Black Hills

would’ve stayed where he’d been put—and for a good long while, too. He hadn’t made a mistake there, no sir. Mistakes could cost you your life in the wild. That’s why the old man had beat him bloody whenever he’d made one. He hadn’t made a mistake. He’d loaded Jim down good and proper and tied him down strong under those falls. He’d taken his time. (Maybe not enough time, he thought in the secret part of his mind. Maybe he’d hurried it up because the hunt made him hungry. Maybe . . .)
    He pushed those thoughts away. He didn’t make mistakes.
    So they’d found him.
    He frowned at the handset he’d stolen weeks before. He’d heard them on their radios, scattered all over hell and back. He’d gotten a good laugh out of it, too.
    Until that asshole got lucky.
    Gull Nodock. Maybe he’d look up asshole Gull one of these days. He wouldn’t be so damn lucky then.
    But that would have to wait, unless the opportunity jumped up and bit him. It was thinking time now.
    What he should likely do was pack it up, move on. Cross over into Wyoming and set up for a few weeks. Let things cool off. Asshole cops would take a dead tourist more seriously than a dead wolf or cat.
    To his mind the wolf and the cat were worth a hell of a lot more than some fucker from St. Paul. The wolf, now, that had been a fair hunt. But the cat, he had had some bad moments over that cougar. Bad dreams about the cougar’s spirit coming back and hunting him.
    He’d just wanted to know what it was like, that’s all, to kill something wild and free while it was caged up. He hadn’t known it would feel so bad, or the spirit of the cat would haunt him.
    Hunt him. In the dreams, under a full moon, it stalked him, and screamed as it leaped for his throat.
    In dreams the spirit of the cougar he’d killed stared at him with cold eyes that left him shaking with sweat and waking with his heart pounding.
    Like a baby, his father would’ve said. Like a girl. Sniveling and shaking and afraid of the dark.
    Didn’t matter, over and done, he reminded himself. And he’d given pretty Lil a good scare, hadn’t he? Have to weigh the good against the bad there.
    They’d be looking for him hard now, over good old Jim. It’d be prudent—like his old man used to say—it’d be prudent to put some miles between himself and the hunting ground.
    He could come back for Lil, for their contest, a month from now, six months if the heat stayed on. Leave those cops and rangers chasing their tails.
    The trouble was, he wouldn’t be around to see it. No fun in that, no kick, no punch.
    No point.
    If he stayed, he’d feel them hunting him. Maybe he’d hunt them, too. Take a couple out along the way. Now, that would be worth the risk. And it was the risk that got the blood moving, wasn’t it?
    It was the risk that proved you weren’t a baby, you weren’t a girl. You weren’t afraid of any goddamn thing. The risk, the hunt, the kill, they proved you were a man.
    He didn’t want to wait six months for Lil. He’d waited so long already.
    He’d stay. This was his land now, as it was the land of his ancestors. No one would run him off it. He’d take his stand here. If he couldn’t beat a bunch of uniforms, he wasn’t worthy of the contest.
    Here was his destiny, and whether she knew it or not, he was Lil’s.
     
     
     
    WORK IN THE compound moved efficiently, even more so to Lil’s eye when Brad Dromburg arrived. He cracked no whips, pointed no fingers, but everything seemed to move faster when he was on-site.
    Lil’s only problem with the nearly completed system was the learning curve.
    “You’ll have some false alarms,” Brad told her as he walked the paths with her. “My advice would be to limit access to the controls to your head staff, at least for now. The fewer people have your codes, know the routine, the less margin for error.”
    “We’ll be fully operational by the end of the day?”
    “Should be.”
    “That’s fast work. Faster, I know, than usual—and smoother because you came out to oversee. It’s a lot, Brad. I’m grateful.”
    “All part of the service. Plus I’ve had a few days of what we’ll call a working vacation, a little time to catch up with a friend, and the best damn chicken and dumplings this side of heaven.”
    “Lucy’s masterpiece.” She stopped to stroke the sweet-eyed donkey who called to her before moving on again. “I have to say I was surprised you stayed at Coop’s instead of a