The rifle let out a sharp pfft. The pink-feathered dart slammed into Agni’s hindquarters. The tiger gave a weak, reflexive kick, his head lifting an inch from the dirt before slamming back down into the leaves. “Move! We have less than twenty minutes before the heat stresses his heart,” Shrestha shouted, waving the rangers forward. Moving a 400-pound apex predator through dense, muddy jungle terrain is a logistical impossibility.
By the time the team winched Agni onto the flatbed, the sky had turned a bruising shade of purple. A sudden, violent monsoon downpour broke over the canopy, turning the dirt tracks into treacherous slices of red clay. The truck couldn’t make it back to the main clinic. They had to pivot. The team backed the vehicle under a dilapidated wooden patrol outpost, stringing up heavy, blue tarpaulins to shield the open bed from the driving rain.