Wolf Stalker (5 page)

Ashley grabbed his arm and looked at him with eyes brimming with wonder. Her smile lit her whole face. “We're so lucky!” she whispered.

“Yeah.” He whispered, too, and smiled back at her, knowing how right she was. For that magic moment they were lucky, to stand in the stillness of the wilderness, listening to wolf song the way few people were ever privileged to hear it.

The sun set behind the mountain, and almost unbelievably soon, they found themselves in a gray, dusky world where a rock might be an animal, or a lost boy. Or where a tree might be a man with a gun.

How were they ever going to follow Troy's tracks now, Jack wondered. As he hesitated, the answer reached him—in fact, it fell on him. First one snowflake, then a dozen, then enough gentle flakes to make the faintest skiff of white on the ground, and to glisten in Ashley's dark hair.

“Pull your hood up,” he told her. “We have to move really fast while this twilight lasts so we can follow Troy's footprints in the snow.”

It worked for a little while. Forging ahead, they did discover Troy's footprints, and were able to track them along a twisting trail, over bare rock and through brush and trees.

Then darkness fell completely.

E
ven a candle would have given more light than the two-and-a-half-inch, squeeze-till-it-lights-up flashlight that was meant to hang from a key chain and target a door lock at night. But that was all they had. On the snow-dusted forest floor, its feeble light got swallowed like a firefly inside a whale.

“I wish we had a real flashlight,” Ashley said. “That one sure is little.”

“Better than nothing,” Jack told her. At least it let him avoid any low branches that might have smacked him in the face, or any big rocks he might have tripped over.

Troy's footprints were harder to see. Although the snow was falling only lightly, it had begun to fill in the tracks left by Troy and the wolf. Any blood drops were now totally impossible to find. And Jack was getting cold and hungry.

“We're gonna have to give it up,” he sighed.

“Why? Are you tired?”

“Who, me? No—I was worried about you.” Turning around, he shone the flashlight right into her face, but it was such a puny little light that she didn't even blink. “There's no way we can find our way back the way we came, but we don't need to,” he said. “If we just keep walking down the mountain, we'll get to Slough Creek sooner or later. Then we can follow the creek to the parking lot and someone will be there to take us to park headquarters. They've probably got a whole rescue squad out by now.”

Ashley sat down on a fallen tree and leaned her crossed arms on her knees. “That's good for us. But what about Troy?”

“What about him? We tried. We did our best, but it didn't work. He'll be OK. The biggest problem for Troy is that it's going to get really cold here tonight—”

“And we have our parkas, but Troy only has that jacket of his,” she said. “He's going to freeze. And I bet he doesn't know that if he goes down the hill he'll get to Slough Creek, 'cause he doesn't know squat about wilderness. Which means we've got to find him.”

“What do you think we've been trying to do? What else is there?”

“We'll yell,” she announced.

“Ashley, he'll never hear.”

“He will if we yell loud enough. TROY! TROY! Where are you? Can you hear me?”

In the cold, crisp air, sound traveled much more clearly than they would have expected. Although there was no telling how far away it might be, Jack and Ashley heard a faint, “Yeah, I hear you.”

Ashley scrambled to her feet. “KEEP YELLING, TROY! Come on,” she said to Jack, “he's up the hill that way.”

“No, wait a second,” Jack argued. “I think the sound's coming from the other way.”

“Hey, Troy!” Ashley called. “Say something again!” Without waiting for Jack, she fought through brush to climb a steep incline. “Holler something, Troy!”

The answering call sounded a little closer. “SHUT UP!”

Ashley laughed. “That's Troy, all right.”

She climbed in a nearly straight line. If a tree got in her way, she circled around it, and then got right back onto her arrow-straight path, jumping over fallen branches, kicking aside rocks, pushing through ground cover. How could she be so sure where she was headed, Jack wondered—in the dark, and even after Troy stopped answering their calls?

He shook his head in amazement, when, within 15 minutes, she'd found him.

Troy was hunched over the wolf's unmoving body, his hands hovering above it as though he could press some of his own life into the wolf by sheer will. Scarcely visible in the dim light from Jack's little flashlight, blood oozed through the wolf's thick, silver fur, melting into the earth.

“Wait—Troy—get away from him!” Jack cried. “You don't know anything about wild animals. He'll bite your hand off!”

The wolf's yellow eyes fluttered open, then closed, like butterfly wings.

“He won't hurt me,” Troy muttered. “He knows I want to help.”

“Yeah, right,” Jack answered. “That's just what he'll say to himself when he crunches down on your arm. You can't help the wolf, Troy. The only thing we can do for him is go back right now and tell people where he is. They'll come get him first thing in the morning.”

“In the morning he'll be dead,” Troy said.

“Nuh-UH!” Ashley shook her head vehemently.

Jack thought the chances of the wolf lasting through the night were pretty slim, but he had to get Troy out of there.

“He'll make it,” Jack said. “He's got a radio collar on. The rangers'll follow the signal and….”

“Shine your light here,” Troy said, pointing to the rectangular box at the bottom of the wolf's collar, the part that held the batteries.

“Yeah?” Jack peered more closely. “What?”

“Just look. See that?” The battery pack was shattered as if something inside it had exploded.

“What happened to it?”

“Some jerk shot it,” Troy said. “A piece of the bullet's still jammed inside there—you can see it.”

“I don't get it. If it tore up the collar, how can he be bleeding from his side?” Jack asked. It didn't make sense. “I mean, it couldn't have hit him in his left side and then gone around the front to smash into the collar, could it?”

“No. I've seen gunshot wounds before,” Troy said. “The torn place in his side's from a bullet. One hit there, and another one got the collar.”

“But there was only one shot,” Ashley insisted. “Right, Jack? You heard it same as me. It was so loud we couldn't have missed it if there'd been a second one.”

“Don't worry about it now,” Jack said. “We need to get moving. Come on, Troy. It's late, and it's going to be a long hike down to the creek.”

For a moment Troy didn't answer. Then he said, “If the wolf dies, I don't want him to die alone. I'm staying.”

“Are you crazy? What good will that do?” Jack started to protest, but Ashley pulled on his hand to quiet him as Troy knelt closer to the wolf.

The big animal really did appear near death. Its mouth opened, letting the tongue loll out as if the wolf needed more air, yet its chest barely moved. Speaking very softly, Troy said, “He's scared. I want to be here for him.”

“It would be hard to find our way in the dark, Jack,” Ashley murmured.

Jack must have been getting tired, or maybe even colder, because his brain stopped working normally: suddenly everything Troy and Ashley were saying seemed not only reasonable, but…the only right thing to do. “Okay,” he sighed. “We'll stay here.”

Troy just grunted, “Up to you.”

“So the first thing we need,” Jack decided, “is a fire. Not just to stay warm. Everyone will be out looking for us—if they spot a fire, they'll get here quicker. You go pick up some firewood, Ashley,” he ordered. “Get plenty, and make sure it's dry. Go on—what are you waiting for? Go do it right now while I find a good place to build the fire.”

“Did you bring matches?” Ashley asked.

“What do you think?”

“Of course. 'Cause you're so perfect, aren't you, Jack?”

“What's that supposed to mean?” Jack demanded.

“Nothing. Just that you're the bossiest brother in the whole state of Wyoming, that's all. Don't you ever get tired of telling people what to do?”

He choked off the next words he would have added if Troy hadn't been there: that he took charge because he was better than anyone else at getting things done. Especially in the situation they were in right then. “I'm not bossy,” he told Ashley. “I'm…responsible.”

“Responsible. That's supposed to be good, huh?” Ashley picked up a long, thin pine branch and cracked it hard over her bent leg, breaking it in two. “So if it's so great, why don't you ever give anyone else a chance to be responsible?”

“Okay!” he yelled. “I'll give you a chance. What do you want to be responsible for?”

Ashley appeared to be thinking it over.

“We need some dry tinder to start the fire,” she answered. “I'll go find it.”

“That's what I told you in the first place!”

“But now…I'm telling myself.” Head high, she walked off, leaving Jack muttering.

The forest was damp, but Ashley knew what to do. She felt along the base of a tree where pine needles had piled up around the trunk; in spite of the thin layer of snow, the ones underneath were still dry.

“Bring me the light, OK?” she called to Jack. While Jack used brush to clear a patch of ground, Ashley hunted for a fallen tree. When she found one, she shone the light inside the hollow, dried-out trunk to make sure no sharp-toothed rodents or unfriendly snakes were in residence. All was clear, so she reached in to pull out loose bits of splintered dry wood.

While Jack lit the pine needles and wood bits, Ashley pulled bark and twigs from the dry underside of the fallen tree, then picked up larger branches that had broken off when the tree fell, probably years before. Within ten minutes they had a small, bright fire. Once it was going, Jack and Ashley fed larger branches into it, before dragging rocks into a circle around the blaze.

“Leave that end open,” Jack instructed Ashley. “I want the heat to reach out toward the wolf.”

“Bossy,” Ashley said under her breath, but she did what Jack told her.

Although Troy hung over the wolf and mostly just kept staring at it, from time to time he shot sideways glances at Jack and Ashley, listening to their verbal sparring and watching them work on the fire.

Now, silence hung over them, except for the crackling of the fire. The quietness pressed down like the few lazy flakes of snow that had just about stopped falling. Ashley felt it too, because she got over being mad and started to chatter the way she always did when conversation stopped too long to suit her.

“You built an Indian fire, Jack, not a white-man's fire. An Indian cooks his food, but a white man cooks himself.” She'd heard their parents say that on almost every camping trip.

“Food!” Jack said. “I forgot I have half a box of those Ritz peanut-butter crackers in my backpack. I'm starving!”

“Me, too,” Ashley agreed. When Jack produced the box she reached inside it, pulled out a cracker, and munched greedily.

Walking over to where Troy crouched, Jack said, “You want some?”

“Sure. OK.” Troy held out his hand, and Jack put a few crackers into his upraised palm. As their hands touched, Jack realized how cold Troy's felt.

“Are your shoes still wet?” he asked.

“Yeah. It doesn't matter,” Troy answered with his mouth full.

“Sure it does! Take them off, and your socks, too, and dry them by the fire. I mean, if you want to. I have an extra pair of socks in my backpack.”

“You're a regular Boy Scout, right?” Troy said. “Like, be prepared—you know?”

That was halfway between a compliment and a put-down, but Jack didn't care. “Yeah, actually, I am,” he answered. He tossed the socks to Troy, who caught them with one hand.

“Jack's working on Eagle Scout,” Ashley bragged. “But the reason he has the socks is because Mom always makes us carry an extra pair in our camping packs.” Suddenly, Ashley's voice wavered and her shoulders slumped. “I wonder where Mom is. Shouldn't they be coming down off the mountain by now? I wish they'd find us, Jack. It's kind of scary up here.”

Jack put his arm around her and said, “It'll be OK. Nothing bad's going to happen to us.” Awkwardly, he patted her shoulder through the padding of her down-filled parka.

Troy watched, no longer stealing glances but staring straight at them. He seemed puzzled by the way they acted with one another. Jack guessed that for an only kid like Troy, it must be confusing to hear a brother and sister argue half the time and then see them hug like they cared about each other. Which they did. As Troy struggled to pull on the dry socks, he seemed to be working his way a little closer to the fire, inch by inch.

Suddenly, Ashley stiffened. “What was that!” she demanded, sitting up straight.

“What?”

“That thing that was moving around in those trees. Over there!”

“Where?” Jack squinted.

He held up his hand to shield his eyes from the fire until his sight could adjust to the darkness, but he didn't see anything. The earlier fears stabbed him again, of the man who'd shot the wolf and of his powerful rifle. “Troy,” Jack said quietly, “come with me to check it out, OK?”

“No. It's just trees.”

“But I saw it. There was a black shape moving around over that way,” Ashley insisted, pointing. She didn't take her eyes off the patch of forest directly in front of them.

Troy just shook his head.

“If my sister says she saw something, then she saw something,” Jack told Troy. “At least you could help me look.”

“You're the man with the light. You go check it out.”

So that was how it was still going to be. No matter how many chances Jack gave him, Troy always ended up being a jerk.

“Want me to go with you, Jack?” Ashley asked.

“No, you stay here.” No use both of us getting killed, he added silently. Acting a lot braver than he felt, he squeezed the pitifully small light and moved toward the trees Ashley had pointed to. He heard a sound like the whisper of a breeze. Maybe Troy was right, and it was only tree limbs rustling. But that didn't stop the pulse from pounding in Jack's neck.

Behind him, Ashley's voice was cautious. “Can you see anything?”

“Not yet.” Peering into the inky blackness, he took another step. Branches cracked underneath his feet but beyond that sound, he thought he heard the faintest scratching in the darkness. Then, once again, stillness.

“What is it?” she asked, louder this time.

Jack shook his head. “It could have been shadows from the fire,” he answered, hoping he was right. “Whatever it was, it's gone now.”

“Told you,” Troy sneered.