Kesh (17 page)

The snow was deep, and Kesh needed to make good time, so he kept to the recently plowed main road. The traffic was light, and if anyone had had the eyes to see his stealthy form, he was just a stray mongrel dog, a common sight in the shanty town area. Outside, the town was dark, not like Christmas Eve at all, he thought. It should be a bright, hopeful night, but as he left the somber streets behind, his earlier hope was fading, and dread began to grow again inside Kesh. The more he thought about it, the more desperate his thoughts became.

He feared his mother's vision had been right and he'd find the house burned to the ground. That would be hard enough to bear, but houses can be rebuilt. Mostly, he dreaded the possibility that Jesse or his father had been caught in the blaze, or worse, maybe both of them had. In either case, the end was unthinkable, yet he could not help but think about it.

The Madosh's road was dark and quiet. Kesh expected to meet an anxious Daisy, protecting the ruined house, Jon and Jesse Madosh, his people and pack, with furious yammering and growling. When Kesh turned the corner, he let out a shocked yelp at what he found. He had prepared himself and had more or less known what he would encounter, but seeing it was another thing altogether. He approached the smoldering ashes with caution, circling slowly to avoid the remaining hot spots.

It was simply gone, a charred pile of black ash and timbers. Kesh tried to get closer, to move in to investigate, and was rewarded with a singed nose. Gone were the photos of Jesse's mother, books, poetry, literature, and Mister Madosh's collection of duck decoys. Everything was gone.

A blackened cracked sink and what appeared to be appliances and charred, broken dishes lay where the kitchen had once been. A black toilet stood upright near the bordering trees, as if it were waiting for an occupant. The other remaining piece of the former Madosh house was the woodstove, charcoal black but still intact. Kesh felt sick at heart.

A heart that had once betrayed him now ached in a different way. He could sense the coyote slipping away and the boy emerging, standing in the deep snow, shivering in the bitter December cold, yet even the cold could not suppress the overwhelming grief that swept over him. He had tried. He had believed Muskrat and Grandmother Spider. He had believed he could be something more than a stunted twelve-year-old boy, and now he knew the truth.

He could not win against Louis Garou, and his only real friend, Jesse, was dead. Maybe a spirit can survive a fire, but a thirteen-year-old boy, even as strong as Jesse was, is flesh, blood and bone. A thirteen-year-old boy will just die.

At that moment, a howl came from the trees beyond the ashes. It was so near and so terrifying that it nearly cut through his shivering body as, succumbing to the bitter cold, he seemed unable to move or act. Another howl followed, and the wolf came out of the forest in a slow, cautious stalking gait. The creature stopped and stood immobile for a moment, first scanning the remains of the devastated Madosh house, then fixing upon the boy. Suddenly the wolf leaped effortlessly, floating over the smoldering coals and knocking the boy to the ground. In panic, Kesh found his arms and legs again and flailed at the attacker, but it was too late. He was pinned beneath the larger, stronger creature.

Then the wolf spoke. “Don't fight me boy. I'm not going to hurt you. You will freeze to death if you do not huddle close into my fur.”

Kesh knew he had little choice in the matter. Even if he had been in his coyote form, the wolf was far too big and powerful to fight, and his attacker's thick, insulating fur was bringing warmth to his limbs again. He pulled his arms and legs into a tight ball and felt his circulation returning.

“Who are you?”

The wolf's voice was sad. “For the moment, I am your blanket, your warmth. Isn't that enough?”

Kesh did not answer. He knew it was not enough. He would live for now, but he had failed. Finally, the boy gave in to exhaustion and warmth and despair, and he lost consciousness.

 

“Kesh?” The voice seemed distant and, for a moment Kesh thought he was home in his bed, dreaming. Then it came again, “Kesh?” Come on Kesh, snap out of it.” Now he was certain he was home. Why else would his dad be there talking to him?

His body shook with a great spasm, and he remembered, “There was a wolf. Where is the wolf?”

An answer found its way through the frozen night. “He's right here with us, Kesh.” When the boy came out of his stupor, there in front of him stood an enormous black cat, a sleek powerful lioness, and a wolf with one eye as black as coal and the other the color of emeralds in the sun.

The boy shook his head. “No, no. There was another wolf, the steel gray one I've seen on the path. He saved my life.”

The panther said, “Kesh, there is no other wolf, just Paul here. I mean, Officer Wolfe. You dreamed it. Now it's time to come back. You have work to do.”

“I can't, Dad. Look at me. I couldn't do anything to save Jesse and his dad. I can't do anything to save anybody.”

The lion roared at that, and Kesh jumped. When she spoke, the intensity of the voice gave no indication of the small girl behind it. “It has to be you, Kesh.”

Kesh didn't notice the change when it began, but he was suddenly lower to the ground, growing noticeably warmer until he was a coyote again.

The panther spoke, “Kesh, I love you. You're my son, but you're not the savior of the world, so stop beating yourself up over this. You can't do it all, but you do not have the right to give up. Remember, Kesh, you are not alone in this, and you just might be able to save a little piece of this world. I don't know what has happened to Jesse or Jon, but I do know it doesn't change the importance or the danger of our mission. If anything, it makes your part far more important, so, let's do what we can to save our friends. If that fails, we still might be able to save a few acres. If that fails, we'll save a neighborhood, or a block or a patch of grass. Listen, buddy, we can't just let Garou and his kind have their way. We can't just let them win.

His coyote's winter coat now protected the boy against the cold, and the three strong allies brought him hope again. He sniffed the air, but the smoldering fire and reeking chemical plant blocked any useful scents. He tried again, and this time, he caught a hint of something that made his heart drop. Slowly, afraid to find what he knew would be there, he made his way to the edge of the burnt clearing. There, tossed carelessly into the brush, was the frozen body of Daisy, the Madosh's sweet dog. She had been shot and discarded like trash.

The young coyote roared with fury, then raised his head and howled his grief into the bitter night. The call echoed into the dark, frigid sky and faded, and Kesh, the coyote, hung his head. Then a muffled answer came from the direction of the factory. Kesh's head snapped up, his body tensed, and his ears opened fully to catch the sound. He called again, and again he was answered. The response was immediate. He glanced at the three powerful creatures before him and said, “Come on. Jesse needs us.”

The coyote, the wolf, the lion, and the panther would have terrified anyone who might have seen them on the road, but it was nearly midnight on Christmas Eve, and most people were home preparing for a day of attacking brightly wrapped presents, eating their way through mounds of turkey and mashed potatoes, watching football games and television parades from far off places, and complaining about the inevitable indigestion.

Even those who did not celebrate the Christmas holiday were pretty much forced to stay in, since nothing was open anyway. So the strange group ran unseen toward the factory. Kesh cut in along a familiar trail through the trees and led the pack to the riverbank. The snow had been compacted by patrolling ATV's and passing goons, but tonight Garou's hired men were otherwise occupied, and Kesh had a pretty good idea who was taking up their time.

 

The coyote led his father and the others past the waste outlet and to the far end of the fencing where the new construction had begun. Kesh knew he was taking a chance, but once inside the compound, he stopped and called out to Jesse. The answer was instantaneous, and the four bolted for the main plant building where the holiday party had been held. Kesh called again, and a howl came from inside the building.

When the two security men standing guard outside the door saw the quartet of wild creatures bearing down on them with such fury, they ran for the highway.

It might seem hard to believe that four large quadrupeds, four vicious carnivores, could open a closed door–no opposable thumbs and all that–but these were exceptionally smart people in animal form, so getting into the building was merely difficult, not impossible. A burly man met them in the entryway. At first, his eyes grew big with the shock, but he quickly regained his composure and leveled a sawed-off shotgun in their direction.

Morgan moved with astonishing speed, rushing the man before he had a chance to pull the trigger. Before he had the time to aim or to choose a target, a broad lion's paw swatted him full force across his head, causing him to crash against the wall where he collapsed in a heap.

Kesh thought,
This guy is lucky she didn't have her claws
out, and he leaped over the limp body. “Come on! They're in the big hall!”

The four of them burst into the huge room to find a white coyote, his fur standing rigid along his spine, his ears pricked back against his skull, and a ferocious low growl coming from deep inside through bared teeth. Jesse's attention was on Louis Garou and, to Kesh's horror, a smallish tan coyote at the front of the room standing close to Garou's side.

He howled, “Kiran!”

Garou glanced at the small coyote then back to Kesh. “You see, my friends, we can do remarkable things with chemicals. Isn't that right, Kiran?” She did not react. It was as if she did not recognize Kesh and the others. Then Garou said, “Come in children.” A door swung open behind him and four small forms crept in to stand beside the man. Kesh recognized them as kids from school. Only Kiran appeared in her animal form.

Officer Wolfe spoke quietly. “We have to stop him, but we can't hurt the kids. Any ideas?”

Louis Garou laughed. “That's right. It's Wolfe, isn't it? I believe your full name is Michael Gentle Wolfe. You and the Madosh boy have a lot in common.” A low, not so gentle, growl emanated from the wolf, and Jesse studied the man-wolf with a new level of interest. Garou continued. “I must say you are an impressive menagerie of beasts, but it won't do you any good. A beast is a beast! You are all nothing but animals and you are no match for me or my science. I am proud to say my company makes poisons that have eliminated thousands of rats, cockroaches, snakes, and other vermin. What difference will a couple more make?”

Kesh was not in the mood to be added to Garou's extermination list. The man paused and laid his finger on his cheek in a thoughtful way. “You can be quite certain that you and your companions are going to have a very special experience today, a very difficult experience.” He smiled an oily smile and continued. “And there is a very good chance you will die.”

Kesh sensed the presence of his companions. He smelled the familiar odor of fear throughout the room, but mostly from the man in the front of the room. He glanced at Jesse. The white coyote stood immobile, his gaze fixed on the speaker, the muscles in his shoulder and thighs as tense as tightly wound steel springs. He would attack the instant Jesse made his move.

Garou kept talking. “And nobody will ever know what happened to you. You see, my products are also useful in getting rid of trash. Nobody will know, and before long, nobody will care.” He turned to Kiran and scratched her neck as if she were a dog. The muscles along her back rippled subtly. “Miss Curtis, please keep these creatures away from me.” Immediately, the obedient coyote hunched forward and, like Jesse, bared vicious teeth. “And you four!” Garou shouted at the children. “Do not let them through, no matter what! Protect me with your lives.”

Kesh thought the kids looked silly, even pathetic, in their comic book defensive stances, but Kiran was different. She was as fiercely terrifying as anything he had seen. His instincts took over and his fur stood up along his spine and he displayed fierce teeth. But again, something didn't seem to fit. He said, “Kiran, remember who you are. Don't do this, please. I don't want to hurt you.”

“Kesh…Kesh.” The soft whisper came from Morgan.

The coyote glanced back. “Not now, Morgan. Not now.”

“Kesh, listen to me,” said the lioness. “You're forgetting.”

“Forgetting what?”

“You're forgetting that this is Kiran. She is a coyote, and she is your friend. And you're forgetting to have faith.”

“Morgan, this is not time.”

“No, Kesh. This is just the time. You've got to have faith.”

He growled. “I wish I could.” Kesh studied the vicious animal at the front of the room. She had experienced something terrible. He understood that, and she seemed to have changed because of it. Her lip was curled back showing razor sharp teeth, and her eyes flashed wildly. Still, he thought, there was something not quite right about even this, something in her eyes. He looked closely. They were no longer clouded as they had been after her capture and ordeal. Now they were bright, clear, and disturbingly deep. Kesh thought he imagined it at first but… she winked.

As Garou backed toward the doorway, the small coyote slipped suddenly behind him and put herself between the man and his escape route. She howled victoriously as he cowered, moving into the center of the room until his back was against the gigantic table. In a flash, Jesse was on him, dragging Garou up onto and across the table by his collar. Kesh gasped at his friend's strength. Granted, he was a big coyote, but to see him handle the man so easily was impressive.