by N. C. Reed
And radical animal rights activists in almost every major city raided zoos, releasing thousands of non-indigenous species into the wild. Many were mauled by the animals they were trying to ‘save’. No one was left to try and contain the animals, who found themselves on their own, in a land not their own.
Many died quickly, unable to transition from being kept in a cage and fed every day to self-reliant hunters or foragers. Some were unable to cope with native predators, and were all but eliminated.
But many, far too many, of the more violent predatory species survived. And one had found his way south from Nashville to Cedar Bend.
Just in time for shopping day.
*****
At first Billy refused to believe what he was seeing. It simply wasn’t possible, so that meant he was hallucinating, or he was just wrong about what he was seeing. But as he continued to watch, it began to dawn on him that he wasn’t imagining things.
There really was an African lion trotting down Main Street, Cedar Bend, Tennessee.
At about the same time Billy decided that Leo was real, Leo noticed Billy. The great cat stopped short, lifting his nose to sniff at the air. Billy remained stock still, for once unsure what to do. His M-4 was equal to most tasks, but Billy had a terrible feeling that this beast wouldn’t like being shot by a tiny .223 round at all.
At all.
The others, unaware of what was happening, were talking and laughing inside the store. The lion could hear them, and started pawing and snorting, as if answering a challenge. Billy moved so slow that it felt like years passed before his hand found his radio.
“Everyone be quiet, and stay still,” he whispered into the mike. “Don’t answer me, and don’t open the door. Just stay where you are and be quiet.” He released the button.
“Billy what’s wrong?” Rhonda asked at once. Billy closed his eyes and shook his head.
The lion charged.
CHAPTER FIFTY-FIVE
Rommel’s head came up sharply. He sniffed the air, tasting an unfamiliar scent on the wind. If he could have frowned, he would have. He had never encountered that particular scent before.
Rommel had slipped away from the others in Cedar Bend, allowed to roam as Billy and the others took stock of what was left. He was rarely far from Billy’s side, but the distant familiarity of Cedar Bend had gotten the better of him, and the huge canine had wandered the area around the shops.
Now he stopped, testing the air once again. That scent was strange, but every instinct told Rommel that it was predatory. And that, he decided, made it his business.
He had already taken several steps toward investigating when he heard shots.
*****
Billy threw his rifle to his shoulder and tried to get the charging lion in his sights. Every instinct he owned told him to run, yet those same instincts said if he did, Leo would kill him.
His first shots were off. His target was bounding towards him in giant leaps, which made targeting difficult. It didn’t help that his heart beat was pounding in his ears, and his hands were shaking. If he had ever been more scared in his life, Billy couldn’t remember it.
Concentrate.
Billy took a breath, wasting a second he really couldn’t spare, trying to get his heartbeat under control as well as his breathing. He fired again.
The lion jerked slightly as the bullet ran along his shoulder. All that did was make him mad. Billy kept firing.
Another bullet nicked the lion, and he roared a challenge as he covered the last twenty yards to his next meal. Billy had emptied his rifle by now, managing to score three more hits, one he was sure in the lion’s chest.
But the lion didn’t seem to notice.
Billy didn’t have time to reload, so he dropped the rifle, allowing his sling to catch it, and drew his pistol. The Kimber barked once. Twice. A third time. The first and third rounds hit, and the big forty-five slugs did get the lion’s attention.
Just not in a good way.
Billy was aiming for one last shot when a large, black blur hit the lion from the side, knocking the big cat off his feet, and sliding him several feet along the roadway.
*****
Rommel had followed the noise, knowing that his person often made such noises. Along the way he encountered the predator’s scent again, stronger now. And different. Rommel broke into a run, a ground eating lope that carried him quickly back to where he’d left his person.
Rounding the corner one block up from where his person was, Rommel finally put a picture with the scent. He had no idea what he was looking at, but knew that it was a danger. That was really all he needed to know. In less than a second the large hound realized that this new predator was attacking his person.
And Rommel just couldn’t have that.
He broke into a run, paralleling the giant cat. He gained ground on the beast, and just short of where his person was standing, attacked, hitting the beast in the flank. Catching the large cat off guard, Rommel managed to knock him off his feet.
Rommel hesitated for less than a second before pouncing on the predator.
*****
“Rommel! NO!”
The big dog ignored him, and hit the cat with a fury. Billy could only watch as Rommel tore into the off balance and wounded cat with jaws that Billy had seen crush another dog’s spine in one bite.
But this wasn’t another dog.
Rommel found that out the hard way.
The lion rolled onto his back as the yapping beast launched itself on him. Large teeth tore at him, inflicting still more damage on his body, but the cat managed to get his back legs up and under the dog.
With a strength grown from desperation, the lion kicked out, and was rewarded with a yelp of pain as the dog went flying.
Billy, seeing Rommel be sent into flight, took aim again. He had reloaded his rifle, and now began emptying it into the lion from close range.
The lion tried to get to his feet, but the damage was taking its toll. Billy continued to fire, more of his shots hitting home than before. The lion staggered, then collapsed into the street.
Billy walked to where the lion lay, still gasping, and placed one more forty-five into the beast’s head, then ran to where Rommel was struggling to get to his feet.
“Easy, boy,” Billy soothed, trying to quiet the dog. “I got you buddy. I got you.”
Rommel was in bad shape. How bad Billy couldn’t say just yet, but there was a lot of blood. At least the cat hadn’t managed to get a good purchase with his hind claws, or he knew Rommel would be dead.
“Easy, boy,” he repeated, as the others boiled out of the store.
“What happened?” Pete asked, then stopped short, seeing the dead lion.
“Holy shit,” he blurted. Then he turned to look up and down the street. Just in case. He saw nothing, but his guard stayed up. Lions lived in prides in the wild. If there was one, there was no reason there couldn’t be more.
Rhonda ran to where Billy was desperately working to halt the flow of blood from Rommel’s torn stomach and sides.
“Billy, what happened?” she cried, sliding in beside him.
“What part,” Billy snapped as he tried to use a bandage from his first aid kit to staunch the blood flow, “of don’t answer me didn’t you get?”
“What?” Rhonda looked at him.
“I told you, don’t answer me!” he snarled. “Just be quiet. And the first thing you did is to ask me somethin’!” Rhonda looked stricken, but Billy didn’t care.
“If you had just been quiet,” Billy went on, his voice dangerously low, “like I told you, I might could have shot the damn thing in the head, and been done with’im. But no, you can’t ever do anything you’re told to, can ya? Always, always, got to argue.” Billy managed to tie off the wound, finally, and gathered the still struggling Rommel into his arms.
“I got to try’n git’im back,” he told everyone and no one in particular. “Reckon you’ll have to finish shoppin’ ‘thout me.”
“I’ll go
with you,” Rhonda told him, but Billy shook his head.
“Think you done did enough for one day, thanks,” he didn’t quite snarl. Rhonda jerked as if he’d hit her.
“I’ll drive you,” Pete offered. Again, Billy shook his head.
“You need to stay with ’em. I got it.” With that Billy put Rommel into the front seat of the Ford, and took off home. Rhonda watched him go with tears in her eyes.
“He’s just worried, dear,” Emma soothed, seeing the young woman’s distress.
“He’s right,” Rhonda shook her head. “I never just do as he asks. I always have to argue. And this time I might have killed him. May have killed Rommel.”
Emma couldn’t argue the point, so she said nothing else.
There really wasn’t anything else to say, anyway.
*****
“Just hold on, boy, we’ll be home right quick. Get you all fixed up good.” Rommel licked the hand Billy was rubbing him with, whining in pain at the effort.
“Just take it easy old boy,” Billy told him, driving far faster than he was comfortable with. Or used to.
Some luck remained, however, as he managed to slide into the driveway where Amy lived. She ran to the door, looking out.
“I need your help!” Billy called, racing around the truck to get Rommel out. The dog’s breathing was ragged now, and he was still. Billy looked at Amy, his eyes desperate.
“He got hurt by a lion,” he told her. “Saved my life. He’s hurt bad. Please tell me you might may can help.”
“Bring him to the shop!” she shouted, and ran back inside. She ran to the closet where she kept her medical supplies and started filling a plastic bag.
“Amanda, watch the kids!” she called over her shoulder, running out the back door.
Billy had placed Rommel on Ralph’s work bench, and was working on stopping the flow of blood again.
“Move!” Amy shouted, and Billy moved. Amy stripped away the field dressing quickly and expertly, looking at the wound for less than ten seconds before grabbing for what she needed.
“Did you say lion?” she asked, working quickly.
“Yes’m,” Billy nodded. “Big ole lion right outta the movies,” he told her.
“Where in the world did you find a lion?” she asked, her hands still moving. Rommel had lost some blood, but to her eye, it was less than it appeared, at least at first. And dogs were tough. This one more than most.
“He found me,” Billy admitted. “In town. Must ‘o got out from some zoo some wheres.”
Amy used peroxide to clean the wound quickly.
“Hold him,” she ordered. “He won’t like this.” Billy took Rommel’s head as she doused the wound, using clean gauze to clear away blood.
“Boy, he got you good, didn’t he Rommel,” she asked, never taking her eyes from her work. Rommel whined a little at his name, but offered no resistance. Amy found two separate sets of claw marks, one on the right side of Rommel’s belly, the other well up on his opposite flank. Two tracks looked deeper than the others, but all of them were bleeding.
“You got lucky, Rommel,” she told the dog. “Another inch or two, and he’d have gutted you.” Amy grabbed a pre-made suture, and started stitching.
“Hold him tight, Billy,” she warned. “This will hurt.”
Rommel tried to struggle as the needle bit into him, but Billy held him tight, and the dog was simply too weak to put up much of a fight. Amy’s hand’s seemed to be everywhere at once as Billy watched, fascinated by her ability.
It took almost an hour for Amy to get the wounds cleaned, and then closed, during which time Rommel had lost consciousness. Billy had almost panicked at that, but Amy assured him it was probably okay.
“His system knows it needs rest,” she told him, hoping she was correct. She wasn’t an animal nurse, after all. She stood back, exhausted all of a sudden.
“That’s it, we’re done.”
“Reckon he’ll be okay?” Billy asked hesitantly. He stroked Rommel’s massive head without realizing it.
“I think he might,” she hedged. “I’m not. . .thing is, Billy, I can fix the damage, but I don’t know squat about canine physiology. How his body works,” she explained, when Billy looked puzzled. “I think he’ll be okay, but I don’t have any way to be sure. So long as he hasn’t lost too much blood, the main threat, now, should be infection.”
“I got animal meds,” Billy told her. “Got’em from the vet’s office. Even some anti-biotics.”
“That’s good,” Amy nodded. “Best to use them rather than ours. I think they’re the same, but I don’t know it for sure. Better to use something from a vet’s. You have any books about dog health?” Billy nodded.
“As soon as you make him comfortable, start looking for information. There should be a section in there about what to watch for in the way of signs, whether it’s infection or any other kind of distress. I’m afraid I’ve done all I know how to do,” she admitted.
“It’s more’n I could’a,” Billy told her somberly. “Reckon I’ll pay you back however you want,” he added.
“Billy, I’m glad to do it,” Amy smiled faintly. “It’s not like you’ve never done anything for us, now is it?”
“I’m obliged, ma’am,” Billy told her, and Amy was struck by Billy’s humility. He clearly credited her for saving his beloved Rommel.
“Billy, you kept him alive,” she told him. “If you had panicked, and not bandaged him like you did, he would have lost so much blood there would have been nothing I could do by the time you got him here.”
“Be okay to take’im on home, you reckon?” Billy asked.
“Just be careful,” she nodded. “Make him comfortable. He probably won’t be able to go out for his business, which means you’ll have to clean up his mess. And that’s important. Make sure he doesn’t lay in his waste. That’ll make his wounds go septic, and then we’ll loose him for sure.”
“I’ll mind it,” Billy promise. “Wait on him hand and foot. He hadn’t helped me, that old lion would o’ got me sure ‘nough. I was shakin’ so bad I couldn’t hit him to save my own life.”
“I can’t even imagine,” Amy nodded, understanding. She walked to the truck and opened the door for him.
“Ma’am, I can’t rightly thank you enough,” he told her.
“I’m thanking you, Billy,” she assured him. “Now, go and take care of things. If you need anything, give me a call.”
*****
When Rhonda came in from the shopping trip, having ridden in with Jerry and Emma, she found Rommel in the study, on a large sturdy pillow, water and canned food next to him. The dog was asleep, his breathing labored, but strong. Billy was sitting next to him, reading. Dottie, who had remained with the house, was lying next to her friend. The female looked up at her, but didn’t offer to leave Rommel’s side.
“Hey,” Mary said, walking into the entrance way. “Had some excitement, huh?” Mary didn’t smile.
“Some,” Rhonda nodded. “How is he?”
“You mean Rommel, or Billy?” Mary asked.
“Either. Both.”
“Billy’s right quiet,” Mary replied. “Ain’t said prob’ly ten words since he got back. Been readin’ that book since he got Rommel situated. Readin’ ‘bout dog injuries and such. Rommel’s pretty beat up, but might be okay, maybe, according to what Amy said. She stitched him up, Billy said,” the girl added.
“Thank goodness,” Rhonda sighed. Her greatest fear had been to get home and find Rommel had died.
“Reckon Billy’s a might touchy at the moment,” Mary added. “He ain’t. . .he ain’t been ugly, mind, but he ain’t what you’d call over eager to speak to nobody, neither.”
“Especially me, I’d imagine,” Rhonda nodded. “Get Danny and put these things away. And don’t peek. Please.”
“We won’t,” the girl promised. She went to find her fellow orphan. Rhonda stood in the study door, peering in at Billy, deep in concentration over the book in his la
p. Every few seconds, he’d look up at Rommel, and then back to the book.
“How is he?” Rhonda ventured to ask.
“He’s alive,” Billy told her curtly. “Hopefully he’ll stay thatta way. Ain’t no way to know save to wait on it.” He never looked up.
“Billy, I am so sorry,” Rhonda offered. Billy didn’t respond. Didn’t move.
“Billy, honestly, I didn’t mean. . . .” Billy snapped the book shut suddenly, with a force that made her jump.
“Reckon you didn’t,” he said quietly. “Happened anyways.” He didn’t look up at her.
“I should have done what you said,” Rhonda tried again. “I didn’t think. All I knew was something was wrong. If you had told me - ”
“I shouldn’t have to tell you,” Billy interrupted. “I shouldn’t have to explain ever little thing like that. I should be able to ask you to do somethin’, or tell you, and you just trust me, and do it.” He looked up at her finally, and Rhonda winced inwardly at the look in his eyes.
“That lion could o’ killed me.” Billy’s voice was very low. “When he heard you on the radio, he charged right at me, when he had been sittin’ still. Had you just done what I asked you to, he might o’ stayed still long enough for me to put a bullet right ‘tween his eyes, and dropped’im right where he stood.” He got to his feet, book still in his hands.
“‘Stead, he come a runnin’ at me, a leapin’ and a jumpin’ all over creation, and I couldn’t hit him hard ‘nough to put’im down. I was so scared, my hands shakin’ so bad, I couldn’t hold steady ‘nough to git a good shot. Not for Rommel, he’d o’ got me. And he did git Rommel.” Saying the dog’s name made Billy look at Rommel again, to make sure he was still breathing.
“Billy, I didn’t know,” Rhonda said quietly. “All you said was to be quiet, and I was afraid something was wrong, and I wanted to know. . . .”
“You always want to know,” Billy nodded. “You always got to know, got to say, got to be, got to argue. Even when you know things is how they got to be, you still argue.” He sighed, then. A long, sad sound.
