Shepherd's Moon (28 page)

Billy shook off his cougar and reared back, releasing a rapid-fire series of punches to the ribs of the cougar holding me before rolling him off as they tumbled down a small ravine, a tangled mass of limbs until they finally broke away from their grasp in the fall. The cat regained its feet before Billy could scramble upwards and back away. Snarling fiercely and baring its long, white teeth; the cat hesitated now that it faced an opponent a little closer in size and strength. Its long tail whipped irritably up and down.

Finally, testing Billy, it lunged in short, half-hearted bursts, but mercifully its long teeth and hyper-extended claws were no longer focused on me. Billy hadn’t shifted back to his animal form and for that, I was fiercely glad. A lone coyote, no matter what their experience, had little chance of winning a fight against a full-grown male cougar. In the wild, coyotes were quick meals for big cats. Of course, humans were just as vulnerable…

“Shoot it!” I yelled at Daniel.

Confused, he glanced down at the weapon near his feet.

Suddenly it struck me that the one thing we hadn’t given him lessons on was how to handle the dart gun. Ignoring the pain that engulfed my leg, I pulled myself back against the tree and called for Daniel to toss me the weapon.

I couldn’t focus. Couldn’t access the cats’ minds and tell them to stop. I watched, helpless as the endorphins crowded my mind and made it impossible to think.

Everything happened in a blur of motion.

The second cat appeared as quickly as the first and launched itself at me, slamming into me with a force that knocked the air from my lungs and with a sharp
whack
, my head struck the tree trunk.

I was conscious, but that was about all I could say about my current predicament. It felt like I were merely an observer, locked in a scene from a horror movie as my loved ones were slaughtered by some chainsaw-wielding lunatic.

Daniel picked up the gun and spun around, his hands instinctively rising to ward off the first cat as it sprang towards him. He ducked the blow and fired the gun. The dart grazed the cougar’s hip, but didn’t stick. The giant cat hissed and spit, its legs flailing as it scrambled for purchase.

I watched the entire scene unfold before me in slow motion.

And then, the comforting scent of wolf surrounded me. Familiar and gentle, I felt Brock beside me, his warm hands touching my head as he spoke. Somehow I was able to wrap my mind around his words. He was asking me if I was okay, and although I tried to form a response, there was no sound forthcoming. Instead, my mouth just opened and closed like a fish washed ashore in a tidal surge. Behind him, I watched the second cat crouch and prepare to lunge. Taking in as much air as I could, I tried to choke out a warning, my eyes widening.

Brock stood and turned, catching the shifter mid-pounce. He allowed the snarling cat’s weight to drive him to his knees, and rather than resist, allowed the beast to pull him down. Taking advantage of the cat’s temporary lack of balance, he kicked upwards and rolling, deftly maneuvered himself to the top of the creature, pinning it on its back. The cougar’s powerful jaws snapped open and shut like a rabid dog, its clear blue eyes revealing its ferocity and single-minded determination to kill Brock.

Daniel was spurred into action. All members of my team were now in human form and, understanding the danger, he raised the pistol once more to take a shot at the cat that Brock had somehow managed to flip over and pin. The first shot went wild even at close range, ricocheting off Brock’s leg. But the second shot rang true, hitting the cat squarely in the shoulder.

He sighted in on the second cat that now growled menacingly over Billy. It was a clean shot, the whistling dart reverberated through the air and a subsequent sharp thump indicated the dart had made contact with its target.

The effects were not immediate, though.

The cat turned and surveyed the scene. Realizing its partner was incapacitated, it settled back in a half-crouch, ears pinned against his head, hissing its frustration, then bounded into the darkness.

Brock pushed the now unconscious cat off his chest and got to his feet, then grabbed the gun from Daniel’s shaking hands. He took his time watching the fleeing cat through the scope of the long rifle before taking careful aim and firing once.

They all looked at one another. Then with a loud whoop, the three of them pursued the cat into the brush.

Seeing that my team at least was in one piece, I shuddered with relief before the pain from my own injuries overtook me. My head dropped back to the ground with a dull thud and everything went dark.

Hours later.

Was it hours or only minutes?

No matter, in the dream, I felt myself being lifted from the ground and moved with dizzying speed through the desert. Nothing made sense anymore. Not the land, not the mountain lions, not my pack members who were still out in the desert someplace fighting — I simply couldn’t make sense of any of it.

Gazing at the man who held me, recognition washed over me.

“Where have you been?” I asked groggily. But before he could answer, the darkness overtook me and I plunged into a deep, pain-free sea of unconsciousness.

Licking my dry lips, I slowly forced my eyes open. Bright lights shone in the sky above me — my first clue that I hadn’t died. The second clue was the pain that was rapidly flowing through every part of my body.

I was wet, my clothes soaked completely through and, although I couldn’t really feel it any longer, I knew that the cold air would overtake me if I gave it half a chance. Lying flat and using the tiniest of motions, I slowly wiggled each of my fingers, then flexed each arm. The same test was repeated with each leg until the pain from my left thigh began radiating through me and I felt a new flood of warmth on my leg.

I lifted my head enough to glance down at my leg. A piece of material was wrapped tightly around my thigh creating even more pressure, and I knew I was still bleeding. Someone had applied a makeshift tourniquet to keep pressure on the wound.
Wonderful…

Pushing through the pain, I continued evaluating my injuries with tiny movements until I had convinced myself I was just sore and not dead.

Nothing broken — that much I was sure of. Other than a probable concussion and what I was confident would be a completely new series of scars to add to my collection, I was okay. That task done, I made a half-hearted attempt to identify my surroundings.

The green camouflage paint of the pickup and rough vertical indentations in the bed of the truck I lay in forced a harsh revival of the evening’s events. Groaning, I did my best to avoid lapsing back into the hazy unconsciousness that beckoned to me — one that held promises of no pain and no rogue cats…

Rough hands lifted my body to pull my soggy clothes away despite my meager protests, as they wrapped me in a scratchy, but very warm, blanket. Angry voices argued, the harsh sounds fading in and out of my hazy mind. Too tired to protest the bothersome noises and coarse treatment, I instead focused on opening my eyes. Brock, Billy and Daniel stood over me, peering anxiously down as my movement abruptly brought their argument to a halt.

“Hey guys,” I mumbled, feeling queasy as a wave of nausea threatened to overtake me. I forced myself to sit up anyway. White-hot pain jolted me into full awareness as my body registered its new injuries. My eyes slowly focused with a brave attempt to ignore the screaming pain in my shoulder and leg. My clothing was slick from blood but how much was mine remained to be seen. Billy’s calloused hands touched my back, supporting me as I leaned forward. For once, I welcomed his support as I surveyed the scene.

The scent of recently cut lawn enveloped me, signifying we were still at the golf course. My mind began to clear with this information and I inched towards the gate of the pickup. I let Billy help me slide to the edge of the truck, then shook him off. I needed to know the extent of my injuries.

If the pain was anything to go by, I didn’t want to see the actual wounds yet. The pain in my shoulder had subsided to a dull ache, which told me that wasn’t my worst injury. I knew which injury was the worst — the deep lacerations that ran the length of my upper thigh. Nothing appeared to be broken and for that, a wave of gratitude washed over me. The last thing I needed was a broken bone. Stitches were something I could live with. At the very least, they healed faster.

“Where are the cats?” My words came out slurred. “I can’t get a read on them.”

An infuriated snarl from what sounded like a very large mountain lion in the cage behind me answered my question.

Startled, I lurched forward and promptly fell off the back of the truck, hitting the ground with a thud. Looking up from the hard pavement, I eyed the big cat in the reinforced cage.

“
Seriously,
guys?”

“They’re in cages, Alex.” Brock pulled his hand through his hair, observing my shaky response. “Geez. You really can’t get a read on them…”

“I just said that!” Accepting Brock’s hand, I let him gently pull me up. I leaned heavily against the tailgate, using it as support, and observed our new ungracious guest.

Still, I could feel nothing. No connection, no thought patterns, nothing. If I hadn’t been staring at the animal, I wouldn’t even know it was there.

Unfortunately, it was one more mystery that would need to wait as my leg continued seeping a deep red liquid. Cursing, I reached for another long strip of Billy’s shirt and swooned at the sudden movement as my stomach rose up in my throat.

“Damn it,” I mumbled, waiting for the nausea to pass. When I felt as though I could lift my head without losing my lunch, I did a quick headcount of animals and cages. In my current condition, that allowed me to reach
one
and I realized we were missing one of the beasties.

“Where’s the other one?”

With a cautious glance at Billy, Brock shook his head slowly. “Sorry Alex. We only got one…”

“What the hell happened?” I asked, more than a little irritated. “I saw you shoot it.”

Brock shrugged. “Yeah, well apparently I missed.”

Billy offered me a hand that I was suddenly not too proud to accept, and I let him half-lead, half-carry me around to the front of the truck. My head swam with a throbbing pain, as if I’d just done a round of sparring with someone four belts higher than me, and I staggered as Billy caught and placed me into the cab of the truck.

Lifting the blanket, Brock gently checked my head wound while Daniel held a flashlight, then moved to the wounds on my thigh, tightening the bandage on my leg. Satisfied I wasn’t going to bleed out any time soon, he leaned against the open door of the truck and ran his fingers through his hair.

“Geez, Alex. What the hell happened back there?”

Something in his tone set me sideways and I immediately went on the defensive, which for me consisted mainly of sarcasm.

“I suppose the same thing that happened with the dart gun,
oh great white hunter
.”

Darkness clouded his eyes. “I
had
the second one. You saw me take the shot and you know I don’t miss. Daniel here caught up with it and kept it distracted for a few minutes. But by the time we got the cage on location, it was gone…”

“What do you mean it’s gone? Gone where?” I questioned, glancing at Daniel. “Did anyone see where it went?”

Billy shook his head. “I was down too.”

Brock held out a bottle of water and I took it from him, taking a long drink. “Where did Bren go? Send him after the cat.”

They glanced curiously at one another. “No one has seen Bren since the other night.”

I shook my head, ignoring the pounding that resulted from the movement. “I just saw him. He’s the one who brought me back to the truck. As much as I hate to admit it, I’d be dead right now if he hadn’t shown up.”

The boys just looked at one another.

“We were all wondering how you made it back here before us.”

“Well, now you know,” I said, watching their expressions. They were feeling guilty about something and a glance at Daniel told me it had something to do with him.

“No way. We would have seen him. I pulled the cat off of you.” Brock’s voice teetered between concern and annoyance.

“And then she was gone,” Billy interrupted.

I thought about what I saw. The knock on the head must have shaken me more than I thought, but I knew it was Bren who had gotten me out of there.

“He brought me back to the truck.” Looking at their faces, I felt myself get defensive. “I know what I saw, guys.” Turning, I threw my hands up and pulled myself onto the tailgate again.

“Okay — just calm down.” Billy shot Brock a quick glance — it was a look that told me they both thought I was crazy.

“I couldn’t get a read on either of them.”

He leaned back against the truck, crossing his arms. “You get a read on everything.”

“You think I don’t know that?” I snapped. Then more quietly, “It’s like they… well, it’s like they aren’t really there.”

Billy frowned. “What — you mean like ghost cats?”

“I don’t know.” I shrugged, wincing against the sudden rebellion of my shoulder. Geez. Every muscle, sinew and bone in my body ached! I pulled the Velcro of the vest away from my body and flung it away, taking a deep breath. At least I hadn’t shattered any ribs, and other than my leg, I was in one piece. Much as I hate to admit it, Richard’s call on the vest had been a good one.