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He was sure that he was not the cause of the abrupt silence。 His passage through the canyon had not previously disturbed either birds or cicadas。
Something was out there。 An intruder of which the ordinary forest creatures clearly did not approve。
He took a deep breath and held it again； straining to hear the slightest movement in the woods。 This time he detected the rustle of brush； a snapping twig； the soft crunch of dry leaves…and the unnervingly peculiar； heavy； ragged breathing of something big。 It sounded about forty feet away； but he could not pinpoint its location。
At his side； the retriever had gone rigid。 Its floppy ears were slightly pricked； straining forward。
The unknown adversary's raspy breathing was so creepy…whether because of the echo effect of the forest and canyon； or because it was just creepy to begin with…that Travis quickly took off his backpack； unsnapped the flap； and withdrew the loaded 。38。
The dog stared at the gun。 Travis had the weird feeling that the animal knew what the revolver was…and approved of the weapon。
Wondering if the thing in the woods was a man； Travis called out： 〃Who's there？ e on out where I can see you。〃
The hoarse breathing in the brush was now underlaid with a thick menacing gnarl。 The eerie guttural resonance electrified Travis。 His heart beat even harder； and he went as rigid as the retriever beside him。 For interminable ticking seconds； he could not understand why the noise itself had sent such a powerful current of fear through him。 Then he realized that what frightened him was the noise's ambiguity： the beast's growl was definitely that of an animal 。 。 。 yet there was also an indescribable quality that bespoke intelligence； a tone and modulation almost like the sound that an enraged man might make。 The more he listened； the more Travis decided it was neither strictly an animal nor human sound。 But if neither 。 。 。 then what the hell was it？
He saw the high brush stirring。 Straight ahead。 Something was ing toward him。
〃Stop；〃 he said sharply。 〃No closer。〃
It kept ing。
Now just thirty feet away。
Moving slower than it had been。 A bit wary perhaps。 But closing in nevertheless。
The golden retriever began to growl threateningly； again warning off the creature that stalked them。 But tremors were visible in its flanks； and its head shook。 Though it was challenging the thing in the brush； it was profoundly frightened of a confrontation。
The dog's fear unnerved Travis。 Retrievers were renowned for boldness and courage。 They were bred to be the panions of hunters； and were frequently used in dangerous rescue operations。 What peril or foe could provoke such dread in a strong； proud dog like this？
The thing in the brush continued toward them； hardly more than twenty feet away now。
Though he had as yet seen nothing extraordinary； he was filled with superstitious terror； a perception of indefinable but uncanny presences。 He kept telling himself he had chanced upon a cougar； just a cougar； that was probably more frightened than he was。 But the icy prickling that began at the base of his spine and extended up across his scalp now intensified。 His hand was so slick with sweat that he was afraid the gun would slip out of his grasp。
Fifteen feet。
Travis pointed the 。38 in the air and squeezed off a single warning shot。 The blast crashed through the forest and echoed down the long canyon。
The retriever did not even flinch； but the thing in the brush immediately turned away from them and ran north； upslope； toward the canyon rim。 Travis could not see it； but he could clearly mark its swift progress by the waist…high weeds and bushes that shook and parted under its assault。
For a second or two； he was relieved because he thought he had frightened it off。 Then he saw it was not actually running away。 It was heading north…northwest on a curve that would bring it to the deer trail above them。 Travis sensed that the creature was trying to cut them off and force them to go out of the canyon by the lower route； where it would have more and better opportunities to attack。 He did not understand how he knew such a thing； just that he did know it。
His primordial survival instinct drove him into action without the need to think about each move he made； he automatically did what was required。 He had not felt that animal surety since he had seen military action almost a decade ago。
Trying to keep his eye on the telltale tremble of the brush to his right； abandoning his backpack and keeping only the gun； Travis raced up the steep trail； and the retriever ran behind him。 Fast as he was； however； he was not fast enough to overtake the unknown enemy。 When he realized that it was going to reach the path well above him； he fired another warning shot； which did not startle or deflect the adversary this time。 He fired twice into the brush itself； toward the indications of movement； not caring if it was a man out
there； and that worked。 He did not believe he hit the stalker； but he scared it at last； and it turned away。
He kept running。 He was eager to reach the canyon rim； where the trees were thin along the ridge top； where the brush was sparse； and where a brighter fall of sunlight did not permit concealing shadows。
When he arrived at the crest a couple of minutes later； he was badly winded。 The muscles of his calves and thighs were hot with pain。 His heart thumped so hard in his chest that he would not have been surprised to hear the echo of it bouncing off another ridge and ing back to him across the canyon。
This was where he had paused to eat some Oreos。 The rattlesnake； which earlier had been sunning on a large flat rock； was gone。
The golden retriever had followed Travis。 It stood beside him； panting； peering down the slope they had just ascended。
Slightly dizzy； wanting to sit and rest but aware that he was still in danger of an unknown variety； Travis looked down the deer trail； too； and scanned what underbrush he could see。 If the stalker remained in pursuit of them； it was being more circumspect； climbing the slopes without disturbing the weeds and bushes。
The retriever whined and tugged once at Travis's pants leg。 It scurried across the top of the narrow ridge to a declivity by which they could make their way down into the next canyon。 Clearly； the dog believed they were not out of danger and ought to keep moving。
Travis shared that conviction。 His atavistic fear…and the reliance on instinct that it invoked…sent him hurrying after the dog； over the far side of the ridge； into another tree…filled canyon。
2
Vincent Nasco had been waiting in the dark garage for hours。 He did not look as if he would be good at waiting。 He was big…over two hundred pounds； six…three； muscular…and he always seemed to be so full of energy that he might burst at any moment。 His broad face was placid； usually as expressionless as the face of a cow。 But his green eyes flashed with vitality； with an edgy nervous watchfulness…and with a strange hunger that was like something you expected to see in the eyes of a wild animal； some jungle cat； but never in the eyes of a man。 Like a cat； in spite of his tremendous energy； he was patient。 He