?”
I look at my watch. “Two hours. Maybe a little more.” Two hours I’ve left Mandi sitting there.
“Did they happen to mention their plan? How are they getting them out?”
“Shoot them with a drug that puts them to sleep, and then lift them out by helicopter.”
“Hm. I guess someone of nefarious means could come up with the drug. This Lester. You said he was one of those involved last summer, that he worked for Vandermill.”
“Yes.” I can suddenly see what is going through her mind. “But he wasn’t at all involved in the shooting of your husband. The men who did that were both killed by the cats. Lester arrived with Vandermill two days later.”
“One of his personal guards, then.”
“Yeah. I guess you could say that.”
“Vandermill would have wanted only those who were calm, but willing to do whatever it took to protect him.”
I nod.
“Maybe you never saw Lester kill, but he would. So we have to assume he’d follow through on his threat. This other guy, Sarge. You don’t know him.”
“No.”
“We’ll have to assume the same with him.” She looks over my head. “What’s your slant, Matt?”
“I only saw Lester right at the end, and I was pretty much out of it, so I couldn’t tell you anything about him. I do agree with your assessment.”
I didn’t know that Matt was standing behind me. I’m embarrassed, and I don’t know why.
“What’s the highest priority?” he adds.
His mom doesn’t answer. Instead she looks at me.
“Ah . . . to get Mandi out alive,” I say. “Unhurt . . . untouched.”
“Are you worried that they might molest her?”
I think about that a minute. “Not unless I don’t show up with a couple of cats. I’m more worried that she is worried that they will. She has a history of being sexually abused.” I consider Matt standing near, really don’t want to break Mandi’s confidence. I say it anyway. “She was raped once. When I left she was deathly afraid of them.”
“Then the sooner we get her out, the better. What about the cats? How do you feel about two of them living the rest of their lives in a zoo?”
Although I had thought about it, I hadn’t really thought about it, if that makes any sense. I really think about it now. I shake my head. “It would be awful. These cats are family to each other. They protect each other. They mourn their own losses. They don’t abandon each other. They care.” I consider the concept for a moment. “They love.”
Sharon says nothing.
“Imagine if two of your sons were taken away to a place on the other side of the world that you couldn’t get to and were told you would never see them again. That’s how they feel about each other. They cared enough about one of their own being shot that they came to get me in Bozeman. They knew I was the only human they could turn to for help. Not only that but all of them came, except for Vadik who stayed with Edik. Even the oldest, Tricia, who really should not have been making the trip. She hasn’t returned yet. I’
m worried about her. Yulya and Gosha are with her.”
Sharon holds up her hand. “Hold on! Stop! Are you saying that after one sabre-toothed cat got shot that the rest went to Bozeman to get you?”
I take a long, deep breath. “Yes.”
“What did they do, wander down the street checking out addresses until they found your dorm, and then ask for you at the front desk?”
“Of course not. That wouldn’t have worked at all. They called and we met at a discrete restaurant.”
She doesn’t laugh. All right, so maybe it wasn’t funny. Mandi would have laughed. I look at Matt. He is now squatted next to his mother. He holds back a smirk.
“Okay. I’ll tell you the entire story. You’re probably not going to believe it.”
Sharon points about her, and at Roma standing close by. “You’ve already demonstrated some strange things here. At the moment, I’m open to anything.”
“Well, you’d better open it even further, because there is a lot more about me than you’ve seen so far. It’s way beyond anything you could ever imagine.”
“I knew a Doctor Dolittle once. That wasn’t his name but that’s what he was called by some. He had an uncanny connection with all sorts of animals. I’ve truly become open-minded, really.”
“Uncanny connection.” I laugh. “Where is your backpack?”
“What do you mean?” Sharon is perplexed.
“Did you leave it next to Edik?”
“Yes, I think so.”
Sabre-Toothed Cat Trilogy Page 101