I slowly move backward. I pull the bolt on the rifle again and hope there’s another shell in there. The lioness is still limping forward, the male moving sideways toward her. Only fifty feet separate us now. I keep eye contact with the lion, but I want to look for Andrew. I can’t hear him running anymore, but that doesn’t mean he’s safe—there might be more of them ahead. Or something worse.
The two lions are still moving forward, side by side now. The lion leans over to the lioness and licks at her wound. They stop moving but watch as I continue to back away.
Maybe they’re no longer seeing me as prey. Or they’re waiting for one of the other lionesses hiding farther ahead to pounce and take revenge for their injured pride.
“Andrew!” I scream out. I hear nothing in return as the lions continue to watch me. The lioness falls back as her leader steps forward, lowering his body close to the ground. He’s going to charge me.
I raise my hands and step forward, shouting, trying to make myself look bigger. I think that’s a thing; at least it is for bears. Undeterred, the lion steps forward again with his large paw. Maybeonlyfor bears.
“Oh man.” Blood pumps loudly in my ears, sounding an awful lot like the low growl of a lion. I raise the rifle, making sure I get him in my sight before pulling the trigger again.
CLICK.
No! Out of ammo.
There’s more in my pack but there’s no time to get it. I wish I hadn’t sent Andrew away. His gun could come in handy right about now.
I see a flash of yellow to my left—another lion—and my chest feels like it’s going to explode. My body acts on instinct. I turn my empty gun on the lion, expecting to see it running at me from the embassy on the side of the road. This is how I’m gonna die—survived the apocalypse to be mauled by lions.
But it’s not a lion. It’s a yellow excavator left in a construction area. The orange barrels closing off the far-right lane have fallen over and rolled onto the grass separating the sidewalk from the road.
My eyes go back to the lion, which has moved several steps closer. He bares his teeth. The excavator has a cab. I think I can run to it—Ican make it if it’s unlocked, then wait in there and reload the rifle. I can do it. I just have to run.
But my legs won’t let me. They continue to move slowly backward away from the lion, as if they have a mind of their own. I’m almost past the excavator now.
GO! STOP WALKING BACKWARD!I shout at my trembling legs, but they aren’t listening. I sling the rifle over my shoulder and take a hard step to the side. The lion jumps, throwing its paw out to the side as well.
That’s all my body needs to convince it and I’m running—but the lion’s running, too. He isn’t running toward me, though; he knows where I’m going and he’s running toward the excavator, trying to cut me off at the pass.
My pack is weighing me down. I go around the back of the excavator. The door is right ahead of me. So is the lion, his claws out. I jump up on the excavator tracks and reach for the door handle. It doesn’t turn.
I’m dead.
Somehow my brain forces me to pull the handle again and this time it turns—it isn’t locked, just rusted. I yank it open as the lion reaches my side. I jump into the cab and pull the door shut behind me but it won’t close all the way.
The lion bats at the glass door, prying at the gap between the door and the cab with his claws. He roars and gnashes his teeth at me.
There’s tugging against my left. I turn, expecting to see another lion somehow reaching into the cab from the other side; but it’s the rifle strap that’s pulling at my shoulder.
My eyes follow the end of the rifle up to the top of the cab, where it’s sticking out through the door, keeping it from closing. I take the strap off and turn in the cab, still pulling on the door as tight as I can, but it’s clear that the lion’s going to win.
With all my might, and hoping I don’t break the glass, I kick out with both feet. The door swings open and hits the lion hard in the nose. Letting out a roar, he recoils and falls to the ground. I watch in slow motion as the rifle falls out of the cab.
I reach forward, my fingers grazing the weapon, which sends it away from me a little faster. I fumble, then manage to get it in my fingers and grasp as hard as I can. I pull it into the cab and reach for the door as the lion rears up. The door shuts with a metallic groan and I latch it just as the claws push against the window, scratching the plexiglass.
I let out a scream of celebration. The lion continues to scratch at the cab and roar at me. I’m breathing deeply. I feel like I haven’t taken a breath since I told Andrew to run.
Andrew! I scan the road but don’t see any sign of him, so that’s good. He got away. I turn back to the lion. He’s now pacing around the excavator, looking for another way to come at me.
I take my pack off and reach in for the bullets. My body tenses up.No.I move the clothes around, pulling them out along with the cans of food.
“No,” I say out loud. My voice is trembling. “No, no, no, no, NO!” There are no bullets. I remember now, Andrew held on to them so he could take off his pack and hand them to me as needed. And I let him because I never thought I’d be able to use the damn thing.
I throw my empty pack against the front of the cab and sit back. The lion is still pacing. I hold my middle finger against the window.
“Keep pacing, Cujo.” Sweat’s beading on my forehead. I pick up the bottle of water on the floor of the cab. It’s full, thankfully. Henri saw to that before we left. I open it and take a sip. The sun’s getting higher in the sky. By noon it’s going to be over a hundred degrees in here.
I just have to hope the lion gives up before then.
