Far away, but real.
Human.
The hunters.
The jaguar’s body transformed instantly. The strange curiosity vanished. The stillness around it became something harder, flatter, more dangerous. It moved off Ricardo’s chest without hurry, circled once, and positioned itself between the ceiba tree and the direction of the approaching sound.
Its tail flicked low.
Its head lifted.
And then, from somewhere deep inside that great body, came a sound so low and powerful that Ricardo felt it through the trunk at his back before he fully heard it.
A warning.
Not loud.
Worse.
The kind that did not need volume to be understood.
The voices in the brush stopped.
For a moment, even the insects seemed to go quiet.
Then one of the hunters laughed nervously from somewhere beyond the leaves.
“Did you hear that?”
Another voice answered, more tense. “Forget it. Let’s keep moving.”
“No, man,” the first one said. “The idiot’s radio might still be there.”
Ricardo’s heart slammed harder.
Continued on the next page
