Hide and Seek

I'd have to try for the heart. The eyes would ideally be better, or

the soft, sensitive nose, but both those targets were too small for me

at this distance and I knew how fast and well he'd move them.

I looked down at the massive bony chest and then back to the eyes. I

knew where the tines would have to go. I tensed to put them

The growl was loud as a buzz saw in that space. The teeth snapped.

Impatience. Display. And knowledge, too, of what we had in mind. I

know that now.

The eyes held on me. Through the cloudy white lenses I sensed a

recognition. Yes, it's me. We've met before. You know me.

Arrogantly, they shifted.

I rushed him, arms and legs moving like machines in fine order. No

missteps. No faltering. My arms drew back the pitchfork and plunged

forward with power and accuracy. I surprised myself. I was good. I

was very good.

And not nearly good enough.

I was prepared for bone and muscle. There was every bit of me behind

it, one hundred seventy pounds. He'd be hard to kill, so it had to be

that way there'd be no second try. So I gave it everything. And felt

a sickening scrape along his backbone and a tug of resistance at the

hip joint of the right hind leg, and then there was nothing but air.

I fell forward hard, the flashlight skittering out of my hand. I heard

it crack and saw it die against one of the vertical columns next to

Casey. I still had the pitchfork. I rolled as I fell and hit

shoulder-first and kept rolling, over on my back, and pulled the tines

up close, expecting to see it looming over me, knowing it would go for

the neck.

But it wasn't there.

His flashlight beam slid erratically over the ceiling. I looked up and

heard the heavy thunk of his axe handle and sighted him in time to

watch it bounce off the animal's skull as though it were lightweight

plastic.