Growling, it stared at the cloth, and reached out as if to tear it from place. But its hand halted, just short. It wanted to tear through, but hesitated again before a bestial growl of frustration shook its head and it raised infernal eyes at Hunter. For the briefest moment, it seemed more human than monster. The snarl that twisted its face embodied an intellectual hate.
Hunter held the glare.
Together, shoulder to shoulder, they paced up and down the flimsy white barricade. And their eyes remained solidly locked. It curled monstrous hands in frustration, claws clicking. Hunter held the huge Bowie knife in an iron grip. Up and down, up and down they paced, defiant glare to defiant glare.
It was the strangest of all standoffs, man and monster, each separated by something that a child could sunder. Then with a final, angry growl of promise, the creature whirled — a movement of tiger-like grace — and was gone.
Hunter stood there, numb, for a moment. His fist was locked so tightly on his Bowie that he couldn't let it go. Then he took a deep breath, and then an even deeper breath, backing away slowly from the thin partition. He turned around to see wide eyes, silence. No questions were asked; everyone was in shock.
Finally, Takakura spoke. "Could you…explain that, please?"
Hunter looked at Taylor. "Take the entrance. It worked that time. I don't know if it will work again. I doubt it." Then Hunter sat against a wall, staring at the wet limestone. He noticed that his grip on the Bowie had relaxed, and, very carefully, slid it back into the sheath. He licked his lips, took a sip of water, and explained it in a manner that they might understand. He began, "Do you know how they kill a tiger?"
Takakura shook his head.
"They take a piece of white cloth," Hunter continued, bowing his head. "Then they make a V with it in the forest. Maybe half a mile long on each side, but it leads to the place where the lines meet. It's only three feet high. Just a piece of white cloth. Then they drive the tiger into the V with elephants and beaters. And once the tiger is inside the V, they have him dead."
"Why?" Bobbi Joe asked.
"Because a tiger," Hunter continued tiredly, "although it can leap forty feet, won't cross a piece of white cloth that's over three feet high. It scares him, for some reason. And the hunters, the shooters, are waiting for it at the tip of the V. So the tiger is trapped inside this flimsy piece of white cloth, which it could easily leap, but it doesn't. And when it gets to the bottom of the V, the hunters open up and kill it."
Bobbi Jo was staring hard. "Why won't it just jump over the cloth?"
"No one knows."
She continued, "And you gambled that somewhere in this thing, whatever it is, are the latent instincts of a tiger, that it would be afraid to cross the white cloth?"
"It has to have some weakness."
A moment passed, and she smiled. "You've got guts, Hunter."
Recovering from shock, he laughed.
"I've been told worse."
Chapter 9
They survived the night, emerged into light only to see a darkening sky. Clouds low, black, and sliced by lightning. But the temperature was too high for snow. Hunter didn't care about the rain but knew it would adversely affect the professor, whom Bobbi Jo had tended to through the long night.
They began the day early and covered distance cautiously. Professor Tipler held up well until noon, when the terrain grew steeper and he began to need more rest. Without saying a word, Hunter knew it would be one more night before they could make it to safe ground. His mind began to ponder, but he had no ideas. He knew, somehow, that the trick he used last night wouldn't work again.
It would find a way.
They kept walking until finally the professor sat down, exhausted, on a fiat slab. Hunter didn't even have to turn back to know what had happened. He knew everyone's rhythm, gait, shuffle, and Taylor's Frankenstein plodding. He stopped and looked and saw that Tipler was pale, haggard, and sitting with head bent low.
Hunter didn't want to usurp Takakura's authority, so he motioned quietly for the Japanese to join him in a private conference at the front of the line. Together they knelt and Takakura spoke exactly what Hunter was thinking: "Yes, I know. He cannot go much further." There was a decided lack of fear in the statement, and Hunter remembered "Expect nothing."
"I don't think that what we did last night will work again, Takakura,"
Hunter said. "It's getting smarter by the moment. And we're almost out of ammo."
Takakura gazed around, analyzing. "This is as good a place as any to make a stand. We have at least one hundred meters on each side. Perhaps, if we are lucky, we can discourage it with the Barrett."
Hunter released a deep breath. Yeah, it was a good place, but that thing could cover a hundred meters in six seconds. And that was too fast to acquisition for a shot. Still, he didn't have a better idea.
He shook his head.
"It's gonna be a hell of a fight."
Hunter gently gave Tipler a drink of water, noticing the ghostly paleness of the old man's face. His hands trembled slightly and he moved with an odd stiffness. Hunter estimated that some of the rigidity was due to the severe testing of muscles, but it could be more.
"How ya feeling, old man?" he asked.
Tipler laughed, "I am feeling splendid, my boy. I just need a night to rest a bit, and then we shall be on our way."
"You bet." Hunter smiled. "But right now all you need to do is rest. I'll be back in a bit to check on you, and Bobbi Jo is gonna be close. She'll be looking in on you, too." Hunter winked. "You just don't go trying to pick her up. She's too young for ya."
Tipler laughed.
Hunter laughed with him as he rose and exited the tent. Then he examined the perimeter. It was a hundred yards across, and Bobbi Jo crouched dead-center in the middle of it, rifle pointed at the sky. She was wearing night-vision goggles and had her back to the fire. She was also wearing what most referred to as "wolf ears" — devices that amplified sound for humans so they could hear as well as a wolf. Hunter had never needed them.
Takakura, also keeping his back to the flame, held the MP-5 close, and was wandering a tight circle while the rest held established positions. Hunter walked directly to him, and Takakura, acutely aware of any movement, turned slowly to face him.
"It has the advantage, Takakura," he said.
"Yes," Takakura responded. No emotion.
"But I think I know how to keep it from attacking."
Takakura stared an unusually long time. The black eyes narrowed. "And what would that be?"
"A challenge."
Consternation in Takakura's face betrayed his confusion. "I believe we have given it as much of a challenge as possible, Hunter. I do not understand your—"
"It's an animal, Takakura, and I understand animals more than any of you. It's the alpha of this forest. The strongest. The ruler of the forest, if you want to put it like that. We're on his ground now, and he doesn't like it. He wants to show us he's boss."
Takakura replied, "And?"
"And so we show him that he's not. That's a challenge he can't resist."
Silence.
"And how would we go about doing such a thing?"
Hunter lifted his head to the darkening forest that surrounded them. "I give it a challenge. It won't be able to resist. If I go out there, I'll be the alpha. It will hate that. It will hunt me instead of you. Then it won't attack the camp."
"You are speaking of…"
"Yeah. I go out there. Let him chase me instead of me chasing him. Turn things around on him. It'll be surprised at first, but it'll take the bait. I can lead it south."
Takakura said nothing for the longest moment, as if the idea did not deserve a reply. "If you encounter the creature in the dark, it will tear you to pieces."