Katie woke and stared at the rafters before reality returned to her. She was at Jeremy's home. Neil was sleeping in the haybarn. And Clark had promised a future together. She wondered if life would have had the same outcome if she had never gone to the city or if her absence had helped both of them realize what they truly wanted. Maybe something good would come out of her captivity. And at least Neil was free. His parents would have gone on tricking him for the rest of his life if they hadn't decided to trick her.

She smelled bacon and grinned to herself. How much had changed. Maybe the promise of familiar food would lure Neil into the house at least for an hour. Katie shoved back the blankets, dressed back into her city dress, and padded down the steps barefoot.

The sun was up, but the sky was still turning from gold to blue. At least the pigs were far from the house and the wind blew the smell toward the neighbor's farm. And anyway, she wouldn't be here much longer. She'd be living in a cabin in the woods, hopefully with water bubbling up to gather her friends around.

"Neil!" she called, stepping into the doorway.

There was no reply, but Neil was a hard sleeper, so she didn't panic until she reached the top of the ladder and only found an empty indent in the blanket. She stepped down the rings and circled the barn to the pig pens where Jeremey was mixing the rainwater into buckets of corn.

"Jeremy, have you seen Neil?"

Jeremy stood, then thumbed toward the woods. "He left at sunup, headed toward the river."

"What? Why didn't you stop him?"

"He's a grown man," Jeremy said. "Why should I? He's just exploring."

"He's never been out of the house!" Katie cried.

"And he thinks I'm going to lock him inside of mine," Jeremey said. "If he wants to leave my yard, and I try to stop him, what do you think is going to happen?"

"He doesn't know anything about exploring! He's going to step in a trap!"

Jeremy shook his head. "No, I showed where the trail was and told him to be sure and stay on it so he could find his way back. He'll be all right."

"I'm gonna find him," Katie said. "Breakfast is ready anyway."

"Better put on some shoes."

"Trust me. Bare feet are better than the shoes I have."

"Better get some good ones from town."

"I will after I find Neil."

And a job so she could pay her brother-in-law back for the new sets of clothes. She stepped carefully, but the path was well-worn, and she made good time following it to the river. She'd envisioned every scenario that could have gone wrong: days with search parties trying to find Neil if he'd wandered off, finding him with a foot caught up in a trap, surely he wouldn't try to eat anything, right?

But at the end of the path, she found him sitting beside the river and he'd even had the good sense to sit on a log instead of the red clay at the base of the cliffs. He rose and spun toward her as she stepped onto the path.

Terror brushed his face before he grinned and motioned her toward him.

"Neil, you sca—"

"Shh!" Neil held his finger to his lip.

She glanced around but saw nothing, so she walked until she was closer to him. "What?"

Half his mouth lifted in the sudden smile that one wears when they stumble on a fellow countryman in a foreign country He lifted his hand, pointing upward behind her.

She swiveled, scanning the cliff until red clay met blue sky. Then on a lower ledge, not twenty feet away, she glimpsed a flash of movement. Tawny fur outlined a feline shape against the rocks, smooth flesh blocking out the rough crevices.

The golden eyes of a young mountain lion locked onto hers. The animal pulled its ears against his head, carefully placing each paw in front of the other, taking slow, measured steps toward them. She opened her mouth to shout. Her dehydrated vocal cords clashed, squeaked, choked. The creature locked its eyes onto her. Stepped into the dried clay.

She stumbled backward. Crashed into Neil’s chest. Felt his arms catch her. He stepped, dragging her, back, back, back. His shoe hit her heel. She felt him tilt. Landed on his chest, felt his breath slam against the back of her neck.

She rolled off his chest onto her stomach. Pushed herself halfway up. Paws hit her shoulders. Her arms collapsed. Her face slammed into the ground. A rock pressed into her cheek. Weight crushed out her breath. Teeth grazed her neck.

The weight lifted suddenly. She stumbled to her feet. Her hand went to her neck, squishing warm blood against her skin. She spun.

Neil was on his side, squeezing the creature’s neck. He straddled its back, his top leg squeezing the creature's ribs, his bottom trapped beneath its weight. The mountain lion turned its head toward Neil, snapping his teeth near his face.

A scream found its way past Katie's dry cords, ripping into the air. She grabbed a branch, slammed it across the creature’s snout. The branch busted, sending a shower of bark into Neil’s face.

The claws flailed, the mountain lion swiping the air. Neil clung on, grunting between growls.

“Hey!” A second, more primitive yell rang from the trees. A gun exploded.

Neil jumped and the cat bucked, pulling free from Neil's legs. Their bodies broke apart, creating a V as the creature tried to back out of his chokehold.

A bearded man, slid down the slope of the cliff and positioned himself next to Katie, leveling his pistol at the pair on the ground. His finger tightened on the trigger, but his eyebrows twisted in concentration as he aimed his barrel toward the two heads. His hair was dark, he had a beard, his eyes were hooded beneath the brim of his hat. But she recognized that hat. She knew that pistol.

“Clark!” Katie sputtered, now that she could see him in the daylight.

He swung the barrel high, fired again into the air.

The animal twisted above Neil, sliding free of his grasp. It ran toward the cliffs leaving Neil pawing air, then shielding his face.

Clark swung the pistol, following the animal's flight, waiting until the mountain lion was three feet from Neil.

A second explosion jerked the animal’s head to one side. His face went down first, hitting the dirt, dragging the nose beneath his chest, then falling into a heap.

Clark sent a third bullet into the creature, gaining no reaction from the animal. Then he lowered the gun, swinging toward her. “Katie?”

Neil pushed himself up, resting on one leg then twisted away from them, eyes trained on the tufts of fur that rustled in the wind. Then slowly turned blinking toward Clark and his gun.

She grabbed Clarks arm, panicking, forming a frantic refrain. “Clark . . . ”

Clark pulled the cow horn from his belt and offered it to her. “Katie, what happened to your hair? Who is that?”

She drank. The water was warm but washed down her throat, attempting a detour to her lungs and leaving her coughing.

Neil stood slowly.

Clark released her, leveling his barrel at Neil, barking, “Who are you?”

“Stop!” Katie sputtered. “Stop, Clark, he’s a friend.”

But Neil stood with both fists clenched, heaving deep breaths, moving a glare from Clark to the dead animal nearby. His eyes held a primitive glint.

“Neil?” Katie asked. She took a sidestep away from Clark, talking like she would to a spooked horse. “This is my friend, Clark Blackwell. You remember Clark. I told you about him.”

Neil’s eyebrow twitched once, but hers tucked as she tried to remember exactly what she’d told him, for most of the time she’d omitted Clark from the picture she’d painted of home.

“Clark, this is Neil,” Katie said. “He’s the only reason I’m back. He helped me escape. He's never seen a gun."

“What? Who is this?”

“Clark, put down the gun. Please."

Katie took three steps forward toward Neil, reaching toward him. “It’s okay, Neil. That lion was going to eat you.”

Neil's chest heaved harder with each breath.

“He only shot it because he had to. He’s not going to shoot us. Clark, put the gun down!”

Neil growled. He held his hand toward Katie.

She listened for the shifting of metal, but all she heard was Clark’s voice. “Katie, come back."

Neil stood with his fists clenched and chest heaving. His eyes slit, his face contorted with pain, fear, and full-on hatred.

"Clark, please. He's just scared. He's used to being hurt. I promised him no one would hurt him here.”

He’s like an animal, Katie!” Clark said.

“He’s not an animal!” Katie snapped. “He doesn’t understand our world!”

Neil winced, turning a surprised look toward her.

Finally, she heard the click of Clark’s hammer being slowly maneuvered into a neutral position. "Can he understand us?"

"Yeah. They hurt his throat so . . . it's hard for him to talk. Neil, this is my best friend. He's not going to hurt us."

Neil winced. Turned his full attention to her face, his stare turned into a series of blinks.

If Clark was looking for signs of humanity, the next five seconds showed them all: the glaze of confusion, slump of betrayal, and lines of hurt finely etched into to every crevice of burned skin.