It issued a low, growling murmur deep in its throat as it realized it had found the source of the fresh blood. An easy meal.

The cat issued a second, more forceful growl and jabbed Nathan’s neck with a paw. It was funny what the human mind was capable of thinking at times like these. With bizarre detachment, Nathan thanked God it had missed his wounded arm, but that thought died when he felt cool air on his skin. The cat’s jab had opened a hole in his ghillie suit.

The animal pushed again. Harder.

His lungs screaming for air, Nathan continued to play dead. If things kept going like this, he wouldn’t have to play dead.

Go away!

When he felt the cat’s sandpaper tongue lick the back of his exposed neck, he’d had enough.

With as much strength as he could muster, he simultaneously issued a war cry, the loudest, most fierce sound he could make. He snapped his body to the left and cracked the cat in the nose with the butt of his gun.

* * *

Leonard watched the animal traverse the sand and stop at some sort of low shrub. It lowered its head and sniffed. Had it lost the scent? If it had been following someone, where were the tracks? Looking for human footprints, he swung his scope back to the edge of the underbrush where the cat had emerged, cranked it to maximum zoom, but saw only the cat’s footprints.

At the left edge of Leonard’s magnified image, he caught sudden movement. He swung the rifle back. “What the fuck?” he said aloud. The mountain lion jumped six feet into the air. When it landed, it bolted away from the shrub at a full gallop.

The shrub went vertical and began sprinting across the sand. Not a shrub, a ghillie suit and a damned fine one at that. “Oh, you’re good,” Leonard said. He placed the crosshairs slightly ahead of the green mass.

And pulled the trigger.

* * *

Nathan’s timing had to be perfect. He needed to vary his speed as he ran. Now! Five feet from the safety of cover, he hit the brakes and nearly skidded to a stop. A split-second later, he heard the telltale crack of a supersonic arrival. Out in front to his right, the sand exploded from the impact. If he’d kept running at the same speed… Using his left hand, he pointed the Sig at the ground slightly left and ahead of his path and fired five shots. The sand burst into the air. It wasn’t much cover, but it would have to do. He dived into the underbrush on the opposite side of the wash and scrambled behind the thick trunk of an oak. He pressed his back against its form as a second bullet tore past his position on the left.

* * *