She Returns from War - By Lee Collins Page 0,66

is making my old bones cranky. Go on and stretch out for a spell. I'll take the first watch." Pulling her rifle from its sheath, she stepped off into the gathering darkness.

Victoria lowered herself onto the thin strip of cloth that Cora had called a bedroll. Associating the comfort of a proper bed with such a thing seemed absurd, but Victoria was starting to accept that people out here took liberties with their language. Rocks and twigs poked up through the bedroll, jabbing her in more places than she could count. She shifted from side to side, trying to find a spot where there weren't as many, but soon gave up and stretched out on her back.

Above her, thousands of stars filled the sky from horizon to horizon. Laying there, it seemed as though the sky would suck her upward at any moment. Or maybe she would fall into it and be trapped, forever drifting above the earth like a cloud, unable to return. The thought made her smile.

TEN

A gunshot. Victoria's eyes snapped open. She remained where she was, holding her breath, waiting to see if the danger had passed. As the rolling thunder of the Winchester faded into the desert, the sound of Cora's voice became distinguishable somewhere behind her.

Another shot shook the night air. Pulling herself into a sitting position, Victoria looked toward the sound. The hunter stood some distance off, a shadow in the dim moonlight, her rifle trained on something

Victoria couldn't see. She could still hear Cora speaking to someone. Was it her? She opened her mouth to reply, then closed it again. If Cora wasn't speaking to her, calling out might distract the hunter. Victoria's gun belt lay next to her bedroll. Pulling the revolver from its holster, she cradled it in both hands and watched.

Cora's form moved through the scrub. Even in the faint light, Victoria could make out the half-crouch of a predator stalking its prey. The old woman was clearly after something, but whether it was one of their unholy opponents from the night before or just another rabbit to add to the pot, she wasn't sure.

Next to her, the fire had burned low. A few flames still licked the charred wood, but they produced little heat and even less light. Victoria looked around for the pile of wood she and Cora had collected, thinking to build the fire back up so she could see better. The chill of the desert night was sharper than she had expected; her arm shook with it as she reached for a branch.

Something was watching her.

It wasn't human, but that didn't mean it wasn't a threat. The American frontier was as full of deadly animals as it was of ungoverned men. Her fingers tightened around the revolver's grip.

After a few minutes of staring one another down, Victoria's hand completed its trip to the woodpile. She grabbed the first piece of kindling her fingers touched and tossed it onto the fire. Two more sticks, and the fire began burning eagerly. Victoria kept her eyes on the animal, ready to raise her gun and pull the trigger if it so much as inched toward her, but it remained where it was. In the light from the growing fire, she could make out a head with small, triangular ears attached to a long body. She took it for a cat at first, but it seemed too large.

A report from Cora's rifle made her jump. The shadow flinched as well, its head turning toward the sound. Victoria stole a glance in the same direction, but her ears already told her that the sound was farther away. The hunter's quarry was taking her farther out into the darkness. The thought made her nervous, but she shrugged it away. Whatever was out there, animal or monster, Cora knew what she was doing.

The sound of fur hissing through the brush broke into her thoughts. She inhaled sharply as she brought the gun up. Step by step, the animal was making its way toward her. It kept its head low, a predatory stance, and Victoria took that as her cue to center the revolver's barrel on its head.

The creature halted its advance. A furry ear twitched. It stood no more than ten feet away, yet she still couldn't see its face. This close to the fire, she expected to at least see the gleam of the flames in its eyes, but she could only make out the vague shape of a long, slender muzzle.

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