But he knew better than to underestimate this predator. The females might be smaller, but they were more agile. Hunters. The lioness stalked into the open, paused and looked down the road, toward camp. Large cats liked to play the nonchalant predator while simultaneously side-eyeing prey.
“First level is right behind you,” Leighton muttered, her knee jarring his back. “Sorry.”
He shifted onto it. Felt a big rock beneath his hand and closed his fingers around it. Took it with him as he navigated the next two. Having a crude weapon did nothing for the knot in his gut, especially when Mufasa stalked up next to the lioness. Behind those two, the grass was shifting again. He bit back a curse.
“There’s another,” Leighton whimpered.
“Two more.” His words birthed a pair without manes.
“Lionesses.”
“Or a young lion,” he thought aloud, realizing it was a possibility. “Maybe. I’m not a lionologist.”
“That’s not a word.”
“I doubt they’ll be offended.” Or maybe they would be and would make him dinner. But that’d mean Leighton might be dessert…
God, I think we need a miracle or some type of Elijah action here. Feel free to transport us…anywhere else.
“The lion!” Leighton rasped from behind, hands on his shoulders. “He’s coming!”
Owen blinked, only then seeing the lion stalking forward, straight at them.
Oh no. Not good.
“Guess I offended him.” Gut tightening, he gripped the rock he held tighter as the lion lowered its snout. A squall of nerves told Owen he was going to die. Leighton was going to die.
Nope. Not happening. He waved his hands—and the rock—like a maniac, shouting. Then with his best pitcher arm that had gotten him scouted in high school, he threw the rock and nailed the lion.
Who did not even falter—in fact, it seemed to incite him. He came, unyielding. With a roar, he leapt.
God, help me!
In that terrible, terrifying moment as Mufasa sailed across the distance, Owen had the sudden realization that Leighton’s gasp had come from over his head. That meant she was in plain view. Targetable.
Even as Mufasa went airborne again, Owen thrust upward, straight into its path.
With a powerful swipe of its paw, the lion clawed him. Nails scored Owen’s chest, searing, slicing fire across his chest. “Augh!!” The lion’s momentum sent them careening over the side of the multi-tiered monument.
Twisting to the side, Owen vaulted with everything he had in him away from the lion’s forbidding weight and claws. The last thing he wanted was to get trapped beneath the mighty beast. Large cats were known for pinning their prey and using hind claws to disembowel their victims.
He dived into a roll, feeling a razored burn across his left pectoral. Came up and launched himself aside, too late seeing another feral swipe of the paw that was bigger than his head. The claws caught his jaw and neck. Terror seized him, knowing one wrong angle and his carotid would water this safari. Distantly, he grew aware of Leighton’s screams. Panic stabbed—was she being attacked by the rest of the pride? Her cries and shouts forced him to look, but even as he did, the lion roared again.
Rocks pelted the big cat, who shook his thick amber mane and gave a roar of objection to Leighton. But then, more annoyed than angered with her puny attempt to thwart his kill, the lion again lowered his head and stalked Owen.
I’m going to die. No way he’d survive. The royals were about to get their wish—him and Leighton gone.
God, please! Do something!
A great vibration rattled the ground, the sound drowned by a thunderous trumpeting noise. Before he could sort it out, Owen noticed Mufasa hesitate, swivel his head aside to look behind himself.
The ground shook as if the rocks themselves were going to split in two. Earthquake? Was God answering his desperate prayer by having the ground swallow him or the lion up?
A massive blur stampeded past him.
With a strangled cry, Owen scrambled back as a hind flank the size of a small house barreled past him. An elephant thundered into the fight, coming between Owen and Mufasa.
What…? Body and mind drenched in adrenaline, he watched, shocked and confused as Mufasa challenged the elephant with a more mighty roar, then a smaller one, as if having the last word before deciding the effort wasn’t worth it.
