Sabre-Toothed Cat Trilogy

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Sabre-Toothed Cat Trilogy Page 115

by James Paddock


  I walk back to the lake edge, lie down on my side and curl into a ball. I really want to go home and do the same in my daddy’s lap. I want my mommy.

  Something touches my shoulder and in a flash I’m on my feet and hands, ready to rip off someone’s face.

  “Jeeze, Reba! My God!” Mandi is backing up, her face full of fright.

  “What?” I hiss.

  She doesn’t say anything; just stares.

  “What!”

  “Matt’s awake and dressed. We . . . we need to figure out what to do.”

  I look past her and see him lying on his side. His shirt is pulled up and Sharon is fussing with his wound. I straighten up. “Fine. I’ll be there in a second.”

  She turns and carefully feels her way back to the glow of Sharon’s flashlight. I twist and stretch out the kinks from sleeping on the hard ground. How long was I out? Long enough for them get Matt dressed. I look across the lake and bring my mind back to what I was thinking before I fell asleep. I’ve had enough and it has to end. I go over and squat down next to them.

  “Here’s the way it is. We’re trapped. They know there is a way out of here and it is only a matter of time before they find it. We can either wait until they do and kill us or we can go out and find them and finish it. Bring them all down, or go down ourselves fighting.”

  Sharon turns from her task on Matt. “What are you saying?”

  “It’s us or them. It’s that simple.”

  “How are we going to do anything? We have no weapons.”

  “I’m sorry. When I said we will go out and find them, I meant the cats and me.” I look at Matt. Even in his drug induced, pain killing haze, he is aware. He says nothing but I know that he is in agreement with me. He is angry and would join me in the hunt if he could. I give him a mental thank you and turn back to Sharon. “The drug that they shoot into the cats . . . how long do you think it lasts?”

  “I don’t know. Two to six hours, maybe. I don’t really know what it was.”

  “Figuring that they had to keep them down long enough to haul them out, let’s assume six hours.”

  She shakes her head. “No. Doubt they’d give them that much. They’d rather give them lesser amounts often, every hour or so. Monitor them.”

  “Still, let’s assume they aren’t that smart. The last time I saw Edik, Nadia, and the kittens, they were asleep under the drug. What time is it now?”

  Sharon shines the light on Mandi’s watch. “Almost noon,” Mandi says.

  “It’s been at least nine hours. They should be up and gone by now.”

  “Except,” Sharon interrupts, “if they gave the same dose to the kittens as the adults, they will be out longer, or . . .”

  “Or what?”

  “If it’s too much it could kill them.”

  That thought twists my stomach, and I have a sudden, urgent need to find them.

  “And could they have gotten there before the cats awoke, and given another injection?” Sharon adds. “What time do you think they were injected?”

  “Between 2:30 and 3:00 I’d say. I see your point. It was about sunrise when the sheriff learned that I had taken out his two men who were monitoring them. What time was that?”

  “About six o’clock,” Matt says, and then winces in pain.

  “So, they had at least three hours before he might have sent men there to keep them asleep.”

  “I can guarantee that the kittens wouldn’t have been awake,” Sharon says. “Maybe the adults.”

  “Nadia wouldn’t leave them. She’d stand and defend, or attack. Edik would have stood with her. I have to assume the worst, that they were put back to sleep.”

  “Who does that leave?”

  “Roma, Vadik, Gosha, and Yulya.”

  “That’s good, isn’t it?” Mandi says.

  I shrug. “I only know where Roma is, and he is injured.”

  “Injured!” Sharon is surprised.

  “Earlier, the second time I had to escape by way of the lake, when I saw you guys had been captured, he took two of the men over the falls. I was surprised that he survived.”

  “Wasn’t that Roma who jumped over the creek with us?”

  I nod. “Yeah, and it didn’t help his injury any. He’s in a lot of pain.”

  “You should have told me. I could have given him something to help. Still can.”

  “Deadening his pain will also deaden his reflexes. I need him as sharp as possible right now.” I think for a minute. “I also need to find and gather the others. I’ll be right back.” Without another word I rise and head up through the passage out onto the ledge where I find Roma . . . and a surprise. I am expecting the bright day to hurt my eyes, that I would have to wait for them to adjust. It turns out to be only a minor problem. Roma, as well as everything I can see, is covered in white. Huge, wet snowflakes fall at a tremendously fast rate. I remember the last time I looked out, just before our escape, I thought it was getting ready to rain. I even thought snow. I thought I was joking.

  Roma gives me the, “What now, boss?” look. I give him instructions to gather the others. He rises slowly and carefully works his way along the ledge, through the snow, and disappears up around the top. I turn back into the passage and carefully descend back down to the pool.

  “We may have another problem,” I say when I drop down next to Sharon.

  “What now?”

  “It’s snowing.” All three of them just look at me. “Maybe for as long as five hours at an inch or more an hour.”

  “We could be snowed in,” Mandi says, despondency heavy in her voice.

  “No shit, Sherlock!”

  Sharon continues. “If Matt sets up an infection, which is very likely, I have no way to combat it. I used what I had on Edik. Matt has to get to an emergency facility and into surgery!”

  “I can control the cats. I can’t control the weather.”

  “Remember how you had a cat drag me out on a stretcher last year?” Matt says. His voice is slow and thick.

  “We don’t have a stretcher this time, Matt, and there are no materials around here to make one, if that’s what you’re thinking.”

  He slowly shakes his head. “The helicopter. It might have one.”

  “If I can get to the helicopter, there’d be no point. I’d just get on the radio and call for help, get a medevac team in here.”

  Sharon presses her forehead into her hands. “And if you aren’t successful, even if the Sheriff doesn’t find us, we are stuck here for who knows how long without food.”

  Food! I wish she hadn’t mentioned that. I am so hungry I could eat an entire elk. My metabolism is high, animal high, sabre-toothed cat high, and if I don’t get something in me I’m going to be useless before long.

  After an extended silence I leave them and navigate my way back through the passage up to the ledge. Roma’s tracks and where he lay are nothing but indents in the snow. I sit and look out onto the white world and wait for the sabre-toothed cats. . . my sabre-toothed cats. In less than six weeks I’ll turn eighteen, if I live that long. I can’t wait because it can’t be any worse than my seventeenth year when I learned of my father’s indiscretions, watched my mother as well as Matt’s father and many others die, and have become blessed with a plethora—thank you Mandi for that word—of psychic talents that have made me a freak and bestowed upon me the title of sabre-tooth goddess.

  I turn my head up to the sky to scream, but am silenced by the plethora of rapidly falling snow and a sudden breeze that whips it across my face. I scoot inside the entrance a little farther and decide I’d better develop a plan while I wait.

  Chapter 50

  At least thirty minutes has passed since my plethora thoughts, during which time I might have slept, or I might have cat napped with one eye and one ear open; however, there was nothing to see or hear except the soft patter of fluffy, frozen rain. I still have no plan. I also have no cats. I descend back through the passage to the pool.

  I squat next to Sh
aron. “Something’s not right.”

  I get the, what now? look.

  “I sent Roma out to bring back the others over an hour ago. I can’t even get a psychic sense of them.”

  “You think they’ve been captured?” Mandi asks.

  “I don’t know what to think. I’m worried.”

  “What do we do?” Mandi whines. “They’re our only hope, right?”

  All three stare at me as though I have all the answers. Not only am I answerless, but I’m useless without my cats. “Yeah. Maybe,” I say and then rise and walk down to the lake. I can’t sit with them for very long without getting edgy. I’m edgy enough as it is. If I had a penny I’d flip it into the water, wish upon it and pray to my mother. I have no penny, so I just pray.

  Dear Mom, I look up, or God. How do I get us out of this mess? Please give me the guidance to do the right thing, or the ability to recognize the right thing to do, then give me the strength and the fortitude to do whatever that is.

  And God, I’m sorry about my bad thoughts about Mandi, and about Matt, and about saying the things I said to Sharon. I’m sorry about a lot of things I can’t even think of right now. I’ll try harder.

  Also, God, I’m really hungry. I could sure use a little food. Amen.

  I look across the lake. On the far left is where it flows out of the mountain and crashes to the rocks below. On the right, about three quarters of the way around is the opening to the passage that could take one through the mountain to the other entrance where Sharon operated on Edik, and where I know there is a stash of food, if it hasn’t already been confiscated and consumed by Sheriff Dan’s evil men. The only way to that passage from where I sit is by way of a cold swim. A fourth cold swim is not an option I care to consider.

  I stand and walk to my right along the lake as far as I can, until I’ll have to get wet to keep going. The distance from that point to the passage is probably seventy-five feet, and the wall is not as vertical as I thought. There are places where one could walk, and then places where one would have to be able to cling to the wall. The first ten feet are just that. Spiderman, where are you when I need you?

  I squat and analyze the possibilities until my stomach screams for action. So what if I get a little wet? I’ve survived it three times already. Maybe I could walk all the way and get wet only from the knees down.

  What if there’s no food there? my doubting self breaks in.

  Even if there is no food, I can still reach out and search for Roma and his brethren, I remind my doubting self. It’s better than sitting here and going crazy.

  I return to where the others lounge around the hot spring. “I need a flashlight.”

  They give me the, “you’re crazy” look. “Thought you could see in the dark,” Mandi says.

  “Not in the absolute pitch black. I’m going to try to get to the other passage. I’m sure it doesn’t have any light from anywhere. I just need a little.”

  “I’m not giving up my flashlight,” Sharon says. “What’s up that passage?”

  “The other side. Where you worked on Edik.”

  “It goes all the way through?”

  “Unless the blast from last summer closed it off. If it’s still open, I can get to where I might be able to reach Roma, or one of the other cats, at least get some idea what is going on.”

  “And then what?”

  “I don’t know. It’s better than sitting here doing nothing.”

  Sharon considers the idea for a few seconds. “I still can’t give up my flashlight. It’s all we have to find our way out of here if something happens to you.”

  Of course she’s right. And then I remember. “Matt. You still have your GPS, right?”

  He doesn’t respond. “He’s asleep,” Sharon says. “The GPS is in his pack. What good is that going to do?”

  I stretch to reach the pack and drag it over. “It puts out a light. It’s enough for me to see by. I don’t need much, as I said. Mine died and then I think lost it.” I find the unit in the second pocket I check. “Does he have extra batteries?”

  “I think so.”

  I continue digging until I find them tucked underneath two energy bars. I palm the bars and then drop them and the batteries into one of my pockets, and the GPS unit into another. I convince myself that I need the food more than him, that without me he’ll never get out of here anyway.

  “Okay. I’m going to give it a try.”

  Sharon walks with me toward the lake. Mandi follows. We stand together looking at the questionable route I’ll be taking. “I can’t see the other side,” Sharon says, “but from what I can see on this side, I can’t imagine how you can do it without swimming.”

  The light from the outside doesn’t penetrate all that far for the non-feline human. For me it’s like having a string of lights hanging from the ceiling. “It gets better after twenty feet or so. There are actually a couple of places to walk.”

  “If you wind up in that freezing water, I don’t suppose there’s a place to get warm on the other side.”

  “It’s warm in that passage, just like it is here,” I lie. “The air is dry so it’ll suck the moisture right out of my clothes.”

  She looks dubious. I try not to show that I feel the same way about the entire plan. The passage was cold last year so there’s no doubt it is cold now. I consider going back to the ledge and going out from there, over the top and through the snow. That feels very cold and wet as well. If any men are hanging around my sitting rock, I wouldn’t be able to get into the cave. They probably have no idea that this passage is even here so going this way I may be able to get to any food that is there without them being aware. They could sit on my rock until they freeze as far as I’m concerned. And I won’t leave any tracks like I would in the snow. My only other option is to sit and wait with Mandi, Matt and Sharon until help comes or the snow melts. Help isn’t coming. No one knows we’re here. It could snow for a week and then take two more to melt. Matt can’t last that long. How long can any of us last without food?

  I step up to where the water sloshes against the wall, and then remember my prayer. I turn to Mandi and put my arms around her. “I’m really sorry. You shouldn’t have come with me.”

  “I . . .”

  “I’m sorry for things that I said, or thought about you. You deserve none of it.”

  “I’m sorry, too.”

  “Sorry for what? You have nothing to be sorry for.”

  “For taking Matt from you.”

  I consider what Sharon told me, that he will dump her when it is over. I’m not a hundred percent sure she’s right. “Matt wasn’t mine to begin with. I admit I got jealous, but I had no right to be. I’m sorry.”

  She is crying now.

  “Matt isn’t right for me, or maybe it’s that I’m not right for him.” I feel the evil side of me trying to butt in, wanting to tell her that he wants only me, that she is just a convenient stopping place until this whole thing is over, that we are meant for each other, that she is going to be hurt. I hate my evil thoughts. I push them down. “You two are great together.”

  I don’t know if Sharon can hear my words. She is turned slightly away, looking into the dark out over the lake.

  I push away from Mandi. “I’ll be back.” I hug Sharon quickly and say, “I’m sorry.” Before I have to again say all the things I’m sorry for I step to the wall and reach for my first handhold.

  I’m halfway to the first place I can comfortably stand without getting wet, clinging like a spider, frustrated because I can’t reach the next protrusion from the rock face. I look back at the two women still watching me, no more than eight feet away and then my eyes slide to the fingers of my right hand firmly ensconced in a crevasse. It suddenly occurs to me that my firmly ensconced hand—with fingers hooked like claws—is my problem. There is another similar crevasse six inches closer. I must give up one for the other. Once I convince myself it is possible to do so without plopping butt-first into the freezing water, I have no
problem letting my hand slip to the closer one. I inch to the left and stretch to the next hold—the first of several moves in my Spiderman crawl—until I am standing, somewhat precariously, on a four-inch protrusion a foot above the water.

  Now what? I got lucky on that stretch. What are the chances that my luck will hold for another sixty feet or more?

  I inch along my teeny ledge until it fades, no more than three feet. Fortunately it is followed by a series of micro indents and protrusions, just enough to keep me going to a larger, longer ledge, which is then followed by a pile of huge rocks. I scramble up and across and then sit looking at my next challenge, flexing my cramping fingers, wet only from my own exertion. The next twenty feet, half of the total remaining, consists of smooth, slick rock; no crevasses, no protrusions. On top of that it leans over the water by a couple of degrees. No visible hope of avoiding an icy dunk. I wish I had a stick, a long stick that I could poke ahead of me to see how deep it is. Maybe I can walk if it is no more than ankle deep . . . or waist deep. I could do waist deep.

  I look back again. Mandi and Sharon are still standing there, sort of looking in my direction, though they likely cannot see me. I could go back, but . . .

  . . . the growl of hunger plays from my center.

  I ease from my pointy rock perch until one foot touches the water, pause . . . and then dip.

  Chapter 51

 

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