The Ridge(32)

“Hell of a place,” the deputy said to her as Wes stepped out and walked around to the rear of the truck. “Never seen anything like it.”

“There aren’t many things like it,” she said.

“Now this is the black cat?”

“Yes. The one Wes trapped. It was in the paper.”

He nodded. “I’ve heard about it. My grandmother used to tell stories about seeing a cat just like—”

He didn’t get to finish, because Wes lifted the transport cage’s gate and Ira came out in a blur of fury.

He streaked into the enclosure low to the ground and snarling, then spun back to face them, flattened his ears, and curled his lips back to show his teeth.

The deputy said, “Holy shit,” and took a step back.

“Ira,” Wes said. “Easy, buddy. Easy.”

He stepped toward the cougar, and Ira leaped. When he banged into the fencing, Audrey and the deputy shouted in unison. Audrey couldn’t help it; she’d watched cats twice this size show aggression before, but there was something different here, something frightening.

Even Wes seemed uncertain. He repeated his request for the cat to relax, and Ira responded by slinking toward the center of the cage and hissing. He locked his bright green eyes on the deputy and spread his jaws wide, showing every tooth in full glory, his front paws flexing.

“I know he’s behind a fence,” Shipley said, “but I’m still scared of that boy.”

“He’s the wild one,” Wes said softly. “Hasn’t been moved before. He’ll settle down.”

When Ira sprang onto the wooden platform, the deputy dropped his hand to his gun and Audrey joined him in taking yet another step back. Wes stayed where he was, and Ira ignored them completely, turned away to stare out west, toward the river. He gazed into the gray sky for a moment, then raised his head and screamed. There was no other word for it—cougars flat-out screamed, and Audrey had heard them before.

But she’d never heard anything like this.

“He’ll settle down,” Wes repeated.

“Sure,” Audrey said, her arms prickling, going to gooseflesh.

Behind them, the other cats had begun to stir.

Ira swung his head around, ears pinned back, and studied them. Then he jumped back down, and they all shifted when he landed, nobody—not even Wes—able to stay completely calm after that scream. The cat stalked toward them, sleek belly barely above the grass, tail swishing, each muscle loaded with coiled energy.

“Wes,” Audrey said, “maybe you should get the tranquilizer rifle.”

“He’ll be fine.”

“Wes, please.”

Wes looked from her to the cougar and then moved around the side of the truck. He opened the door and came back with the rifle, which fired sedation darts. Wes hated to use them, but right now Audrey thought they should have the option. She’d never seen any of the cats look this aggressive.

“I think we should just give him some space,” Wes said as he stepped back toward them. “Just give him—”

The cougar saw the rifle in his hand then, let out another chilling scream, and spun away from the fence. He darted to his left, then cut right, dodging between the platforms they’d built for him, almost as if he was seeking a screen against any attempt to shoot, and then, at the far end of the enclosure, he crouched and sprang.

And cleared the fence.

Shipley said, “Holy fuck,” and drew his gun. Wes pushed on his arm, preventing him from raising it and taking a shot, and Audrey just stared in astonishment as the cat vanished into the woods, running low and fast, a deadly shadow slipping back into the mountains from which it had come.

“It just jumped that fence,” Shipley said. His voice was trembling. “How tall is that fucking fence?”

“Fourteen feet,” Wes said. His voice was lower, but not all that steady either. “Fourteen feet, with a recurve at the top. It’s impossible for a cat to clear that thing. I built all of these enclosures myself. They can’t get out.”

He’d just watched it happen, but still he was insisting.

“What do we do?” Audrey said. She found it hard to speak. Her eyes were still on the place where the black cat had disappeared. Around them, the other cats were crowding to the edges of their enclosures, well aware that something was amiss. “How do we get him back?”

“I’ve got to call this in,” Shipley said in a stunned voice. “I’ve got to report this. That thing’s a mountain lion. We can’t just let it run around.”

“It was running around before,” Wes said, and he stepped away from them, went up to the fence, and ran one palm along the chain link, staring at it, this device that had betrayed him. He turned back to look at them, and his eyes were wide with wonder.