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"Stop where you are, Harland," A
Harland Roberts stopped. If he was surprised, A
"A
"That's the plan," she returned. "Drop what you are holding. Open your arms slowly and place them on top of your head. Do it now."
He did as he was told.
A
"You liked me, A
"I liked you," she said. "But you keep killing my friends."
He smiled a boyish smile. "A
"Yes. I would," A
His hands stopped moving.
"I'm going to tell you what to do," she stated. "You won't move until I tell you. Is this clear?"
Harland nodded. For the first time A
"Kneel down. Do it now."
Harland knelt.
"When I tell you, take your hands from your head, walk them out in front of you. Lay face down. Do it now."
Carefully, Harland moved his hands from the top of his head. "A
One hand vanished behind the prone lion's head. "Listen, A
A
Harland brought his other arm slowly around, careful to keep it always in her sight. Both hands buried in the thick fur around the lion's throat, he began lifting the big beast gently. With a liquid motion, so smooth as not to seem sudden or even startling, he yanked the lion onto his lap, held its torso against his chest, his face almost hidden behind the lolling head.
"You would shoot me, A
A
Harland began to sidle toward the boxes, toward the hunting rifles. A
The man was careful. Dancing his macabre dance, his partner a demon lover in lion form, Harland waltzed over the stony ground. He reached the crate. One hand slid out, ran along the carved stock of Paulsen's hunting rifle. Not once did a square big enough to fill with.357 cartridge show clear of the inert, living, lion-skin armor.
A
Harland snatched up the Sako, held it shoulder high. Turning slightly, he pointed it at her. The shining barrel caught the night's silver sheen. Its tiny, deadly, black eye met A
"The cat is waking up, Harland," she tried and saw a spark of what might have been fear-or excitement-bloom and as quickly fade in his eyes. He didn't spare even a glance for the unconscious lion.
"Don't you fancy hand-to-hand combat anymore?" A
He just smiled, slow and easy. A
"You never know when a liberal education is going to come in handy," he said and: "Put down the gun, A
"Fuck you," she replied, the.357 unwavering.
The glinting rifle barrel dropped, swung in an arc, ending beneath the lion's left ear. "Do it now," Harland mocked her.
A
Harland let go of the lion. Dead weight, the animal fell to the stones. The bones of its jaw or skull cracked audibly against the rock. A
Harland laughed. "It's not nice to call an armed man a son of a bitch," he said.
"Fuck you."
"A
A
Fleetingly, she wondered if she were going into shock. Or overdrive. How long would this detachment last before terrible fear, deep enough to be a bone sickness, would flood through her and she would understand that now, tonight, she was to die?
"Well? Are you going to shoot me or not?"
"Oh, I'm going to shoot you all right. Bury you here in the Pattersons under enough rock the coyotes won't drag you out at an embarrassing moment." Harland stepped over the lion and moved several steps closer. Not close enough she could grab the rifle; close enough he could see her face. "And damn you for making it necessary, A
"More fun than big-game hunting?" A
He didn't look away from her for an instant. "I told you, I don't hunt anymore. No challenge. I like my prey to have an IQ higher than your average two-year-old. Most of the elk these hotshots pay Paulsen to shoot I could club to death with a baseball bat."