Jared and Peter walked the remainder of the torn refuge, tugging up fences here and there, locking up cats when they could. The loose lynx who had surprised the paramedic was Winken. He trailed along behind them, meowing his distress until Peter opened an empty cage and he strolled right inside. “If only they’re all this easy to catch,” Peter said.
“I hope,” Jared said.
By noon, they had surveyed the entire place: missing were over a dozen lynxes and six cougars, ten cats were dead, another dozen were injured, including sad Tasha. She lay pinned beneath a pine tree, panting and growling. They pulled the tree off of her gently and Peter shook his head. “She doesn’t look good, Jared.”
“Let’s get Dr. Stint in here right away. We’re gonna need his help,” Jared said. Jared’s brain started to
