Flesh & Bone (Rot & Ruin, #3)(30)

“I have it,” said Chong, and immediately the carrion stench of fresh cadaverine filled the air.

The closest lion suddenly roared in anger. Chong yelped and dropped the bottle, which bounced and vanished into the grass.

“Oh . . . crap,” said Benny and Chong at the same time.

The lioness took a threatening step toward them. Both of the smaller lions lowered themselves into attacking crouches.

“The gun,” growled Nix.

Benny took a breath. All he had to do was pull the gun out of the holster, thumb off the safety, point it at the big female, and fire. It could all be done in one smooth move. They’d all practiced it, and even if he wasn’t as good a shot as Nix, the target was big.

“Nix—get ready to run,” he said. “Ready? Three, two, one!”

He whipped out his hand, gripped the pistol, and yanked as hard as he could.

He was lightning fast, his hand closed perfectly around the pistol butt; he had the strength and the timing exactly right.

But the safety strap was still snapped in place.

The sudden jerk nearly pulled Nix off her feet. She yelped as one hip was yanked upward, and she lost her grip on Eve. Chong dove to catch her, but the action jolted the little girl awake.

Eve saw the lions and screamed.

The lions roared.

The big female suddenly launched herself forward, tearing across the flat ground toward them.

“Nix!” yelled Benny. He let go of the pistol, brought his sword up, and jumped into the path of the charging animal. On either side the smaller lions roared and charged.

I’m going to die.

But then there was a huge crack! and Benny felt something burn past his cheek.

The charging lion shrieked and skidded to a stop, shocked by the sound. Benny couldn’t tell if she had actually been hit by Nix’s bullet. The other lions froze, looking from the prey to the lioness and back again.

Nix shouldered Benny out of the way as she pointed the smoking pistol at the leader of this pack of killers.

The big female roared in fury.

The smaller lions roared.

Even the male bellowed out a roar of bloodlust and anger.

Only Eve’s supersonic shrieks were louder.

The lions began moving forward again, but this time they crept along, angry but wary. Every muscle in their bodies was etched with tension.

In a moment of crystal clarity, Benny realized that even though they might smell like zoms, what they were doing was not zombie behavior. Skilled predators would know this. Would it deter the lions, or would it hasten their own deaths?

Nix wasn’t waiting to find out. She fired again, and this time the lioness jerked suddenly to the left, her hunting cry punched into a different shape—high and plaintive. And angry.

Very, very angry.

Once again the lions froze in place.

The two smaller cats were only twenty feet away. A few more leaps and they would have been among Benny and his friends with claws and fangs. However, their attack had been stalled by the sharp noises and the suddenness of their leader’s hesitation. They turned to look at her. Benny could see blood on the big cat’s shoulder, but if the animal was seriously injured, it didn’t show. Still, she did not immediately renew her attack; instead she began pacing in front of them. Her tail whipped back and forth in irritation, and with each turn she bared her fangs at them.

Nix trembled with mingled fear and effort as she tracked the lion with the gun.

“Benny . . . ,” she breathed.

Eve kept screaming.

“Hush!” barked Nix, and her tone was so commanding that it even silenced the watching lions for a moment; and the big female paused for half a heartbeat in her pacing. Eve lapsed into a sniffling, watching, quivering silence, her fists knotted in Chong’s shirt.

Nix’s lips barely moved as she asked, “What do I do now?”

“Shoot it!” urged Chong.

“I can’t. I only have three bullets left. The rest are in my backpack.”

Benny swallowed. The pistol was a six-shot revolver, but Tom had taught them to keep only five rounds in the cylinder, with the hammer resting on an empty chamber in case of unexpected jolts. The backpack was hanging on the tree.

“Did you hit it both times?” Benny demanded, squinting to study the animal’s fur.

The lion kept pacing, assessing them, eyes narrowed, teeth bared, tail switching with fury.

“No. I missed the first time because someone almost got in the way of my shot.”

“Oh,” said Benny.

“I got her the second time,” continued Nix, “but she doesn’t look hurt.”

“She’s bleeding,” Benny said hopefully.

The lion continued to pace.

“She’s not even limping. Can’t stop four lions with three bullets.”

The smaller ones continued to crouch and glare; and the big male was now on his feet. He might not have been part of the hunt, but he looked more than ready to use his mass and muscle to protect his mate.

“Nix,” said Chong as he shifted to put his body between Eve and the cats, “try and kill the big one. Use a couple of shots.”

“Why?” Benny and Nix both asked.

“It might scare the others off.”

Benny thought about the funeral for Morgie’s dad. Even though they had just buried a person, everyone hung around the Mitchell house for hours to eat and drink. He had an image of the other lions doing the same right now, and he did not particularly want to be grief snacks for hunting cats that shouldn’t even be on this continent in the first place.