Chapter NineIt was Reynolds, the farmer. He snapped the shotgun closed as he came up to her. Jenny was peering over the side of the cliff. All she could see were the waves, way below, crashing against the rocks. “You saw it then?”
She looked up at him and shook her head, “No. I heard your shot. What was it?”
He shrugged. “Dunno. I've been waiting for it. Patience, that's the answer. And patience has paid off.” He joined her, looking towards the surf. “We won't be seeing it again.”
“I wouldn't be too sure.”
He was going to ask her what she meant, but when he looked around it was to see Jenny breaking into a run, sprinting towards a little outcrop of rocks.
It was lying there, its breathing very shallow, a guttural snarl coming from deep within it. But it was alive. Reynolds came up, an
