Lake Of Sins: Escape

Chapter 3

TRINITY WAS UNABLE TO TEAR HER EYES away from Mirra as the Tracker struggled in the Handler's grasp. Mirra was taller and faster, but the Handler was built like a rock, squat and solid. He was about her height but quadruple her width with long arms that almost scraped the floor. What initially looked like hair on his body were clothes made out of fur. His face was mostly concealed by a long, gray beard and mustache and his wiry, gray hair hung past his shoulders. She glanced down the passageway. Should she run or try to help Mirra? She didn't know how to fight. How much help would she be? She took a hesitant step sideways toward the exit.

The Handler gave Mirra one last squeeze and then let go, his hand gliding down her back. "Sweet, sweet, Mirra. Where have you been?" he murmured as he buried his head in the Tracker's furry neck.

She halted. They weren't fighting. They hadn't been fighting.

"Mirra home. Mirra miss you." The Tracker continued to wiggle and squirm as he petted her. "Look. Mirra find"—the Tracker turned toward her—"Little One."

The Handler stilled, leaving his hand on Mirra's back. He turned his head and his black eyes bored into her. "You've brought me dinner." He drew a large double-bladed knife from a sheath on his hip and stepped toward her.

Her heart stopped and then pounded madly. That's why Mirra didn't kill her. She was a gift. As she turned to run, she stumbled and hit the wall, falling to the floor. She struggled to stand, her nerves making her legs clumsy. He continued to approach, the knife gleaming in the firelight.

"No. No dinner." Mirra placed her paw on his arm.

He halted, but continued to stare at her. "If she's not to eat then why have you brought this"—he looked her up and down—"Producer here?"

Mirra kept her hand on his arm. "Mirra like Little One." She stomped her foot. "No eat. She mine."

He licked his lower lip and then pulled it into his mouth with his upper teeth. He bit down for a second, shaking his head. He sighed as he sat on a chair near the fire. "Mirra, we've been over this. You can't adopt stray creatures." He stared directly at her. "It doesn't work out well for them and then you're sad."

She really did not want to know what had happened to the others.

"This one different," said Mirra, a pout in her tone.

"Mirra, you promised to stop doing this," he said.

Mirra sat down on the ground next to his feet, leaning her head against his leg. "Mirra no mean catch her. Mirra follow. Mirra watch. Guards come. Mirra hide her. Now, Little One here." She smiled, showing her mouthful of sharp teeth. "Guards no happy."

"You didn't touch the Guards, did you?"

"No. Mirra wanted kill but Mirra no kill." Mirra frowned.

"Good girl." He stroked the fur on her head.

She'd been right. Something had been stalking her. All that time, the Tracker had been following her. She could have been killed at any moment and she'd had no idea.

"Why did you watch her? Why not just eat her?" He grabbed a nearby stick and began whittling.

She tensed. That was a very good question.

"Don't know." Mirra shrugged.

The Tracker expanded and contracted her claws rhythmically as she spoke. The claws were long, a lot longer than hers. She tightened her hands into fists at her sides.