Wild Like Us (Like Us 8) - Page 62
The cougar doesn’t turn on her.
He’s after me.
I stand fully up. He lunges, and his paws crash against my chest. My back hits the dirt again, and I just start stabbing.
Every piece of flesh I can find, I sink my knife in and pull out. The sound the cougar makes is guttural, brutal, and I use my forearm to block him from biting my face.
His teeth are like blades puncturing through my skin. Pain radiates in my elbow, and I feel Banks trying to physically wrestle the animal off me.
He’s been trying since the moment it jumped. My stomach sinks when I realize he doesn’t have a gun.
Since he didn’t have a band for his, I’m carrying his gun in my pack. I had more room.
My call.
My mistake.
A fatal fucking mistake.
And then the cougar lashes at Banks as he drops down to his knees.
“NO!” I yell, sitting up to see the cougar raking its claws at my friend. Banks tries to throw him off, but the cougar is close to his throat. I sink my knife into the cougar’s breast. The animal writhes. Blood is everywhere.
Banks quickly reaches for my waist.
He’s going for my gun.
His hand slips up my shirt, grabs the firearm from the band, and without hesitation, he rotates and fires three quick rounds.
The pop pop pop is layered with a growl. It takes me a second to register that the limp, dead cougar on top of us isn’t the one growling.
The animal has already gone slack on our bodies. The weight crushing, oxygen-stealing, and I turn my head to find Sulli.
I see what made that noise, and blood rushes out of my face.
A second cougar.
And it’s charging after Sulli.
22
SULLIVAN MEADOWS
Stand tall and big and loud.
Don’t let it have access to your neck.
Never run away or turn your back.
A second cougar isn’t casually stalking me. He or she is springing towards me, and I know not to turn my back to the animal. But I have nothing to defend myself. No rock is going to stop the attack.
My eyes dart to the Patagonia backpack that flung out of my hand.
My gun.
I need the gun my dad gave me.
Heartbeat in my ears, I can’t hear anything or anyone as the cougar lunges.
Instinct takes hold.
I.
Just.
Run.
Feet to ground. Breath stuck in my lungs. I run.
I skid.
My fingers find my backpack and I’m fast as I reach in, but I’m not fast enough. Paws and claws crash into me, knocking oxygen from my lungs.
Fuckfuckfuck. My hand is on the hilt. Pain flares somewhere on my skin, my body, as I remove the gun from my pack and fire. The bullet rings my ears. And then I release five more pops in quick succession.
Growling and hissing immediately cease. All I hear now is my heavy breath. Fur blocks my gaze. His muzzle lies at my head. His body is on me.
His body is on me.
Warm blood soaks into my shirt. I try to push the animal off me, but my arm’s wedged wrong.
There’s just silence.
Pure silence.
It’s louder and more horrible than anything I’ve ever confronted. “KITS! BANKS!” I yell in raw fear. They’re hurt. I know they’re fucking hurt. The last thing I saw was both of them fighting off that other cougar.
How much death am I lying in right now?
They can’t be dead.
They’re okay. They have to be okay.
“BANKS! KITS!” I scream, hot tears in my eyes. “BANKS!”
Please don’t be dead.
Please don’t be dead.
In a panic, I struggle to push the cougar off me. “KITS!” Hardly breathing. Am I breathing? I choke for air.
“We’re right here,” Akara breathes out, and just like that, the cougar is lifted off me. I try to fight off the dread as soon as I see them.
They’re okay.
They’re okay.
I’m silently bawling—the fear I felt crushes me more than the cougar.
My bodyguards heave the animal aside, and I struggle to regain breath. “Fuck,” I choke and wipe my wet eyes with my forearm.
Crimson stains their clothes. Their skin. It’s hard to tell if it’s their blood or the cougars’. Akara’s shirt is falling off his body, hanging by one piece of fabric at his shoulder. Blood mats Banks’ hair, and they’re both sweeping me, assessing quickly.
I sit up slowly, inhaling jagged breath. Their eyes plant to the gun in my hand.
I haven’t let it go. It feels attached. Like a third limb.
“Sulli,” Banks says, bending down, and Akara drops to his knees in a wince beside me.
“Are you in pain anywhere?” Akara asks.
I swallow hard. Adrenaline hardly recedes to make way for the throbbing in my side. “Just here.” I wipe my watery gaze again and touch my hipbone. Red blood coats my fingertips. Don’t know for sure if it’s mine. “How badly are you two hurt?”
I want to magically take their pain away. I get they’re sworn to protect me. Being in the crossfire of threats is what they signed up for, but an animal attack was never a part of that contract.
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