The Killing League

27.

Nicole

The attack came in an explosion of speed and ferocity that gave Nicole no time to react.

In a single breath of time she recognized Sal’s body attuned to something just beyond them, his ears pointed, his massive shoulder muscles bunched as a blur of brown and white, blazing yellow eyes and an inhuman scream sucked every molecule of oxygen from the air around her.

From a dense stand of scrub brush and a few chollo trees a dark brown blur flew at them. Nicole had just enough time to scream, and nearly lose her arm before she dropped the leash as Sal shot forward, pulling with all his might to get at the mountain lion.

It flashed through her mind — news stories of lone hikers and or bicyclists attacked by mountain lions and eaten, or dragged off the trail. One old man had been saved by his wife who used a ball point pen to gouge the big cat’s eyes.

It all went through Nicole’s mind in a flash and she watched Sal crash into the big cat. Nicole whipped the knife from its scabbard along her ankle and took a step forward just as a second explosion rocked the air around Nicole’s head. She felt dizzy and nearly collapsed as the dark brown blur reversed itself and disappeared back into the scrub brush. Sal was back on his feet in an instant and about to dart into the brush when Nicole screamed.

“Sal! No!” She prayed that every moment of training would kick in and Sal would listen to her.

He did. The big dog stood at the edge of the brush, his teeth bared, the hair on his back standing out in a long, dark ridge. Nicole knew that every fiber of his being shouted at him to chase the intruder down and kill it.

“Motherf*cker!” Tristan said, her voice high and tight like a plucked violin cord.

Nicole turned and saw her friend with a gun in her hand pointed toward the sky.

The smell of cordite hung in the air around them.

“What—?” Nicole started to say.

Tristan lowered the gun and parted her backpack to reveal a holster inside.

“You can never be too careful, Nicky,” she said, as she thrust the gun back into its holster and zipped the backpack shut.

“But how did you know?” Nicole asked.

“I didn’t,” Tristan said. “When Sal turned and you turned and we both heard something, I slipped my hand inside just in case. And when that f*cking thing bolted, I just ripped the gun out and shot it in the air. I’m glad I didn’t shoot you, Christ, I haven’t fired a gun in ages.” Nicole thought her friend’s hand was shaking a little bit. Tristan looked very pale, too.

“Wow,” Nicole said. She was still shaking, and Sal was now growling instead of barking. “We need to let someone know about this, like, now.”

Tristan pulled out her cell phone. She looked at the display and shook her head. “We’ll have to hike down to the parking lot to get reception. But yeah, if that thing attacked us, it’ll attack someone else.

Tristan put her hand on Nicole’s shoulder. “Are you okay?” she said.

Nicole felt the weakness in her legs. It was too much. The attack, the gunshot, it brought back memories. Bad memories. She looked down and realized she was still holding her knife. She slid it back into her ankle scabbard.

“I never was a cat person,” she said.