“Bwana, eyes!” Makali yells, pointing to the right edge of the lights.

(“Everyone, roll down your windows enough for a shot. Benjamin, be ready.”) 

Miles turns on the headlights and slowly moves us toward the barn door. The bloody drag marks are clearly visible entering the barn door and then moving off to the right, into the darkness. Miles points, but the trail for us to follow is obvious. As the Rover clears the door, Miles begins a slow right turn. As we turn, the sweeping headlights illuminate the path for our eyes. The trail of blood is not yet visible. Slowly. Slowly. The silence is shattered by close, blood curdling roar.

“Bwana, eyes!” Makali yells, pointing to the right edge of the lights.

From ten yards, I see the glow of four, no, six eyes from the shadows. Miles turns the wheel sharply to the right bringing the lions into the light and throws on the brakes. Instantly it is clear that whatever (or whoever – I’m guessing, her Robert) was dragged into the barn is not alive. The remains of the victim lay before us in at least three or four pieces. I hear the back left door open. Two quick shots by Benjamin with the dart rifle. He slams the door closed.

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