Fatalis (45 page)

The geologic charts of the Santa Ynez Mountains showed a different cave access. It was an eighth of a mile to the west of where the National Guardsmen were removing the last of the dead saber-tooths. The Wall drove to the foot of the hill; the cave was just twenty feet up, little more than a yard-wide opening in a white stone face.

Grand, Hannah, and the Wall got out of the photographer's Jeep and started climbing.

Grand moved up the gently sloping hillside like a wraith. He seemed to glide over the rocks, focused on a goal only he could see, and it wasn't the cave. Hannah had been around him enough to know when his mind was elsewhere. She wished he would tell her where.

Hannah and the Wall kept up with Grand as best they could. But the pair were exhausted and it was becoming increasingly difficult. Finally, after falling several yards behind Grand, Hannah stopped. So did the Wall.

Grand turned and walked back down.

"Don't," Hannah said.

He came back to her anyway.

"You go ahead," she said.

"No, I'll wait," he said. "Another few minutes won't matter."

Hannah thanked him with a smile. "Why don't you tell us what we're looking for?" she asked as she took long, slow, deep breaths.

"There were more than a dozen saber-tooths," Grand said.

"Which means?"

"The Chumash shaman only painted twelve sets of eyes."

"All right. He missed some of the cats," Hannah said. "Maybe he didn't want to get too close."

"Possibly," Grand said. "But that may not be all he missed."

"I don't follow."

"I've been trying to understand why the pride split into male and female groups," Grand said.

"You said they often hunted separately," Hannah said, "and that the females were drawn by the smell of tar."

"That may not have been the reason they came to this spot," Grand told her. "They may not have smelled asphalt until after they were here."

"Then what attracted them?"

Grand said. "That's what I want to check."

"Okay. You've got me hooked." Hannah reached her hand out to Grand. "Let's go."

Grand helped her up. They continued up the mountainside together, the Wall trudging behind.

Dawn was just beginning to brighten the horizon as they reached the small cave. Grand turned on a penlight he kept for emergencies. The cave was slightly wider than the opening and seemed to snake down. Grand crept along the rock floor and Hannah followed him on very sore knees. The Wall remained outside; even if he had the energy, he wasn't sure he'd fit. Hannah had no idea what he was looking for, though the thought nagged at her: If the Chumash missed one cat, they could easily have missed others. She didn't want to die. But the irony of dying now, when this was supposed to be over, was even worse.

The cave widened the deeper they went, until they were finally able to stand. They continued along the sloping path. When they were about two hundred yards in, Grand motioned for her to stop. She listened.

There were sounds like sobbing.

Grand hurried ahead.

The cave widened. They were finally able to stand. Grand covered the penlight with his hand and the cave was filled with a dull red glow. He moved ahead slowly, cautiously.

Then be stopped. Hannah stopped right behind him. She looked down at a writhing shape in a small nook of the cave. It took her a moment to realize what it was.

"Jim-"

"I know," Grand said. He crouched, being very careful to keep the light shielded.

Huddled in the corner were six small saber-tooths. They were about the size of small bobcats and were all golden-haired save for one, which had a silver coat. It was a male, larger than the rest. Their paws were large, out of proportion with the rest of their bodies, and their fangs were small and sharp.

Hannah crouched beside Grand.

The cubs probably couldn't make the trip back to the tar pits without resting," Grand said. The females looked for underground shelter and smelled tar, expecting to find prey. They stayed here to take care of the young while the males went back to La Brea. "

The silver-coated cub suddenly broke from the group and walked a few steps toward the intruders. It stood looking at them and then made a sound that was a cross between a purr and a hiss.

"A little tough guy," Hannah said. She looked at Grand. "But he isn't going to stay little."

"No."

"Look at them!" she said. "Why are they here-how did you know? We should call someone at the zoo. They could house and feed the litter until a permanent sanctuary could be established."

"And then what?" Grand asked.

"I don't understand. They survive."

"As what?"

"Jim, you've lost me."

He shuffled closer to the small silver cat. It growled again and didn't back away.

"These cats are hunters," Grand said. "Put them in a zoo and they become an attraction."

"They'll also survive."

"As what?"

"As not-extinct," Hannah said. "Jim, we've been given a second chance. Look what happened to the other cats."

"I know," Grand said. He continued to stare at the bold little cat. "But you can't lock a soldier up."

"What choice do we have?"

Grand looked at her, then started back along the passageway. "There are things we'll need."

"For
what
?" Hannah pressed.

"For doing what nature may have intended when it saved them eleven thousand years ago."

The first thing they needed was to come back and feed the animals, which they did. Raw meat and milk. Then Grand and Hannah went back to Santa Barbara and took a short nap. Together, sleeping side by side. When they woke, word of Sheriff Gearhart's death was filtering through the town. According to charter, Chief Deputy Valentine was named Acting Sheriff. He assumed his duties in a somber ceremony outside the closed door of Gearhart's office. Hannah and the Wall were among those present.

As Hannah saw to the morning's business at the newspaper, Grand bought two large cages and padded gloves. Then he returned to the hills. He grabbed the silver-coated male and a female, caged them separately, and returned home. He left the two animals in the garage. Fluffy barked for a minute, then smelled the saber-tooth's spoor and went to the bedroom, the room farthest from the garage. Other dogs in the neighborhood also barked, but not for very long.

Grand called Dr. Honey Solomon at the Santa Barbara Zoo and told her what he'd found. Four baby saber-tooths. He told her where to find them and what she'd need to rescue them. He made her promise that they would remain at the zoo until he returned to Santa Barbara the next day. He didn't tell her where he was going. When Hannah arrived late in the afternoon, they drove to the airport.

Nothing is ever clean or final.

Not a leave-taking, not a decision, not even a death. There are compromises, sacrifices, and complications. There are unrealized hopes and unfulfilled promise. There is risk.

And there are always disappointments even in victory or happiness, if only because it cannot last.

Jim Grand had learned that when Rebecca died. When he did what he believed was right and lost the close friendship of Joseph Tumamait Perhaps that was why the Chumash believed that animals were higher than humans. Because their needs were less complex, their mission on earth clearer and more attainable. For humans, perfection could last a moment but nothing more.

This too was a compromise. But Grand felt it was a good one. The right one. Not just for the saber-tooths but for his own peace.

As Grand and Hannah flew his Piper Super Eagle seaplane north to Ross Lake in the Washington Cascades, the scientist felt renewed. He had the two saber-tooths in the back. He was going to release them into the wild, where fate and nature would care for them.

Divide and survive
, just as the adult cats had done.

A special habitat would certainly be created for the animals in the zoo, as much to accommodate them as the tourists who were sure to see them. Grand was not happy about the prospect. On the other hand, he would be there to look after them. In the meantime, as the silver male and his little companion grew to adulthood they would feed on local fauna. It would be difficult for people to find them, let alone capture them. Perhaps in time the cats would create a new environmental niche in the mountains, one that couldn't be taken from them by civilization or climate. A place where an ideal balance could be established.

The seaplane landed on the lake after dusk. Grand taxied to shore, then unloaded the cages. He set the female free first. She wandered off several feet, stopped, and looked back.

He released the silver cub.

The saber-tooth male ran after the other. Without looking back, they bounded into the high grasses.

Standing on the isolated shore, Hannah took Grand's hand. There were tall western red cedars and Douglas firs moving in the warm breeze just a hundred or so yards from where they were standing. The sheer-walled mountains, higher and sharper-peaked than in Southern California, soared with stately power into the darkening sky.

"Maybe I should look into some of those Eastern faiths," Hannah said.

"What do you mean?"

"The ones you were telling me about, where all things are connected."

"Something feels whole here, doesn't it?"

Hannah nodded. "You did the right thing, Jim."

Grand felt tears pressing hard behind his eyes as he looked out at the saber-tooths' new home. He held Hannah's hand gently, caressing the backs of her fingers as he thought of the past. Of the distant past, when these creatures were frozen, and of the recent past when a part of him had died.

The cats were alive and free again.

So was Grand.

Blinking out a tear to the stars and to Rebecca, Grand turned and walked Hannah back to the plane.

Jeff Rovin is an Author of many How to Play, video game books which were popular in the 1980s and 1990s. They detail strategies for dozens of games for the Nintendo Entertainment System, Sega Genesis, and Game Boy. He is currently the editor in chief of Weekly World News.