“Down!” That word I know I get out clear as I raise my head up and peer across the field of snow. There he is. Buddy is stumbling, nearly staggering. He leans against the split tree for a heartbeat, then takes three steps forward and raises his gun.
“No!” My scream echoes across the mountaintop. “No!” I cannot stop it; I cannot save my father. He’s going to die.
Haven’t you gotten enough people killed already?
I block out the pain, get my right leg under me and push to a one-legged standing position, fully shielding the bullet that is about to head my dad’s way. No I haven’t gotten enough people killed yet. There is still me and maybe I can end it. Maybe I’ll be the last.
Buddy pauses for just a second and then is distracted by a movement to his right, which I also pick up from the corner of my eye. One of the kittens, Gretel, I’ll bet, is bounding through the snow as though challenging Buddy to play. I have not had reliable communications with the kittens, so I had no idea they were near. Buddy swings his gun in the young sabre-toothed cat’s direction but fails to take a shot either because Gretel flattens herself below the snow, out of sight in the dark, or because Buddy is a bit unsteady after the knock alongside the head. He may also be a practiced hunter having learned to not shoot until you can fully see and identify your target. Whatever the reason, he fails to fire, momentarily taking his attention off of Dad and me. That won’t last for long, but I already know it doesn’t have to. I look at the tree line behind him and spot Hansel sneaking toward Buddy’s back. Thirty feet out he springs, bounds twice and then leaps.
Buddy’s scream is short. Gretel bounds over and joins her brother. The young sabre-toothed cats have made their first kill, their rights of passage, their coming of age. I try to order them off, tell them that Buddy is not on the menu, but they are not listening. Suddenly I am off my feet again, in my dad’s arms, being carried the rest of the distance across to where Christi and Aunt Suzie are squatted behind the snowmobiles.
For five minutes we hug and kiss and then Christi wants to know what just happened. “Were those sabre-toothed cats? Did they attack that man? They’re smaller than I thought they’d be. Where are the others, Matt and your friend Mandi? Who are those dead guys over there? Where are the rest of the sabre-toothed cats? They won’t hurt us, will they?” Her questions keep coming; my answers are few, the pain in my ass keeping my mind otherwise occupied.
After Dad has gotten my assurance that there are no others, that all the bad guys have been dispatched, he leaves me in the care of my sister and aunt and goes into the cavern. While he is gone, which seems like forever, Christi and Aunt Suzie pepper me with more questions and I try to relay the story from where it began on Friday in Bozeman. I’m to the part where Sharon and Matt arrive when I suddenly get a sense of Edik nearby. I try to sit up, but am locked in place by my painfully, pulsing buttock.
“What’s-a-matter?” Christi says.
“Edik,” I say.
She looks around, suddenly concerned that there is another bad guy out there. “Who’s Edik?”
“A cat.”
She looks around again, big eyed this time. Suzie does the same.
“It’s okay. Edik is my buddy. He is good.” Edik! Come!
I wonder where he has been, but asking is of no use. Was he near when the kittens attacked Buddy? I’m sure he was, though I never felt him. Are my powers diminishing or are my psychic abilities with sabre-toothed cats simply being masked by the pain?
Christi and Aunt Suzie are looking off in the direction of where we last saw the kittens before they dragged Buddy off into the trees. Edik approaches quietly from the opposite direction and then, upon my command, settles down five feet behind my sister. It is Suzie who first turns her head.
“Jesus Christ!” she exclaims and slips off the snowmobile, flopping sideways into the snow. Christi turns and manages a half scream before shoving her gloved hand into her mouth. She removes her self-imposed gag and says, “Holy . . . wow!”
At what I would guess is more than six hundred pounds, Edik is for certain impressive, especially up close, maybe even more so in the moonlit night. And he is looking better. Maybe he found some meaty game and got a good meal. “This is Edik.”
“Can I touch him?” Christi asks.
“No!” Aunt Suzie is being the protective aunt, or is it future stepmother? Should I go against her already? Would it make any difference? She has always liked Christi better, would never take my side no matter how right I was. Still, I shouldn’t create friction if I can help it. Support her. She is the mother figure now, after all.
“Well . . .”
“I don’t think so, Rebecca.” There is a nervous rattle to Aunt Suzie’s voice.
Rebecca? Where does she get the right to call me Rebecca? I have everything I can do to keep from snapping my head around and glaring at her, giving her my mother’s look. “Of course you can touch him,” I say to Christi. She starts to get up. “Wait! Let him come to you.”
“Damn it Rebecca! I said no!”
This time I do turn my head, slowly until we are locked, eye to eye, and then I give her the look, a glare that starts out like my mother’s and then grows with the power of the Smilodon. I am, of course, the sabre-tooth goddess, a human body with a feline soul. But I must not forget that Aunt Suzie carries my mother’s blood and thus some of her own power. She tries to stare me down, and for a few seconds I almost relent just to keep the peace, until the evil side of my feline persona steps to the front and reaches into her mind. If she is going to become my stepmother, she should know what she is getting into.
I said yes, Aunt Suzie. While the shocked look hangs frozen on her face I instruct Edik to rise and go around to her side of the snowmobile. Suzie’s head follows, her eyes grow bigger, but otherwise, she does not move. Edik stops and then lowers his face to within inches of hers. It is a like a Saint Bernard coming face-to-face with a Shitzu. Okay, okay. I shouldn’t compare my aunt to a Shitzu, but it makes such a neat mental picture. Wish I had a camera right now.
Christi doesn’t notice her aunt’s expression as she reaches out and strokes Edik’s coat. I send another order to Edik and he gladly complies by placing a paw in Christi’s lap, taking all attention off of Suzie. Christi is shaking, not with fear, but with pure excitement. Suzie takes the opportunity to slide farther away and then stand and walk toward the cavern where Dad is. She stops and looks back, the frightened look on her face now replaced with anger, not too much different from my mother’s anger when I first invaded her mind.
Just then Dad appears in the light of the snowmobiles. He walks past Suzie and sees Christi and Edik. At first I think he’s going to say something negative. Instead he smiles. “I told you it would be okay.”
“He’s so beautiful,” Christi says.
“I . . .” Aunt Suzie starts to say something and then stops when Dad kneels down next to Christi and joins her in the petting. I have to give her credit; she is not stupid. She knows this is not the time to get in between Dad and his daughters. I hope she understands that there never will be such a time. Aunt or stepmother—just thinking about it weirds me out—it makes no difference. I’ll make sure of that.
“I’ve got the fire going,” dad says, “and a place to be comfortable until daybreak when help arrives. How do we get to Matt?”
I think of the trip over the top, the deeper than deep snow up there, the climb down the other side to the shelf that leads into the tunnel down to where Matt is. There is no way my dad could do that. He is deathly afraid of heights and add in slick, snowy, icy, cold, dark conditions . . . well, let’s say it will not happen.
“You have to get me up to where Mom’s plaque is.” I hope that a good meal was enough that Edik will have the strength to get Sharon, Matt, and Mandi across the water.
And so once again, I’m bundled into Dad’s arms and the four of us, and Edik, proceed into the mountain and up to the place where the river falls in and makes my mother’s la
ke. Edik moves on ahead as Christi and then all of us stop and look at the plaque. She shines her flashlight and runs her fingers across it, and then so does Suzie. Sometimes I forget that they were sisters, only a year apart, almost as close as twins. Tears start down her cheeks and Dad and I turn away, I having no choice as I am still settled in his arms. I point. “Over there.”
My low slung chair and litter of paper and cans still lie where I left it all. Dad notices the beer can and I wonder if he knows it is mine. He says nothing. I eyeball the chair as he lets me down, but I don’t think it would be all that comfortable. I stand on one leg with the rest of my weight on his arm and shoulder, and look for Sharon. “They’re over there, where the hot pool is,” I tell him. We have to wait until they see us.”
“It’s dark.”
Well, duh! I didn’t think of that. I’ve got the eyes of a cat that no one else has. “We need the flashlight.”
“Christi!” Dad calls. “Bring the flashlight.”
She carefully picks her way across the slick stone and hands dad the light. After five minutes of flashing it up and down and back and forth, Sharon’s white face and almost dead flashlight finally appears. When she gets to the water’s edge she nods her greeting to Dad. I ask her how Matt is.
“He isn’t doing too bad. He and Mandi are asleep. So was I except your cat woke me up.”
“My cat?”
“Tricia. She nudged me awake.”
“Oh!” Tricia was there to die, yet here she is still alive and letting Sharon know that part of her rescue team is here. I hope she doesn’t know that so many have died before her. “Is Matt strong enough to ride Edik across?”
“I don’t know.”
“I don’t think there is any other way.”
“I’ll go wake them.” She turns and disappears into the dark.
“What do you mean, ‘ride Edik’?” Dad asks.
“He can leap this.”
“With someone on his back?”
I nod. “That’s how they got over there to begin with.” I expand with the story of Matt holding the sheriff and his men off while Sharon and Mandi are carried over, and how he was shot trying to pull me from the water, and then our recovery in the hot spring. I start to tell of my journey out and meeting up with Buddy and Stinky when Sharon and Mandi appear, Matt hanging between them like a rag doll mannequin. My first impression is that he is unconscious, but when he raises his head and smiles I realize he was simply watching his feet.
It doesn’t take long. I repeat instructions to Edik several times and then send him across, the leap no more difficult for him than four feet is for me. The hard part is figuring out how to strap Matt on. He finally pushes everyone away and says. “Just do it!” the words as much effort for him as holding on, I think. Christi replaces Dad as my crutch so that he and Suzie can get close to the edge, one to each side to catch him should he fall. I hope if he does fall he goes Dad’s way because I don’t trust that Suzie could catch him. They’d probably both go in and be swept out of the mountain.
Okay, Edik. Come. Don’t lose him. And then with the grace and beauty expected of any feline, he sails across. Matt bounces but holds on. I’m glad he doesn’t fall Suzie’s way because she jumped backwards as the big cat came at her. And then instead of assisting Dad in helping Matt off she stands well away, unable to overcome her fear of Edik. So much for being any help. While Dad gets Matt comfortable, I send Edik back. Mandi is next. She has lost all her fear and rides like she has been doing it all her life, dropping off like a prize-winning cowboy after making his eight seconds, and rushes over to where Matt lies. Last is Sharon. She spends a few minutes checking Edik’s dressing. The jumping back and forth is starting to wear on him and blood is beginning to seep from his wound.
Just one more time, Edik. Stay strong just a little bit longer.
Sharon tosses each of the packs across and then eases up onto Edik’s back. Something about this doesn’t feel right, though I am not getting any tightness in my center. Again Dad and useless Aunt Suzie take their positions, Suzie on the lower side, Dad on the upper. I don’t like it.
“Stop! Wait!” I scream over the waterfall. When everybody looks at me I motion for Dad and Suzie to exchange places. I don’t know why, just a feeling, or something to do with wanting Dad, the stronger and certainly more reliable, on the down-river side. They both give me the big question look.
“Trust me!” I yell. I’m looking for a vision, or anything that tells me why I’m breaking out in a cold sweat. My buttock is burning and my right leg is aching from being my sole support.
“What’s-a-matter?” Christi says.
I know she is as tired of balancing me, as is my leg. “I don’t know. I need to lie down.” With Christi’s assistance I ease to the ground next to Matt while Dad and Aunt Suzie shrug at each other and exchange positions. Suzie looks at me and rolls her eyes. Humor the lunatic, she is thinking.
Now they are all looking at me: Aunt Suzie, Dad, Sharon, and Edik, accept for Matt and Mandi. Matt is busy being pampered, and Mandi is busy doing the pampering. The others are waiting for my okay, my thumbs up. I think about it carefully, try to find some negative sense in my center, but discover nothing but a growling stomach and an assurance from one of my other personalities that this is the way it should be; I still have no idea why. I give the visual thumbs up to the humans, and then after I watch Sharon steel herself for the jump, give the mental go to Edik.
Edik dips his head and then backs up a half dozen steps. As with Matt, Sharon has spent her life on horses. I wonder how much of it bareback. I’m certain that she will be fine, but when Edik starts forward, I hold my breath.
It is as the big cat pushes off that I feel his pain. It flares in my own wounded buttock, and I have to bite my lip to check my scream. He hits short sending a huge wave over Aunt Suzie, knocking her flat on her ass. Edik’s momentum, though, carries him on to land, but not without twisting and dumping Sharon along the way. Dad jumps forward, sliding into the water, catching Sharon, both of them flopping down with a splash. They have to scramble to keep from being caught in the passing current, dragging and then collapsing on top of each other on the shore.
“Son of a bitch!” Suzie has jumped to her feet and is stomping around, shaking off water like a near drowned dog. “I’m going to catch my death.”
For maybe three or four seconds Dad and Sharon lay there, staring at each other and for just those three or four seconds all the pain in my ass is gone, and I am certain, beyond all doubt, that a spark has been lit. I don’t know if it is good or bad, if I agree or not. Before I can advance any more thought on the ramifications, Sharon breaks the spell, and scrambles to her feet. “Thanks.” Did she see it, understand it? She looks at me for a split second. Of course she did. Did Dad? Probably not.
I look at Christi whose head swivels from Dad and Sharon over to Suzie, who is using words Christi shouldn’t be hearing, and then looks at me. She saw it too, but I can’t determine how she feels about it. She and Suzie have always been close, but I don’t know how she feels about Aunt Suzie becoming her stepmother, if she’d be happy or pissed if Sharon broke up that relationship. I’ve a feeling she is trying to figure it out herself.
Sharon practically shoves Mandi out of the way to check on her son. I see a brief smile on Matt’s face as he tries to convince her that he is fine. He has been shot in the ribs. He is far from fine. Dad walks up to them, bends across Sharon and gives a greeting to Matt. Matt says something back. Then Dad puts a dripping hand on Sharon’s arm. She looks at the hand and then follows it up his face. Another spark; I know it.
Dad pulls his hand away and points in my direction. He is telling her that I have been shot, asking that she take a look at me. I see the surprise on her face. She didn’t know. She comes over and kneels down next to me.
“Where?”
“Well, let me put it this way. That last guy was a real pain in my ass.”
Chapter 61
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��It’s not nearly as bad as it feels,” Sharon tells me. “The bullet only grazed you. It’ll heal up just fine.”
“Grazed! It feels like the damn thing is still in there.”
“What you’re feeling is where it cut in to about a quarter inch.”
“Quarter inch! That’s not grazed. That’s a burning tunnel of meat. You sure it’s not still in there? Owwww!”
“Is she okay?” Dad hollers from where he sits next to Matt.
“I’m just applying some peroxide,” Sharon calls back.
“She’s killing me, Dad. Help!” I look up and find he has gotten to his feet and is coming my way. “No! Don’t come over here. Just stay where you are.”
He looks confused.
“You can shoot her from there. I don’t want you seeing my naked butt.”
“I don’t have a gun.”
“Then throw rocks at her. Owww! Can you stop doing that?”
“Not if you don’t want an infection. Also, there can’t be a tunnel through meat. This area is mainly fat.”
“Has anyone ever told you that your bedside manner sucks?”
“Except for Mister Ed, not one horse has said a discouraging word against me.”
Sabre-Toothed Cat Trilogy Page 121