Chapter 8: The Tipping Point
The sound of the breaking branch echoed through the air like a gunshot, sharp and immediate. The mother leopard’s body tensed, her muscles coiling with the sudden tension. Catherine could feel the change in the air, the instant shift from stillness to readiness. Her heart raced as she held her breath, not daring to move.
The mother leopard turned her head sharply, her golden eyes flashing with fury. For a heartbeat, there was nothing but the heavy silence between them, as if the entire world had frozen. Then, in one swift, fluid motion, the leopard’s body moved, her attention fully diverted to the sound in the woods.
Catherine’s stomach dropped. She wasn’t sure if the mother had noticed the poachers yet, but her reaction said it all. The leopard wasn’t just watching the cub now. She was preparing to fight.
The cub stirred, its small body twitching, ears flicking nervously. But it stayed rooted in place, sensing its mother’s unease. Catherine had no time to process the growing danger; everything was happening too fast. She glanced frantically from the cub to the underbrush, where the poachers were now unmistakably drawing near.
She had to act. Now.
Catherine quickly made up her mind. She needed to draw attention away from the cub, to create a distraction that might buy them time. The rangers were still on their way, but they were too far to help. The poachers would be on them any second.
She reached for the small shovel resting against the doorframe. It was all she had—nothing substantial, nothing that could truly fight off the threat she was facing, but it was better than nothing. With trembling hands, she flung the door open, just wide enough for the shovel to slip through. Without thinking, she tossed it into the yard, hoping the noise would carry far enough to get the attention of the poachers. It clattered against the fence and tumbled to the ground with a loud crash.
For a moment, nothing happened. Then, a rustle from the trees—closer this time. The poachers were nearing the edge of the property, their movements deliberate, as if they had known exactly where to go. One of them broke through the brush, a figure emerging from the shadows, tall and menacing. He didn’t seem to notice Catherine at first. His attention was on the cub, just a few feet away.
The mother leopard reacted instantly. She was on the move, her sleek body a blur of muscle and power. She lunged forward, her growl a deep, bone-chilling sound. The poacher froze, caught off guard by the sudden attack.
Catherine’s pulse quickened. The danger was now front and center—and it was only just beginning.
The other poacher was still hidden in the shadows, but the moment of confrontation had arrived. The question now was: how much time did she have before it was too late?