P. Parrish - Claw Back

“Shit,” Gary hissed, gripping his thigh.

“Did you see where he went?”

“No, no, I didn’t see anything. Ah, shit, it hurts…”

Suddenly, Gary went limp and quiet.

“Gary! Gary!”

No response.

Louis padded Gary’s vest and found his flashlight. Crouching low over Gary’s body, he switched it on. He had to find the wound, find out how badly Gary was hurt.

No blood. He couldn’t even see a hole in his jeans.

Son of a bitch.

Louis switched off the flashlight. It took a moment for his eyes to adjust but finally he could make out the black outline of the far trees. No light. The lantern was gone.

But Louis knew he was out there, waiting. Not with bullets but with tranquilizer darts.

The buzzing of insects filled his ears. Sweat burned his eyes.

Damn. He couldn’t see a thing.

But he couldn’t risk turning on the flashlight and being an easy target for a dart.

Louis pressed his fingers against Gary’s neck. His pulse was slow but strong. He remembered that Katy said a tranquilized panther would stay out for at least a half-hour.

He’d have to chance it and leave Gary here.

Louis began to crawl, slowly, silently, alert for every snap of branch or creak of a door opening. When he made it back to the shack, he eased up against the walls, moving back to the shuttered window. He pressed against it, straining to hear anything inside.

Nothing.

Then he heard it…a faint moaning sound.

No, not a moan. A low growl.

Grace was here, inside this shack. But what about Katy? She had to have heard him yell out Gary’s name. If she was inside, why hadn’t she called out?

Louis slipped around to the front of the shack, feeling his way along the planks for the door, mindful that there might be a cypress stump or porch he could trip over. But there was nothing under his feet but muck.

Grace growled again, louder this time, a deep throated cry that ended in a whimper. It was the strangest sound Louis had ever heard from an animal. Was she dying? Was the bastard performing some sick ritual on her?

Louis drew a breath and held it, hoping to hear a human voice. Nothing.

He knew he had to go in.

But if Grace was loose, wounded and hungry, she might attack him and he might be forced to — God forbid — shoot her. Even if Grace was caged, the shooter could be lying in wait inside and dart him as soon as he opened the door. He would have only a few seconds to return fire. And if he missed, he’d be helpless.

He should retreat. Go back to Gary’s SUV and get on the CB radio. Get some help out here, even if it didn’t come until dawn. He could keep this shack covered until then.

But then Grace cried again, a pitiful growl that floated in the night a long time before it faded. He couldn’t wait — Grace could be dead by morning.

Louis drew up the flashlight and his Glock and stepped to the door. He kicked it in, splintering the jamb.

A scream. Animal scream.

He switched on the flashlight and swung it in an arc. Grace…lying in a cage. Other things registered in a blur. A cot heaped with clothes. A dirty portable toilet. A belt of knives hanging on the wall. And the smell — like rotting meat.

A muffled sound in the dark corner behind him.

He spun.

It was Katy. She was tied up, arms over her head, suspended from a hook on a rafter. In the flashlight beam her eyes were wide and wild above her duct-taped mouth. Her face was streaked with mud and dried blood.

He went to her and peeled off the tape.

She pulled in a ragged breath. “Keno! He’s outside!”

“Katy, take a breath.”

She was tied with fishing line, looped over the hook. He began to work at the line on her wrists.

“He heard your truck and he tied and gagged me! He took the dart rifle and ran outside. He wants to — ”

Something hard came down on the back of Louis’s neck. He tumbled forward, almost falling into Katy. He dropped the flashlight and started to grope for it but suddenly he heard Keno working a rifle mechanism. The bastard was trying to load another dart.

Louis scrambled to his feet and suddenly a beam of light beam came up behind him — Katy had worked one hand free and was holding the flashlight. It washed Keno in white light. He stood, holding the large sighted rifle. His hands were shaking, his clothes were caked with mud and his face was dripping with sweat.

“Freeze!” Louis shouted, leveling the Glock at him.

“No. No, you don’t understand,” Keno said.

“Drop the damn gun!”

“I need to do this,” Keno said. “I need to save her. I need to save her now.”

“Drop the fucking gun!”

“Louis!” Katy said. “Don’t shoot him. He’s — ”

Keno got the dart chambered.

Damn it! He didn’t want to shoot this guy, not in front of Katy but the bastard wasn’t leaving him any choice.

“Louis, he’s trying to save Aunt Betty!” Katy cried. “He thought the panthers would — ”

Keno started to raise the rifle.

Louis fired.

The bullet caught Keno in the shoulder and spun him around. Keno dropped the rifle and fell, landing half outside the door.

Katy let out a strangled cry. Louis went to Keno and snatched up the rifle. He had aimed only to wound, hitting Keno in the shoulder. It was enough to bring him down but he wasn’t going to die.

A howl. Deep and pained, coming from Grace.

“Louis! Untie me! Quick!” Katy yelled.

He started back to Katy but saw the belt hanging on the wall and grabbed one of the knives. He had barely sliced through the fishing line before Katy yanked away and ran to the cage.

Louis used a piece of the fishing line to tie Keno to the door latch. Keno looked up at him then hung his head.

“Louis!”

He turned to Katy. She was crouched next to the cage, holding the flashlight on Grace. He got his first good look at the panther.

She was sprawled on her side in the small cage, all four legs out, her body heaving with labored breaths. The cage was littered with feces, small bones and uneaten food of some kind. Grace’s coat was matted with brown mud.

He went to Katy’s side.

“How did you find me?” Katy asked.

“I got worried and hunted down Gary,’ Louis said. “We checked all the abandoned camps.”

She looked at him, her face half-lit in the light. “Gary? Where is he?”

“Keno got him with the dart,” Louis said. “He’s outside, twenty, thirty feet from the shack.”

Katy nodded, her face slick with sweat. “Get me Keno’s rifle.”

“What?”

“Just get it!”

Louis got the rifle and brought it to Katy. When she stood up, she wavered. Louis held out a hand but she brushed it away and took the rifle.

Grace let out a bellow filled with pain.

“Take this and hold it so I can see her,” she said. Her hand was shaking as she gave him the flashlight.

Louis took the flashlight and trained it on the panther. Katy took two steps back. Her eyes were filled with tears. She raised the rifle.

“Katy, wait! Don’t! We can take her — ”

“She’s in pain, damn it!”

Grace raised her head, her eyes coming up to Katy.

Katy fired.

A sharp pop!

Grace’s head fell hard and her yellow eyes went blank.

Louis stared at the motionless panther. He didn’t even realize Katy had moved away until he felt something brush his shoulder. She was holding a blanket.

“I need your help,” she said.

“What?”

“There’s a Coleman lantern in here somewhere. Find it and bring it over to the cage.”

“Katy — ”

“Just do it, please!”