Amazonia (Page 82)

“And my shotgun,” Nate added.

Carrera spoke, “I’ve fitted a new cartridge into the Bailey. But it’s my last.”

Manny crouched with his pistol. “There’s some old debris blown in the back of the cave—branches, leaves, whatnot. We could light a fire at the entrance.”

“Do it,” Kostos said.

As Manny turned, a long, low growl rumbled up the slope. Everyone froze. Illuminated by the flare, a large shape revealed itself on the rocky slope. Weapons were raised.

Nate recognized the shadow as the largest cat.

“A female,” Manny mumbled.

It remained in plain sight, studying them, challenging them. Behind it, the jungle churned with sleek bodies, muscled and clawed.

“What do we do?” Carrera asked.

“The bitch is trying to psych us out,” Kostos grumbled, lowering his eye to the sight on his rifle.

“Don’t fire,” Nate hissed. “If you shoot now, you’ll have the whole pack on us.”

“Nate’s right,” Manny said. “Their blood lust is up. Anything could set them off. At least wait until we have a fire going here.”

The cat seemed to hear him and let out a piercing yowl. In a surge of pure muscle, she leaped toward them, charging at an astounding speed, a precision machine.

The Rangers fired, but the she-beast was too fast, gliding with preternatural swiftness. Bullets chewed at the rock, sparking, missing, as if she were a true phantom. A single razored disk whizzed from the Bailey and zinged off a boulder to skitter harmlessly down the slope.

Nate dropped to one knee, shotgun pointed. “Here, kitty-kitty,” he hissed under his breath. Once she was close enough…

Carrera repositioned her weapon, but before she could fire another shot, she was bumped aside. Tor-tor lunged past her, leaping from his master’s side to the slope beyond.

“Tor-tor!” Manny called.

The smaller jaguar bounded a few yards down the slope and stopped, digging in, blocking the path of the larger cat. With a sharp snarl, he crouched low, rear haunches raised and bunched to spring, tail flicking with menace. He bared his long yellow claws and sharp fangs.

The giant black jaguar rushed at him, prepared to bowl him over, but at the last moment, she pulled up and stopped in front of Tor-tor, matching his stance, snarling. The two cats hissed and challenged each other.

Kostos lifted his weapon. “You’re dead, bitch.”

Manny motioned him not to shoot. “Wait!”

The two cats slowly padded around each other, circling, only a yard apart. At one point, the giant female’s back was toward them. Nate could tell both Rangers had to restrain themselves not to fire.

“What are they doing?” Carrera asked.

Manny answered, “She can’t understand why one of her own species, even a small one like Tor-tor, is protecting us. It has her perplexed.”

By now, the two had stopped snarling. They cautiously approached one another, now almost nose to nose. Sharing some silent communication, the circling continued. Raised hackles settled back to sleek fur. A soft chuffing sounded as the larger cat took in the scent of this strange little jaguar.

Eventually they both stopped their dance, once again back to their original positions. Tor-tor crouched between the cave and the giant cat.

With a final grunt, the large jaguar leaned forward and rubbed her jowl against the side of Tor-tor’s cheek, some understanding reached, a truce. With a blur of black fur, the giant cat spun and slipped back down the slope.

Slowly Tor-tor straightened from his crouch. His eyes glowed golden. With a feline casualness, he licked a patch of ruffled fur back into perfect place and turned to them. He padded back to the entrance as if he’d just come back from a stroll.

Carrera lowered her weapon and shifted her night-vision goggles. “They’re pulling back,” she said, amazed.

Manny hugged his pet. “You stupid bastard,” he mumbled.

“What just happened?” Kostos asked.

“Tor-tor’s close to being sexually mature,” Manny said. “A juvenile male. The female, though huge, appears proportionally to be about the same age. And with all the blood in the air, tensions were high, including sexual tension. From their actions, Tor-tor’s challenge was construed as both a threat and a sexual display.”

Kostos scowled. “So you’re saying he was making a play for her ass.”

“And she accepted,” Manny said, patting his jaguar’s side proudly. “Since Tor-tor came out and met her challenge, she probably believes him to be our pack leader. An acceptable mate.”

“What now?” Carrera asked. “They’ve pulled back, but haven’t left. As a matter of fact, they seem to be massing down the chasm a bit, blocking any retreat back to the swamp lake.”

Manny shook his head. “I don’t know what they’re doing. But Tor-tor has bought us some time. I say we use it. Get that fire lit and keep our guard up.”

Nate watched the bulk of the pack flow down into the jungle chasm. What were they doing?

“We’ve got company,” Carrera said, voice tense again.

She pointed in the opposite direction, deeper up the canyon.

Nate turned his attention. In that direction, he saw nothing but the dark jungle and the broken landscape of rock at the foot of the cliff. “What did you—”

Then movement caught his eye.

A short way up the chasm, a dark figure stepped more fully out of the jungle fringe and onto the exposed shale. It was a human figure. A man. He was as much a shadow as the cats, black from head to toe. He lifted an arm, then turned and began to walk up the canyon, keeping in plain sight. They watched him, stunned.

“It must be one of the Ban-ali,” Nate said.

The figure stopped, turned their way, and seemed to be waiting.

“I think he wants us to follow him,” Manny said.

“And the jaguars aren’t leaving us much choice,” Carrera said. “They’ve settled into the jungle below us.”

The distant figure simply stood.

“What do we do?” Carrera asked.

Nate answered, “We follow him. It’s why we came. To find the Ban-ali. Perhaps this was their last test, the jaguar pack.”

“Or it could be another trap,” Kostos said.

“I don’t see we have much choice,” Carrera said. “I have a feeling we go or the pack will finish us off.”

Nate glanced over his shoulder to the deeper depths of the cave. Ten yards back, Kelly, Kouwe and the others were still gathered around Frank, now stripped to his boxers. The man seemed to be sedated. Anna stood, holding an IV bag at shoulder height. Kelly had one of her brother’s stumped limbs already wrapped in a bandage and was tying off a vessel in the other. Kouwe knelt beside her, ready with the bandages for his other limb. Around them, empty syringe wrappers and small plastic drug bottles littered the cave floor.