The old kit fox stopped still under the sage, her tall ears shivering, her fur standing on
end as a voice bigger than thunder smacked gravel loose from the sandstone cliffs. Her sides pumped, her flanks ached.
The arrow that sliced her brain stem from her spine gave her an
instant of sweet euphoria as all pain and fear fell away.
The girl ran in a crouch, threading through the sage
as the voice pounded down the canyon again, much bigger than thunder
now and close, coming closer. The girl
laid the vixen's body on the ground belly up and stroked the last
tremors away as she said the prayer of thanks. She
unsheathed a hunting knife longer than her own foot, gutted the fox
with a few elegant lightening strokes and tossed guts and carcass
to the edge of the mesa.
The next grunt was unbearably loud, rattling the girl's ribs; the
sand shifted under her, the stiff branches of the black sage trembled. It was almost above them now. The girl scuttled back
under the thicket of sage branches she had constructed, threw a few
handfuls of the red sand over herself and waited.
The smell hit first. It was like a battlefield in summer after three
days. The girl gagged and swallowed hard.
Then she felt the sudden cool of the shadow thrown over the mesa and
the overhead throb of the Flying Head grinding its teeth. It grunted
again; the contents of her stomach spewed from her, her feet and hands struck numb from the shock.
The girl spit away vomit, craned her neck and looked up through the thorny branches.
It was bigger than a ring of tipis. Its tongue lolled out, the size of a creek, and lapped up the fox with a strange delicacy. Then
it glanced around, trailing shreds of rotting skin that danced in the air
like water weeds. Its yellowed, crusted eyes tracked the mesa,
making a wet shifting sound. The girl had recovered enough to reach
for her axe. She curled her fingers around the handle.
The Flying Head was off, faster than anything she had
ever seen. Within three breaths it was so far away that it was the
size of her hand. She stumbled up on
shaking legs.
She sighed, drinking in fresh air and blowing it out hard.
How was she going to kill that thing?
