Wild Rain
Page 56
He recognized the smell of the assassin. It didn’t matter that he had taken human form, there was no doubt in Rio’s mind the attacker was the same one who had hurt Fritz. He had obviously trained as a sniper and was good at guessing where his target would be. Rio slowed his progress, sacrificing speed for stealth.
The foliage just down and to his left swayed slightly against the wind. His enemy was moving in closer to the house, changing position on the chance Rio had a bead on his line of fire. Rio paced along above him, high in the branches, waiting patiently for a glimpse of the man. He eased his rifle into position, peering through the scope. His adversary never exposed so much as a part of his arm, staying in heavy flora, allowing the shrubs and flowers and leaves to keep him invisible.
Several trees to the right of the house, Rio caught sight of a pair of eyes glowing through the foliage.
He knew immediately that Franz had been drawn back to the area by the gunfire. The small clouded leopard was making his way home along the upper highway made of a network of branches. The leaves swayed. Rio swore eloquently, lifting the rifle to his shoulder and squeezing off several rounds into the heavy shrubbery where he was certain the intruder had settled in for his next chance at a shot. Rio coughed loudly, a grunting cough of warning, pinning the intruder down with a multitude of bullets to keep him from getting off a shot at Franz.
The small cat leapt back, disappeared completely, fading away as their kind could so easily into the thick fauna. Rio shouldered his rifle and took off through the trees, changing directions quickly, going up and into higher foliage, careful to keep from shaking the brush.
He’d given away the fact that he was outside the house, taking away any advantage he would have had. It was a game of cat and mouse now, unless he had scored a hit on a target he couldn’t see and he very much doubted if that had happened. Rio stayed absolutely still, lying prone in the tree, his eyes sweeping the area continually. The intruder had to have moved. No one could have stayed in the spot without taking a hit, but he was a professional and he hadn’t given away his direction.
Rio worried about Rachael, all alone in the house with the injured clouded leopard. He had no idea if she had the patience it took for the kind of waiting a sniper often had to contend with. It could take hours to flush out their intruder. He should have checked her leg before he left her. He had visions of her bleeding to death there on the floor waiting for him to return.
His eyes never stopped moving restlessly, sweeping the forest in a continual pattern. Nothing moved.
Even the wind seemed to die down. The rain began, a soft patter falling on the dense canopy overhead.
Minutes went by. A half an hour. A snake crawled lazily along a branch several feet from him, drawing his attention. Several leaves fell from the nest of an orangutan as it shifted its weight to nestle deeper into the branches of a tree. The movement, several yards from him, drew his attention.
Almost immediately Rio noticed the branches of a small shrub, just below the tree where the orangutan nested, started to quiver. It was low on the ground, an unusual choice for one of his kind. Rio watched car efully and saw the bushes move a second time, just a slight shiver, as if the wind passed by. He eased his rifle into position, careful not to make the same mistake. Back farther into the ferns and shrubs, he could make out the bruised and torn petals of an orchid scattered on top of a fallen and rotten trunk.
Rio remained unmoving, watching the area closely. Time passed. The rain fell in a steady rhythm.
Ther e was no more movement in the thick shrubbery, but he was certain the sniper lay in wait there.
Several nocturnal flying squirrels leapt into the air, fleeing a tree directly across from Rio. They chattered and scolded to one another as they landed, clinging to the branches in a neighboring tree.
Twigs and petals cascaded in a small shower onto the rotten log and shrubbery below. Rio smiled.
“Good Franz,” he whispered to himself. “Good hunting, boy.” His eyes never left the forest floor.
A boot heel dug a short groove in the vegetation as the sniper shifted to get a glimpse of the treetops over his head. Rio squeezed off three shots in rapid succession, spacing each bullet up the line of the body just as the intruder realized he was exposed. The sniper screamed as he rolled over a small embankment, then abruptly was silent.
Rio was alr eady running along the branch highway, changing position, closing in on his target. He coughed twice, dropping flat both times to distort the sound, signaling to Franz to circle around and stay under shelter, then he was up and running again, covering as much ground as possible before the sniper could possibly recover.
Rio was far mor e comfortable stalking prey from the treetops, but he began to make the descent to the lower reaches, using thick branches to move quickly from tree to tree, careful to keep to cover as he did so. He dropped to the forest floor, landing in a crouch and going completely motionless, blending into the deeper shadows of the forest.
He was silent, scenting the wind. Blood was a distinctive odor, unmistakable in the air. Drops of rain penetrated the canopy and splattered onto the rotting vegetation. A bright green lizard raced up the trunk of the tree, the motion drawing his attention. A red splotch smeared a lacy fern embedded in the bark. Rio remained still, his gaze relentlessly sweeping the terrain searching for any movement, any sign of the intruder.
Several short barking calls signaled a herd of adult barking deer nearby. Something had disturbed them enough to cause them to sound the alarm. Rio leapt onto a low-hanging branch and gave the grunting cough of his kind to alert Franz. The enemy was wounded and on the run. There was more blood in the thick needles and leaves on the ground where the sniper had rolled, but it wasn’t ar terial blood.
The foliage just down and to his left swayed slightly against the wind. His enemy was moving in closer to the house, changing position on the chance Rio had a bead on his line of fire. Rio paced along above him, high in the branches, waiting patiently for a glimpse of the man. He eased his rifle into position, peering through the scope. His adversary never exposed so much as a part of his arm, staying in heavy flora, allowing the shrubs and flowers and leaves to keep him invisible.
Several trees to the right of the house, Rio caught sight of a pair of eyes glowing through the foliage.
He knew immediately that Franz had been drawn back to the area by the gunfire. The small clouded leopard was making his way home along the upper highway made of a network of branches. The leaves swayed. Rio swore eloquently, lifting the rifle to his shoulder and squeezing off several rounds into the heavy shrubbery where he was certain the intruder had settled in for his next chance at a shot. Rio coughed loudly, a grunting cough of warning, pinning the intruder down with a multitude of bullets to keep him from getting off a shot at Franz.
The small cat leapt back, disappeared completely, fading away as their kind could so easily into the thick fauna. Rio shouldered his rifle and took off through the trees, changing directions quickly, going up and into higher foliage, careful to keep from shaking the brush.
He’d given away the fact that he was outside the house, taking away any advantage he would have had. It was a game of cat and mouse now, unless he had scored a hit on a target he couldn’t see and he very much doubted if that had happened. Rio stayed absolutely still, lying prone in the tree, his eyes sweeping the area continually. The intruder had to have moved. No one could have stayed in the spot without taking a hit, but he was a professional and he hadn’t given away his direction.
Rio worried about Rachael, all alone in the house with the injured clouded leopard. He had no idea if she had the patience it took for the kind of waiting a sniper often had to contend with. It could take hours to flush out their intruder. He should have checked her leg before he left her. He had visions of her bleeding to death there on the floor waiting for him to return.
His eyes never stopped moving restlessly, sweeping the forest in a continual pattern. Nothing moved.
Even the wind seemed to die down. The rain began, a soft patter falling on the dense canopy overhead.
Minutes went by. A half an hour. A snake crawled lazily along a branch several feet from him, drawing his attention. Several leaves fell from the nest of an orangutan as it shifted its weight to nestle deeper into the branches of a tree. The movement, several yards from him, drew his attention.
Almost immediately Rio noticed the branches of a small shrub, just below the tree where the orangutan nested, started to quiver. It was low on the ground, an unusual choice for one of his kind. Rio watched car efully and saw the bushes move a second time, just a slight shiver, as if the wind passed by. He eased his rifle into position, careful not to make the same mistake. Back farther into the ferns and shrubs, he could make out the bruised and torn petals of an orchid scattered on top of a fallen and rotten trunk.
Rio remained unmoving, watching the area closely. Time passed. The rain fell in a steady rhythm.
Ther e was no more movement in the thick shrubbery, but he was certain the sniper lay in wait there.
Several nocturnal flying squirrels leapt into the air, fleeing a tree directly across from Rio. They chattered and scolded to one another as they landed, clinging to the branches in a neighboring tree.
Twigs and petals cascaded in a small shower onto the rotten log and shrubbery below. Rio smiled.
“Good Franz,” he whispered to himself. “Good hunting, boy.” His eyes never left the forest floor.
A boot heel dug a short groove in the vegetation as the sniper shifted to get a glimpse of the treetops over his head. Rio squeezed off three shots in rapid succession, spacing each bullet up the line of the body just as the intruder realized he was exposed. The sniper screamed as he rolled over a small embankment, then abruptly was silent.
Rio was alr eady running along the branch highway, changing position, closing in on his target. He coughed twice, dropping flat both times to distort the sound, signaling to Franz to circle around and stay under shelter, then he was up and running again, covering as much ground as possible before the sniper could possibly recover.
Rio was far mor e comfortable stalking prey from the treetops, but he began to make the descent to the lower reaches, using thick branches to move quickly from tree to tree, careful to keep to cover as he did so. He dropped to the forest floor, landing in a crouch and going completely motionless, blending into the deeper shadows of the forest.
He was silent, scenting the wind. Blood was a distinctive odor, unmistakable in the air. Drops of rain penetrated the canopy and splattered onto the rotting vegetation. A bright green lizard raced up the trunk of the tree, the motion drawing his attention. A red splotch smeared a lacy fern embedded in the bark. Rio remained still, his gaze relentlessly sweeping the terrain searching for any movement, any sign of the intruder.
Several short barking calls signaled a herd of adult barking deer nearby. Something had disturbed them enough to cause them to sound the alarm. Rio leapt onto a low-hanging branch and gave the grunting cough of his kind to alert Franz. The enemy was wounded and on the run. There was more blood in the thick needles and leaves on the ground where the sniper had rolled, but it wasn’t ar terial blood.
