in Danish.
She cut the engine at the entrance to the gully and waited for Josef to get off the bike before she lowered the kickstand and hopped off. They jogged cautiously forward, glancing uneasily around them as they made their way along the worn animal trail. A pissed-off hiss warned them to back off as soon as they came into view.
Relief hit her solar plexus like an explosive fist.
“Sven,” she whispered. Named after Josef’s late father, this was the first leopard they’d caught and collared. He wasn’t as aggressive or as liable to attack as Samson, but he was a fine, healthy specimen complete with requisite claws and teeth.
Josef loaded a dart, walked forward to take aim at the cat. Aside from an angry swipe of his extra-long tail, Sven seemed resigned to what happened next. Josef darted him in the rump and within a few minutes the cat was completely out of it.
Axelle strode forward and covered Sven in a sleeping bag to keep him warm while Josef worked on the collar. She released the cat’s front paw from the snare, checked for damage but there was none. She examined his other massive front paw and noted he’d lost a toe—probably to a wolf trap. Unfortunately one of the most endangered species in the world had more to worry about than losing a toe. Josef popped the collar and Axelle prepared the antidote to bring the cat around. Just as she was about to stick it into his flank, the sound of two rifle shots split the air in quick succession.
Shock ripped the air from her lungs. Distress flashed along every nerve ending and over her skin like a blast wave. It took a moment to catch her breath and swallow her anger before she stabbed the needle into Sven’s lax flank. They backed away to let the animal recover.
“Maybe he missed.” Josef’s voice was gruff.
She stared at the blue sky and cursed.
Sven clambered slowly to his feet and staggered in a circle.
“Go!” she yelled. “Go, go!” Run from this terrible place. The cat turned to growl at her before bounding away. She stalked over and reset the trap because Goran also patrolled this canyon, and Sven better have enough sense to avoid the area for the next few days.
Dammit . She rested her forehead in her palm. Josef moved closer and put his hand between her shoulder blades. She might have taken that simple comfort if she didn’t think she’d buckle under the knowledge that one of her beloved animals was probably dead or dying.
She jerked away and looked over the valley with the jagged ramparts of the Hindu Kush bearing down on them from the south. Afghanistan was locked down by violence. Even if they got a message through to the right person in Kabul, the officials there might rate the plight of the snow leopard a poor runner-up to the troubles of their people.
The enormity of the task began to seep in and overwhelm her. Why were humans so callous? What made them think they had the right to destroy something as rare and precious as a snow leopard for something as unquenchable as greed? She didn’t understand and knew she never would.
She needed to act now or the leopards could be annihilated by the end of the week. It was a race against time and she didn’t know who she was racing with or how to stop them. A fine tremor of rage vibrated through her bones.
She set the receiver on the ground and checked the other snare frequencies. The base camp was too low to catch the signals but they were more elevated here. No point heading home if another trap had been sprung. All the signals beeped slow and constant, indicating the snares were empty.
“Let’s head back to camp.”
Josef nodded.
“Then I’m going to see if I can locate the cats south of the camp.” In the direction of the gunshot.
His skin paled beneath his tan. “We’ll go together—”
“No.” She took in the commanding panorama of mountains and wanted to raise her fists in challenge. “One of us needs to be at base camp in case one of the snares gets tripped.
She cut the engine at the entrance to the gully and waited for Josef to get off the bike before she lowered the kickstand and hopped off. They jogged cautiously forward, glancing uneasily around them as they made their way along the worn animal trail. A pissed-off hiss warned them to back off as soon as they came into view.
Relief hit her solar plexus like an explosive fist.
“Sven,” she whispered. Named after Josef’s late father, this was the first leopard they’d caught and collared. He wasn’t as aggressive or as liable to attack as Samson, but he was a fine, healthy specimen complete with requisite claws and teeth.
Josef loaded a dart, walked forward to take aim at the cat. Aside from an angry swipe of his extra-long tail, Sven seemed resigned to what happened next. Josef darted him in the rump and within a few minutes the cat was completely out of it.
Axelle strode forward and covered Sven in a sleeping bag to keep him warm while Josef worked on the collar. She released the cat’s front paw from the snare, checked for damage but there was none. She examined his other massive front paw and noted he’d lost a toe—probably to a wolf trap. Unfortunately one of the most endangered species in the world had more to worry about than losing a toe. Josef popped the collar and Axelle prepared the antidote to bring the cat around. Just as she was about to stick it into his flank, the sound of two rifle shots split the air in quick succession.
Shock ripped the air from her lungs. Distress flashed along every nerve ending and over her skin like a blast wave. It took a moment to catch her breath and swallow her anger before she stabbed the needle into Sven’s lax flank. They backed away to let the animal recover.
“Maybe he missed.” Josef’s voice was gruff.
She stared at the blue sky and cursed.
Sven clambered slowly to his feet and staggered in a circle.
“Go!” she yelled. “Go, go!” Run from this terrible place. The cat turned to growl at her before bounding away. She stalked over and reset the trap because Goran also patrolled this canyon, and Sven better have enough sense to avoid the area for the next few days.
Dammit . She rested her forehead in her palm. Josef moved closer and put his hand between her shoulder blades. She might have taken that simple comfort if she didn’t think she’d buckle under the knowledge that one of her beloved animals was probably dead or dying.
She jerked away and looked over the valley with the jagged ramparts of the Hindu Kush bearing down on them from the south. Afghanistan was locked down by violence. Even if they got a message through to the right person in Kabul, the officials there might rate the plight of the snow leopard a poor runner-up to the troubles of their people.
The enormity of the task began to seep in and overwhelm her. Why were humans so callous? What made them think they had the right to destroy something as rare and precious as a snow leopard for something as unquenchable as greed? She didn’t understand and knew she never would.
She needed to act now or the leopards could be annihilated by the end of the week. It was a race against time and she didn’t know who she was racing with or how to stop them. A fine tremor of rage vibrated through her bones.
She set the receiver on the ground and checked the other snare frequencies. The base camp was too low to catch the signals but they were more elevated here. No point heading home if another trap had been sprung. All the signals beeped slow and constant, indicating the snares were empty.
“Let’s head back to camp.”
Josef nodded.
“Then I’m going to see if I can locate the cats south of the camp.” In the direction of the gunshot.
His skin paled beneath his tan. “We’ll go together—”
“No.” She took in the commanding panorama of mountains and wanted to raise her fists in challenge. “One of us needs to be at base camp in case one of the snares gets tripped.
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