AllFreeNovel
Share Us
Then she noticed it wore a backpack, with an ax strapped to its side.
Okay, now I know this has to be a prank, she told herself.
But she couldn’t help thinking that if it wasn’t a prank, then evidence of an honest-to-God living sabertooth cat would make her career.
Her heart was pounding like a drum, and her hands were shaking. It was impossible not to geek out about the possible rediscovery of a species thought extinct for thousands of years.
She had a momentary daydream of appearing on Animal Planet’s Extinct or Alive? Or writing a best-selling book. Heck, she already knew what the title would be: Alive and Snarling: The Return of the Sabertooth.
Calm down, she chided herself. First, you need to prove that this is for real, and not some elaborate hoax.
So far, she hadn’t seen any human activity on her trail cams. Bearpaw Springs National Park was popular with tourists from June through September. But very few people visited it in the winter months, which made it an ideal location for her study.
The fall weather had been so nice, though, it might have tempted some bored locals to come out to the park one last time.
Another thought occurred to her.
If that sabertooth is a fake, then it’s a Hollywood-quality fake. Maybe someone’s shooting a movie in the park.
If so, they certainly hadn’t gotten the proper permits for commercial filming. Because if they had, Holly’s boss at Idaho Fish and Game would have notified her about any film crews in the area.
She watched the footage yet again. The cat appeared to be walking toward a Douglas fir grove on the far side of the meadow, where Holly had posted another trail cam. The footage was time-stamped 08:30 this morning.
A popular hiking trail wound through the grove before dipping down to the valley floor and its collection of hot springs. From there, it looped back up the mountainside to the Bearpaw Springs Resort historic hotel, located just outside the park’s entrance, ten miles away.
If the sabertooth footage was the work of pranksters, then maybe trail cam #8 had caught them coming up the trail this morning with their props and cameras.
And if it wasn’t a fake, then perhaps she could find physical evidence of the cat in the grove or on the muddy path. Paw prints would be nice. Scat or a fur sample caught in tree bark would be even better. DNA analysis could then prove or disprove the trail cam footage.
When I was a kid, I thought being a wildlife biologist was all about capturing and tagging animals while on safari. No one told me I’d be spending most of my time collecting and analyzing poop samples, she thought wryly.
Holly shut the lid on her laptop, closed the umbrella, and set off across the meadow in the same direction that the sabertooth—or fake sabertooth—was heading this morning.
She fought sucking mud each step of the way, and patted herself on the back for remembering to wear her waterproof hunting boots. They reached up nearly to her knees, and were advertised as snake-proof.
By the time she reached the row of chokecherry bushes bordering the tree line, her leg muscles were burning and her shoulders aching fiercely with the weight of her large waterproof backpack.
Holly paused under the shelter of a large fir. I’ll be coming back this way after checking trail cam #8 in the grove, so why carry my pack several hundred yards more than I have to?
She closed her laptop, shrugged out of the pack, and let it drop to the ground. The relief was instant.
Holly leaned her pack against the trunk of the nearest tree. Then she dug in the bulging side-pocket for a specimen jar and a pair of bright purple nitrile gloves before heading off to survey the border of the meadow and the tree line.
If I was a sabertooth cat crossing the meadow from over there… She looked up and marked the position of trail cam #7. Then where would I enter the forest on this side of the clearing?
She walked slowly back and forth, pushing aside low branches, bushes, and slender saplings. As she did so, she scanned the ground intently, keeping an eye out for pawprints, fresh poop, or hair samples.
“Ooh! Score!” she couldn’t help exclaiming when she spotted a tuft of pale golden fur caught on a bare twig at shoulder-level.
The height reminded her of how large the cat had appeared on the trail cam.
Holly marched over to an enormous chokecherry bush, which was ninety percent leafless but still laden with ripe but wrinkled fruit. Excitement jolted through her as she opened her specimen jar and pulled on the nitrile gloves.
She stepped onto the mass of fallen yellow leaves under the chokecherry’s skeletal branches.
Then something grabbed Holly’s lower leg with incredible force. Her calf instantly went numb. She staggered sideways, and something brought her up short.
Then her leg collapsed beneath her. She went down on her knees in the wet grass.
