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Reconstructing the split…second mishap wasn't easy but； with some help from Master Jack Daniel； Durgess and Asa Lando would conclude that Stoat's slug must have struck the trunk of the oak at the instant Clapley's slug struck Stoat's Winchester； which more or less exploded in Stoat's arms。 At that point the lobbyist was not dead； although his right shoulder had been seriously pulped by splintered gun stock。
Asa Lando would recall looking down from the tree and seeing Stoat； hatless and dazed； struggling to his knees。 Likewise； Durgess would remember helping Robert Clapley to an identical position； so that the two hunters were facing each other like rival prairie dogs。 But the guides well knew that Stoat wasn't staring at Clapley； and Clapley wasn't staring at Stoat…both men were scanning intently for a fresh rhinoceros corpse。
〃You missed；〃 Durgess informed Clapley。
〃What？〃 Clapley's ears ringing from the gunshot。
〃Mr。 Stoat missed； too；〃 Durgess added； by way of consolation。
〃What？〃
As Durgess stood up to scout for the runaway rhino； he heard frantic shouting from high in the live oak： Asa Lando； trying to warn him。 The ground under Durgess's boots began to shake…that's what he would talk about later。
Like a damn earthquake； Asa。 Could you feel it； too？
The rhinoceros had cut back unexpectedly and now was rumbling up from behind the scattered hunting party； prey turned predator。 There was no time to flee。 Asa squawked from the tree。 Palmer Stoat spit his broken cigar and gaped。 Durgess dove for Robert Clapley but Clapley wasn't there； he was down on all fours； scrambling after his rifle。 Helplessly Durgess rolled himself into a ball and waited to be crushed。 Beneath him the earth was ing unsprung； a demonic trampoline。
Durgess felt the rhinoceros blow past like a steam lootive； wheezing and huffing。 He peeked up in time to see an outstretched black shape silhouetted briefly against the creamy pink sky； and to feel Labrador toenails scuff his forehead。 Durgess decided he was in no hurry to get up； a decision reinforced by the sound of Clapley shrieking。
The guide would remember remaining motionless until hearing a man's heavy footsteps； and feeling a shadow settle over him。 He would remember rocking up slowly； expecting to see Asa； but facing instead a bearded apparition with a gleaming grin and a molten red eye that might have been plucked from the skull of the devil himself。
〃We've e for the dog；〃 the apparition said。
While being dragged to safety； the governor lost the tender scabs on his buttocks。 By the time the bodyguards got him to the Suburban； he had bled through his khaki trousers…the word shame appearing chimerically across his ass； like stigmata。 If Willie Vasquez…Washington noticed； he didn't say so。 He and Dick Artemus were hustled into the backseat。 The FDLE agents hopped up front； locked the doors and radioed for a helicopter and ambulances。
Riding back to the lodge； the governor looked drained and shaken； his great cliff of silver hair now a tornadic nest。 He sank low in the seat。 Willie Vasquez…Washington rode ramrod…straight； a fervent amazement on his face。
〃Sweet Jesus；〃 he said。 〃Did you see that！〃
〃Willie？〃
〃Those poor fuckers。〃
〃Willie！〃
〃Yeah？〃
〃I was never here。 You were never here。〃 The governor placed a clammy hand on Willie Vasquez…Washington's knee。 〃Can we agree on that？〃
The vice chairman of the House Appropriations mittee rubbed his jaw thoughtfully。 With his other hand he touched a button on the Nikkormat； still hanging from his neck； and set off the automatic rewind。 The hum from a swarm of wasps would not have been more unsettling to Dick Artemus。
Ruefully his eyes fell on the camera。 〃You got some pictures； huh？〃
Willie Vasquez…Washington nodded。 〃A whole roll。〃
〃Color or black…and…white？〃
〃Oh； color。〃
Dick Artemus turned and stared straight ahead。 Just then； a white…tailed buck crashed out of the cabbage palms and entered the path in front of the truck。 The agent who was driving stomped the accelerator and swerved expertly around the deer。
〃Nice move！〃 Willie Vasquez…Washington cheered； bouncing in the seat。
The governor never flinched； never blinked。
〃Willie；〃 he said； wearily。
〃Yeah？〃
〃What is it you want？〃
Twilly Spree tried to go after McGuinn but he was chased down and tackled by Clinton Tyree； who whispered in his ear： 〃Let it happen； son。〃
Said it with such a startling serenity that Twilly understood； finally； what sustained the man…an indefatigable faith that Nature eventually settles all scores； sets all things straight。
So they let the dog go； then watched as the rhinoceros snorted to action。 It ran halfway up the slope before turning back toward the hunting party； which dissolved in bedlam。 Viewed from the bank of the knoll； the debacle unfolded with eerie； slow…motion inevitability…the two idiots swinging their rifles as the beleaguered rhino attempted to cut between them； a triangulated aim turning linear and deadly。 And when the shots rang out； it indeed appeared that Palmer Stoat and Robert Clapley had managed to blast one another in a brainless cross fire。
Skink and Twilly were quite surprised to see both men lever to their knees。 They were somewhat less surprised to see the rhino swing around once more； this time charging blind from behind the shooters。
Skink sucked in his breath。 〃Say good night； Gracie。〃
Clapley was groping inanely in the grass when the rhinoceros scooped him up at a full trot。 His screams carried up the slope； echoing among the caws of grumpy crows。 Like a frog on a gig； Clapley frantically tried to push himself off the rhino's horn （which at forty…nine centimeters would have been considered truly a splendid prize）。 Furiously the animal bucked its head； tossing and goring Clapley as it ran。
Ran directly at the injured Palmer Stoat； whose Winchester was in pieces and whose reflexes were in disarray。 Stoat spastically waved one pudgy arm in an attempt to intimidate the beast （which； Skink later noted； couldn't possibly have seen him anyway； not with Robert Clapley's body impaled so obtrusively on its nose）。 With McGuinn nipping at its hocks； the rhinoceros…all two and one…quarter tons of it…flattened Stoat as effortlessly as a beer truck。
Twilly and Skink waited to e down off the hill until the animal had run out of steam； and the zebra…striped Suburban carrying the governor and his bodyguards had sped away。 One of the guides remained on the ground； balled up like an armadillo。 Skink checked on him first； while Twilly went through the messy formality of examining Palmer Stoat。 The lobbyist's eyes were open； fixed somewhere infinite and unreachable。 They reminded Twilly of the glassy orbs he'd removed from Stoat's animal heads。
The exhausted rhinoceros had returned to the shade of the live oak and collapsed to its knees。 From thirty yards away； Skink and Twilly could hear the animal wheezing and see the heat rippling off its thick hide。 Across the prow…like snout hung Robert Clapley； limp and contorted。
Skink asked Twilly： 〃What's with the dog？〃
Once the armor…plated behemoth had quit playing runaway； McGuinn had grown bored and