Hunted Past Reason Read Online Free PDF Page B

breath.
    Lying on an outcrop of rock on the hill to their right was a mountain lion. It was lying on its left side, stretched out in the sunlight.
    For a few moments, Bob felt a tremor of uneasiness. He'd seen mountain lions before but in cages or confined environments. To see one so relatively close— at least it seemed close to him— and in the open . . . it was something that made him feel uncomfortable, even menaced.
    But as moments passed and the large, tawny-furred cat lay motionless, obviously sound asleep, the discomfort faded.
    "What a gorgeous animal," he whispered.
    "Lots of good steaks in there," Doug whispered back.
    Bob gave him a look. "Come on," he whispered. "You don't mean that."
    Doug punched him lightly on the arm. "Just teasing the animal activist," he said.
    Their conversation continued in whispers as they gazed up at the sprawling mountain lion. Its flanks rose and fell slowly as it slept, a faint breeze stirring the light-colored fur on its right flank.
    "I'm not an animal activist," Bob said, "I just think it would be criminal to harm a beautiful creature like that."
    "It is beautiful," Doug agreed. "Sleek. Quick. Powerful. Deadly." He made a clicking sound of admiration. "The perfect predator."
    Oh, Jesus, Doug, you're hopeless, Bob thought. He decided to keep it to himself.
    "Well, let's keep going," Doug whispered, turning onto the path again.
    Bob looked across his shoulder at the sleeping mountain lion as they moved away from it. Briefly, he imagined the cat waking up, spotting him, and with a frightening roar, leaping to its feet and off the rocky ledge, bounding toward him, muscles rippling, eyes intent on his.
    Oh, shut up, he told himself. It wants to be left alone, no more. He looked ahead again. Doug had increased the length between them.
    "Doug?" he called as softly as he could; no point in waking up the mountain lion unnecessarily.
    Doug stopped and looked around.
    "I've got to pee again."
    "All right," Doug said. He stopped and waited while Bob stepped behind a tree.
    "Drink more," Doug told him. "You've been pissing out a lot of liquid."
    "All right," Bob answered. "My bottle's getting kind o' low though."
    "There'll be plenty of water in the lake," Doug told him. "Drink."
    "Yessir." Bob emptied his bladder on the trunk of the tree. "Hate to pee my way across the entire countryside," he said.
    "Don't worry, it's biodegradable," Doug's voice reached him.
    He finished and walked back to the path, drinking water. "Warm," he said, frowning.
    "I forgot to tell you," Doug said. "Carry the bottle inside your pack wrapped in a piece of clothing. It'll keep your water cooler."
    "Oh." Bob nodded.
    "I've noticed, you're not walking erectly enough," Doug told him. "Don't slump. And don't lean forward. All of that's bad for your back. And keep a steady stride. Not too fast, but steady."
    Yes, Professor, Bob thought. He almost said it aloud, then changed his mind. Doug was telling him these things to benefit him, not harass him. Just listen, nod, and fermez la bouche , he instructed himself.
    "Try not to lift your feet any higher than you have to," Doug went on. "Swing your arms; good for circulation. And keep a steady, rhythmic pace. You'll get less tired that way. Slow and steady wins the race."
    What race? Bob thought. Are we in a race? He put the thought from his mind. Just listen, ordered his brain.
    "I hope you've done a lot of walking to toughen up your legs," Doug told him.
    "Quite a bit," Bob lied.
    "Well, let's be on our way," Doug said. "Got to keep moving or your muscles will cramp."
    Muscles? Bob thought.
    The stream was wide and fast-moving, a fallen tree across it covered with deep crosshatches. "Makes it easier to cross," Doug said. "Incidentally, since you're so curious about trees, those cinnamon-colored bark ones are incense cedars."
    Bob nodded. Thank you, Professor, he thought.
    Doug bent over and broke a twig off the tree. "Watch," he told Bob, tossing the twig into the stream.