Fatalis (44 page)

"They're in the atrium!" an officer yelled in the distance. "One of them's in the rafters. We need reinforcements
now!"

The rafters were a design element, a network of metal struts that crisscrossed the top of the atrium. Police ran up the walk. Grand had known he wouldn't be able to save the other two saber-tooths. But if there was a chance to save this last one, he would.

As the saber-tooth neared Grand, it also came closer to the street. It began picking up hints of streetlight. This was indeed the leader of the pride, at least ten feet in length and just over five feet at the shoulder. Its fur appeared to be silver and there was a long, high ridge of hair running along its back. Like the other cats it held its head low. The saber-tooth also had thick, white whiskers that drooped beside its striated fangs.

The last time Grand faced one of the saber-tooths the cat had a companion. The scientist stole a quick look behind him, just to make sure there was nothing there.

They were alone. That was fitting for Grand, and maybe for the leader of the pride.

Grand turned back to the cat. It was about ten feet away and undistracted by the mastodons. Their unfamiliar odor and inanimacy obviously told him that they were not prey. He put his hands together and began crushing the pieces of bark. He needed to be the resolute hunter, but it was difficult. Grand was still a scientist. This was probably the largest cat that ever lived, a magnificent animal by any standard and something no living human had seen for thousands of years.

What was it thinking
? he wondered.
Was it confused, scared
?

The cat certainly didn't show fear. Grand wondered if this pit had been his home, the saber-tooth's private feeding area. Perhaps the leader itself no longer hunted. Perhaps the other cats had gone to fetch prey for it. Offerings for the saber-tooth king.

The gunfire stopped. There was an eerie calm behind the pit. Then, in the distance Grand heard car engines starting, orders being shouted. A moment later the scientist saw a large police recovery van drive up on the walkway and stop between the flagpoles in front of the museum. Police medics ran out carrying stretchers and emergency medical kits. It wouldn't be long before Mindar, the police, or Hannah found him here.

The struggle was over and somehow the giant cat seemed to sense that. The saber-tooth stopped moving. Grand looked into the animal's dark, golden eyes. They seemed to lack the anger, the fire he'd seen in the eyes of the cat at the Juncal campsite.

The cat resumed creeping forward. Perhaps it wanted one last confrontation, to die in battle. Or simply to die. It was both sad and ironic that Grand and the saber-tooth both had the same thing in mind, the cat's survival, and that they have to fight one another to ensure it.

"I want to help you," Grand said softly.

The cat began to growl. There was something hollow, almost mournful in its cry. Grand finished crumbling the bark. His fist was filled with fine, spiky particles. If necessary he'd throw them in the cat's eyes, blind him and get behind him, use the rope and oars to create a tourniquet. Ancient peoples used to use them to tie people to sacrificial altars, twisting the sticks one around the other to make the bonds tighter. If he could get it around the cat's neck and tie it to one of the trees, he might be able to hold it there until it could be sedated-

Suddenly, police officers moved in from the west on foot. They were coming from the direction of the Ogden Street garage, which they'd probably just secured. The police were followed by a phalanx of squad cars, their red and blue roof lights flashing. Each officer was wearing a helmet and body armor and carrying a powerful Mini-14 rifle. Headlights and spotlights from the cars illuminated the street ahead and on both sides.

The northernmost car suddenly stopped. A moment later, so did the others. The squad leader of the foot patrol was in the front of the dozen-or-so officers. She called for the others to stop.

The car crept ahead. The rim of its spotlight had picked out the saber-tooth. As the car moved forward, more and more of the cat fell into the brilliant glow of the light. The saber-tooth's shaggy silver-white fur seemed to shine in the light. Grand, who was standing behind the palm tree and the mastodon replicas, was not visible to the police.

The saber-tooth turned and pawed at the light, roared at the intruders. The long, fierce cry was different from the one it had uttered moments before. This one made the water on the tar pit ripple.

"Shut off the light!" Grand yelled.

Through the two trees the scientist saw the police step back and lower their rifles. He couldn't hear what they were saying but he didn't have to. The rifles were aimed through the mesh of the fence.

Grand ran back along the curving side of the dark pit. "Dammit,
don't shoot
."

The squad leader saw the scientist. "Hold fire!" she shouted.

The saber-tooth roared again.

"The light!" Grand shouted. "Kill it!"

The leader told the drivers to shut off the spotlights but it was too late. The cat suddenly hunkered back on its haunches and leaped onto the plaster elephant in the tar pit. It landed on the elephant's sloping back, just beyond its head. The gray plaster cracked, revealing the mastodon's iron frame. The saber-tooth crouched again.

"Comin' at us!" the squad leader yelled. "Ready!"

The officers turned on the flashlights attached to the barrels of their rifles. The cat bellowed.

There was a wooden footbridge that crossed the southern end of the pit just before Wilshire Boulevard. The saber-tooth roared and launched itself toward the bridge.

The squad leader gave the order to fire. Over a half-dozen rifles spat at the animal.

"
No
!" Grand screamed.

The saber-tooth seemed to freeze as it jumped from the elephant. Spots of red appeared on its underbelly and then the giant toppled from the live-size statue. The cat landed with a dull splash on the side of the pit away from the shore. Ripples of tar rolled toward the sides as the cat's head came down near the hindquarters of the mastodon.

It would take a few minutes for the saber-tooth to sink. Dropping the particles of bark, Grand threw one of the oars up between the tusks of the mastodon. With a bit of maneuvering he was able to lock it between the upraised tusks. Grand waded into the tar and pulled himself out. Even here, with the tar just up to his shins, the suction was extraordinary. Grand climbed up to the elephant's head, slid down to its shoulders, and looked down at the cat. The silverback was lying on its side, struggling ferociously. Blood streamed across the surface of the tar. The more the cat pulled, the deeper it went, its hindquarters lowering first.

Grand removed the oar from the tusks. He untied the rope and made a noose, then held onto the exposed metal framework at the top. He tossed one oar back to shore and used the other to break open the side of the mastodon, exposing more of the support structure. Then he dropped the oar and climbed down the frame until his feet were in the tar. Hooking his arm around one of the struts, he held the rope and opened the noose to its fullest extent a little over a yard across. He lowered it toward the cat. If he could get the rope over the cat's head he felt he could maneuver it over the forelegs and secure the creature. Then they could secure the animal to the elephant and hopefully get a vet here to deal with the wounds.

Hannah and the Wall had gotten through the relaxed police barricade. They stood behind the police onshore.

The saber-tooth swatted at the rope, and then at Grand. The scientist ignored the raking paw as he struggled to work the rope closer. All he needed was to capture the head and one foreleg.

The animal howled and scratched its free left foreleg at the air. As the saber-tooth struggled, its hindquarters suddenly went under, momentarily pulling the cat upright As it stood there, Grand quickly tugged the noose from the pit and dropped it toward the cat. But the animal ducked and surged forward. It twisted so that it was facing the mastodon. Both forepaws were free of the pit though one of them was soaked with tar. The cat latched onto the frame and tried to pull itself up. The mastodon began to creak.

"Jim!" Hannah cried.

Using wire cutters, two police officers made a hole in the wire fence surrounding the tar pit. Hannah immediately shouldered around them and rushed through the opening. The Wall stayed protectively close to make sure she didn't wade into the tar to try and reach Grand. Back on Wilshire, a police emergency-services truck had arrived. The officers quickly unloaded a fifty-foot life line and life ring. They also took out a pole-mounted animal noose in case the cat needed to be restrained and a sixteen-foot extension ladder that was long enough to reach from the shore to the mastodon.

The cat was thrashing about the base of the elephant. Grand spoke to the saber-tooth as quietly as possible. But the noose, and his careful maneuvering of it, only seemed to infuriate the cat. Every time he came close to slipping it over the some part of the cat it would swat and howl and sink a little lower.

Grand knew the animal was lost.

The saber-tooth's enormous paws smacked at the plaster skin, forcing Grand to jump higher. The cat roared and threw itself at the frame, furiously trying to latch onto the metal with its front claws and submerged back claws. Any time the saber-tooth managed to get a hold, the tar refused to release it. And as the cat continued to struggle, the elephant began to list. The metal frame bent near the base and the upper struts started to fold inward, outward, and around.

Grand took a last look at the cat, which was hissing and rolling its head, trying to rise. There was nothing Grand could do.

The mastodon shuddered. Quickly reeling in the rope. Grand turned toward the shore and threw the tar-blackened lariat toward the smaller of the two palms. He lassoed one of the lower branches and jumped free of the elephant just as it collapsed. He pulled himself up the rope as he swung across the pit to keep from being caught in the tar. Grand remained on his feet as he reached the shore. Hannah ran over and put her arms around him. He looked back.

The cat clawed at the wreckage but wasn't able to pull itself free. The animal sunk to its forelegs, then to its shoulders. Its struggles slowed. Grand watched, helpless, as the police came in. Two men held the animal noose but it wasn't long enough to reach the saber-tooth; they didn't even try. The animal shook its head in a last, violent dispute with the tar. It tried to raise its forelegs but there was nothing for it to push from.

In a moment they would be gone again, this time forever.

It was a monstrous joke. He'd always blamed himself for not being with Rebecca when she died. Yet he was here when the cats died and he hadn't been able to save them. Not one. As Tumamait had told him after Rebecca's funeral, "Fate works inconsiderate of our needs and designs."

The police squad leader looked at Grand, who turned his back to the pit. The scientist hugged Hannah.

"I'm so sorry," she said.

The leader gave the order to fire. There was a short volley and then the slashing stopped.

Grand wept into Hannah's neck. She held him tightly.

After Grand left the pit with Hannah and the Wall, Lieutenant Mindar sought them out. The officer wanted to thank the scientist for everything he did. Grand didn't say anything about that. All he said was that he was sorry he couldn't save Sheriff Gearhart.

"Don't be sorry." Mindar said. "The sheriff died the way a man like that hopes to die. With his boots on."

"And with his work unfinished," Grand said.

"Yeah. Well, you make your choices."

The sheriff's body was taken away with those of the other victims of the saber-tooth attack. Lieutenant Mindar said he would see to it that Gearhart was brought back to Santa Barbara for burial. Before leaving, Hannah asked if she could use what Mindar had said about Gearhart as her editorial eulogy. A simple quote under a photograph of the sheriff.

Mindar said sure. Hannah felt the sheriff would have appreciated that.

As Grand, Hannah, and the Wall headed back to the car they saw scientists from the Page Museum who had come to claim the cats, while city, county, and state health officials were also at the scene with mobile laboratories to take samples of human and saber-tooth blood, to ascertain whether those who were bitten might be at risk from unknown organisms.

The Wall drove them back.

Grand and Hannah sat in the backseat. Grand didn't speak. He just looked out the open window at the night sky that was rich with stars. Along certain stretches of the freeway, with the lights in homes and office buildings turned off, the sky barely moving as the car sped home, Hannah almost felt as though time had been rolled back. The sky was clear and the sea air smelled as it probably did millennia ago-the poor cats. They had to have been so confused. If she found herself suddenly transported to their time, Hannah wondered whether she would have wanted to stay alive. Whether she
could
have stayed alive.

Hannah looked at Grand. Yes, she decided. She would go if he were there. She took his hand. He squeezed it but he didn't take his eyes from the window, from the distant hills. Nearly an hour had passed, but he didn't move. She wondered where
he
was.

And then, suddenly, Grand looked at her.

"Do you have the geologic charts?"

"They're in the back. Why?"

"We have to go to Monte Arido."

"Now?"

"Yes," Grand said urgently.

"The National Guardsmen will still be there-"

"I know. That's why we need the charts."

"Why? What's there?"

"Something else the Chumash may have missed," he said.