Page 128 of Not Your Ordinary Shifter

BOOM

I blink and the river side that has been my primary focus for weeks, once again fills my sight. With my awareness comes my rage. This is a protected zone. Which means guns are not allowed at all.

Securing my gear and promising my tripod and bag that I will return to them, I make my way in a sort of gimpy stomp-run towards the sounds of men and where the shots came from. Thanks to my life experiences, I don’t fear guns one bit. Or death.

Maybe that’s not always a smart thing, but it’s where I am in life.

Besides, the rage has taken the front seat here.

I spot three males chatting and gesturing around, but only one of them seems to have a rifle. When the sounds filter in, I pick up on Spanish words, but I am sadly not fluent enough—or patient enough—for this conversation to be anything more than English. Alright Tiff, you got this. Just be calm and collected, but stern and…

“Hey, you fucking idiots!” Great start. Way to be civil. I continue stomping until I am nearly nose-to-nose with the asshole holding the rifle. “What the fuck are you doing here? This area is protected!” None of the men have moved and the one in front of me simply blinks. I raise my finger and poke him in the chest. “That means… no… guns!”

You know that moment when you pick up the phone before you actually dial a number in, and it’s just the monotone sound of a dial tone? Yeah, pretty sure these asshole's brains all had the same sound going.

Oh shit. What if there is a language barrier? What if they really don’t speak English? Quick, Tiff. Think of something.

A lightbulb goes off in my head and I cling tightly to it. I wave my arms around to gesture to the area we are in, “animales protegidos. No hay armas aquí.” Ha! Take that Senora Sequinta and your stupid C+

The guy tilts his head like a curious puppy and my confidence deflates a little. Did I use the wrong words? I could have sworn…

“This is not a gun.” The man in front of me speaks in a heavy accent but with studied annunciation. I look down at the rifle he is holding up and back at his face.

“Do I look stupid to you?”

“Apologies, Senorita. I meant it is not a gun with bullets. These are tranquilizer darts.” He opens the chamber on the weapon where bullets usually sit and shows me the needled dart with a bright pink tufted end. Hmm…

“We did not mean to startle you, and I hope we did not interrupt your work,” he gestures to the camera positioned on my chest. “There is a capybara that was injured. We are trying to help him, but it would seem his friend is having none of that.”

He turns and points at a rather large capybara with a clear leg injury. In front of the animal is an alligator that is glaring at the men and growling, with three darts hanging out of his hide. I’mnot even sure if the darts are equipped to penetrate his type of skin, but one thing is glaringly clear.

This alligator is actually protecting his capybara friend.

Chapter

Two

“Well, that is really… that’s not normal, is it umm…”

Well, shit. I never even said who I was, why the hell would he have given me his name?

He shoves out a hand and jumps right into an introduction. “Luis Martínez. I work for the preserve, well mostly with Sofia the veterinarian. She is my wife. And these two are my little brothers Juan and Carlos. They are training as Guardabosque.” With the proclamation that the two men are training as… well, essentially park rangers for such a large nature preserve, both men puff their chests out a tiny bit.

I smile and grasp Luis’s hand in mine. “Tiffany Adler. Freelance nature photographer. It’s nice to meet you all.”

Luis shakes my hand and returns my smile, before releasing it to gesture to the grumpy alligator and capybara. “No, this is not completely normal. Usually, the alligators will leave the capybara alone and the same the other way. They are not enemies or food for each other, but are not really friends either.And I did not bring anything for the alligator since this was not what we thought would happen at all.”

As if in response to what Luis is saying, the gator hisses and growls, taking a single step closer. In response, the four of us take a step back. The capybara shuffles and whimpers, pulling my attention.

He is sitting on his haunches, with one back leg extended. Except the leg is about twice the size of the other one and is bent in a way that leads me to think it’s probably broken. Damn. He definitely needs help.

Looking back at the alligator, I notice that his attention is now fully focused on me. Maybe I can keep his attention long enough for the men to grab his friend?

I crouch down but make no move to get closer. Rule number one of nature photography; observe and admire, but do not interfere. Besides, I have no interest in losing an arm today, and this guy looks pretty chompy.

The gator continues his low growl but makes no moves to interject when the three guys start to slowly shift to one side. Instead, he seems completely entranced by my watching him. He blinks his eyes slowly—one at a time—and with each, I swear I see a shimmer of emerald green dance across his irises. How peculiar. Maybe I should take a picture? It is what I am here for after all.

Reaching down, I manage to maintain eye contact, but as soon as I bring the camera to my face, the whole world shifts. Or rather I do.

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