Three+Shots

 Jillian Dunn Three Shots   So today I was planning to go out on our reserve and look for the new rhino calf that had been born the night before. That didn’t happen. I was on my way downstairs that morning, my stomach full of toast with raspberry jam. And I was ready for the day. I swear I almost killed myself slipping down the stairs when I heard a terrible scream from outside. The door was open and I jumped the last two steps and hurried down the driveway to where a small crowd with my family, some neighbors and our families employees who worked on the reserve. My stomach plummeted when I noticed some blood that was on the main gate into the reserve. I pushed past a couple people and moaned. Lying on the ground in the middle on the group was a large, striped animal. It was a zebra from our reserve. She had three bullet shots in her chest and most of her fur was stained red. “What happened?” I stammered to one of the employees on the ground next to her body.  “We found her this morning by the watering hole,”  I looked down at her and thought hard. //Watering hole, watering hole, watering hole.// That rang a bell. But why? Next thing I knew my mom was leading me into the house who was being led by my older brother, Richard, who was being led by my dad, Bruno. There was something fishy about this whole thing. Then it hit me. I stopped dead in the hallway. My mom ran into me.  “What is it, Renesmee?” she asked. But I extracted myself from her grasp and hurried up the stairs into my room. The one window in my room looked out onto the watering hole in our African reserve. The memory came back to me as I watched a few gazelles sip delicately from the water with their small, pink tongues. I had been really hot yesterday, so I had opened my widow and left it open during the night. Last night I had woken up when I heard the main gate being opened. I had walked up to window and pulled back the blinds. There had been someone (I guessed it was a man) walking very slowly and cautiously toward the watering hole near where the zebras slept sometimes. They were there that night. I was really groggily because it was like 2:30 in the morning. So I went back to bed. I thought it had just been an employee going out there to do some check on one of them. It all started to click now. None of the employees went out at night or in the early morning because that was when the lions were usually out prowling. That man had also been carrying something. The sinking feeling in my stomach was back. It probably was a gun.  “Esmee! Please some downstairs!” called my mom, breaking my current train of thought. They were all sitting down at the shiny kitchen table, deep in discussion.  “A poacher named Resean Milgrid probably did it,” I heard my dad say to Richard.  “Poacher?” I asked weakly sitting down next to him. “A poacher named Resean Milgrid was going to have a hearing for breaking onto others’ property and stealing or killing animals, but he escaped before then,” said mom. <span style="font-family: "Arial Narrow","sans-serif";">“But who would ever want to hurt animals?” I asked quietly. I loved animals. <span style="font-family: "Arial Narrow","sans-serif";"> “He’s an American. There, animal skins can sell for over one thousand dollars apiece,” she said. “So he came here and shot that zebra yesterday night, the police expect,” said mom, looking doubtful. <span style="font-family: "Arial Narrow","sans-serif";">“Last night? How do they know?” I asked frantically. <span style="font-family: "Arial Narrow","sans-serif";">“I dunno. Dad, do you think he’ll come back?” said Richard. His deep voice was hard as concrete. <span style="font-family: "Arial Narrow","sans-serif";"> “Maybe. But no one, even the officers, don’t think right away,” said dad. And for once in my life I didn’t think the police were right. There was a feeling deep in my gut that said he was coming back tonight. By what I had heard about him so far, it sounded like he was smart. And if he thought that the police thought that he wasn’t coming back tonight, he would come back. And I was going to stop him from killing anymore animals. <span style="font-family: "Arial Narrow","sans-serif";">I waited out my whole day devising a plan to stop this guy. He was smart and had a gun. But I was smarter, and the only problem was I didn’t have a gun. By dinner time I had a plan. I didn’t eat much of my fish and rice that night, and excused myself early for bed. When I was safely shut in my room, I put on dark sweat pants and t-shirt. My skin and hair was already dark, so that was one of my advantages. I put on my hiking boots and filled my pockets with my mini can of pepper spray, a small flashlight and a granola bar, just in case. My room wasn’t far from the ground, so I jumped down into the bush below my window with ease. When I hit the ground I stayed very still for awhile, waiting for any sign of movement. I didn’t know why I had come out this early; he probably wouldn’t come until later. Mom and dad had had the same idea as me; they turned out all the lights early. Now I was completely in the dark, on the African savannah, and on a reserve with wild animals that could rip your limbs off with one claw. My moment came about two hours after I had been crouching in my bush and my legs were all stiff and I couldn’t feel my feet. I saw a slight movement out of the corner of my eye by the garage. And a man about as tall as dad emerged, looking around cautiously. I squinted at him so that he wouldn’t be able to see the outer white part of my eyes as well. He crouched down and walked slowly around the jeep parked in the driveway. The zebra was still lying on the side of the driveway, covered in a blanket. Then I noticed something. He didn’t have his gun with him. I let out a silent gasp of relief. That would make it a lot easier on me. He moved a corner of the blanket with two fingers and peeked under. He nodded to himself and looked onto the savannah. //He not going onto the// //reserve//, I thought. //He’s only here to take the zebra//. //But how on earth was he gonna pick that thing up?// That was the right time. When he had his back to me, I slowly started to move out of the bush, toward him. He still didn’t look up. Maybe I had been wrong, that he wasn’t very smart. Because he obviously hadn’t thought about how he was gonna take the zebra. When I was about two feet away from him, I squared my shoulders and jumped. Right onto his shoulders and I pinned my arms around his neck and he fell forwards onto the ground. He hadn’t made any noise; I was strangling him, but not enough to kill him. Then I screamed. He hadn’t hurt me or anything, but I was trying to wake up my parents and the others workers on the reserve. And to my satisfaction, I saw the light turn on inside my parents’ room and inside the smaller houses on the other side of the garage where the workers lived. Three doors burst open at the same time and footsteps tore at the ground. Resean was now putting up a fight, and I was struggling to keep hold of him. But as he could barely breathe, I had the advantage. Soon he was gasping for breath, while being pinned down by my dad, Richard and John, one of the workers. Mom was holding me tight, the smell of her hair soothed me and I didn’t have to worry about anything right now. I had achieved what I wanted to do, and I could tell everyone the whole story later…