Tiger by William Richter Page B

interest or concern than he would show for a rat caught in a trap. The fallen man looked up and squinted hard, finally able to recognize Divine.
    â€œ Oh God  . . . ”the man groaned in dread . “It was a mistake!”
    Desperate and fumbling, the man pulled his wallet from his pants pocket and flashed it open, revealing photos inside of twin girls, bright-eyed with curly dark hair, no more than seven years old. “I have a family! Tell me what to do! Anything, I swear!”
    Divine set his boot on the man’s leg wound and pressed down. The man screamed.
    â€œ Oh God  . . . ”
    â€œFew are granted such an opportunity at redemption,” said Divine to Tiger.
    Tiger looked down at the accountant, wounded and sniveling on the forest floor. He had no feelings for this man, who had made his own choices in life and would have to pay for them like anyone else. Tiger’s only regret was that his target had no fight left in him—there was no honor in killing a defenseless man.
    â€œSo?” said Divine.
    It sickened Tiger to do the man’s bidding in this way, but the accountant would die, regardless, and Divine’s way would almost certainly be slower and more painful. Tiger raised his gun and fired three shots into the wounded man, two to the chest and one between his eyes, sparing him a slow torturous death.

11 .
    WALLY WOKE TO THE CRACKLING SOUND OF THE FIRE, stoked with new logs and warming the big room. She peeled the wool blankets off herself and sat up, feeling thick in the head the way she usually did when she overslept. Kyle was gone from his sofa, his blankets folded into a pile with his pillow on top. The sound of a whistling teapot came from the kitchen.
    â€œKyle?”
    He appeared, looking relaxed and upbeat as he set a cup of coffee down in front of her.
    â€œSomehow I’ve become your coffee bitch,” he said.
    â€œI’m feeling a little groggy. What time is it?”
    â€œAlmost ten. It’s easy to sleep late here. It’s so quiet, and the morning light hits the other side of the lodge.”
    They ate instant apple-cinnamon oatmeal for breakfast, Wally slowly waking up with the help of the strong coffee.
    â€œI have an idea about a hike,” he said. “There’s a rocky point where I used to swim. It’s really nice.”
    â€œA hike?”
    â€œNot too far. It’s the best time of year for it—too early for the bugs to be out. They’re like kamikazes once summer comes.”
    He watched her with a hopeful look. His expression held a subtle sense of urgency that Wally picked up on. His anxiousness about going into his father’s den and beginning the search for his birth mother had obviously carried over from last night.
    â€œWe’re procrastinating, right?” she asked.
    â€œPretty much,” he admitted.
    â€œOkay. A hike sounds good.”

    They took a game trail through the woods that surrounded the lake. As she followed him along the path, it became clear to her—again—that she was witnessing Kyle in his natural element. The tortured guy she’d met in the city had given way to someone who was comfortable in his surroundings, navigating his way along the circuitous route as if he’d been born to it.
    A full half hour passed before Kyle spoke.
    â€œIs Tiger a person or an animal?” he asked.
    Wally stopped in her tracks, taken aback.
    â€œWhat do you mean?”
    Kyle stopped and turned back to her. “In your sleep. You said something about Tiger. Like it was a name, not a thing.”
    â€œTiger is my brother,” she told him.
    Another rule broken. Caseworkers at the Society were instructed not to share details about their personal lives with clients. She had violated the guidelines by allowing Kyle into her well-defended life, and now all the walls were coming down. Wally felt a little uneasy about it, but Kyle had trusted her with so many