The Deathless Quadrilogy

by Chris Fox

  Blair turned from the hills, flowing down switchbacks along a steep ravine. He began circling back to the west, toward home.

  I know, he thought back. I intend to. I’ve been dodging this for a long time, but that time has passed.

  He leapt over a boulder, tongue lolling from his mouth as he sprinted through the snow. This was incredible. Dozens of dogs yipped and barked in his wake, sniffing at plants or marking territory. Yukon stayed even with Blair, loping along in wide strides.

  Blair was silent, sniffing at the air with his powerful nostrils. He considered Yukon’s words, and knew they were true. He needed to take up the reins of the pack, and to start rebuilding northern California. The war with the Builders was coming, and there were likely other threats out there, too. Windigo, at the very least, though Liz and Alicia had left in search of him.

  Even now Blair could feel Liz somewhere to the northwest. She was tired, but happy.

  So how do I start leading? Is there something official I need to do, some sort of shaping?

  Yukon cocked his head, giving Blair a confused look. You lead.

  Blair realized the problem. He was looking at this from his background as a junior college teacher. He was considering psychology and anthropology and culture, and a whole bunch of other factors that only clouded the issue. To a dog—or a wolf—there was only action.

  If he wanted to lead this pack, then he didn’t need to think about it. He needed to do it. Action was what he needed. So Blair acted.

  He turned north to parallel the Sierras, diving off another rock and sprinting down the trail. Blair called to the packmind, to every last mongrel within a dozen miles. Run. Run fast and free. We hunt for survivors. We are their champions.

  The pack responded with an outcry of joy, leaping eagerly down the hill after Blair. Their minds reveled at the connection, at the shared extension of their senses. In that moment, Blair finally understood what the Great Pack was. He understood why the Mother had created that pack, and the role it had filled during the previous cycle.

  Such things cannot be explained, Ka-Dun. They must be experienced, his beast rumbled. It was clearly pleased. Taking up this mantle makes all who share the pack greater. It makes us whole. You are that which bonds the pack together, and without you it will always be incomplete.

  Blair continued to run, reaching out experimentally to the packmind. Sharing this much of himself was difficult, especially since every time he’d ever lowered his guard he’d regretted it. Yet here the intermingling felt right.

  To his surprise Blair felt other minds, not just dogs. Other champions ran with the pack, each the leader of a smaller pack. They had acknowledged his authority, glorying in the connection just as their canine companions did.

  On and on they ran, fanning out through the trees as they began to climb in elevation. If they continued along this path it would bring them to Lake Tahoe eventually. Blair had no way of knowing how fast they were moving, but he’d have guessed twenty-five miles an hour for most of the pack. That shouldn’t be possible for a normal dog.

  They are not normal, Ka-Dun. You are shaping them, even without realizing it. When they are near you, they grow stronger—faster. This is an ability you can consciously control. You can make your pack much greater than it is now, a skill we will need for the battles to come.

  That was an interesting revelation, one that made a great deal of sense. Somehow the Mother had shaped Yukon in exactly that way. He was at least three times as large as he’d been when she first discovered him, and had learned to shift to human form. Isis had somehow re-written his genetic code, and so far as Blair could tell she’d done it without the aid of an Ark. The virus she’d crafted, the one that had made him what he was, must have contained that same ability. He just needed to learn to use it.

  Flee. Flee. Do not go to the high places, a frantic fox’s mind called from the hillside above. It shared images of a massive bear slaughtering a pack of coyotes while the frightened fox hid in a patch of snow.

  Blair pulled up short, sending up a spray of white. Yukon paused next to Blair, studying him with those large brown eyes, waiting to see how Blair would handle this.

  Should he investigate further? Deal with this Great Bear? He glanced at the scars on Yukon’s right flank, where the Bear’s claws had swiped him. Yukon was strong, stronger than many Ka-Dun. This Bear was not to be trifled with.

  Join us. You are safe. We are many, Blair thought back to the fox. He knew the rest of the packmind was listening, just as Yukon was. We will lead you to our home, in the valleys where the sun sets. There are no bears there, and you will be safe.

  I do not believe so, mighty one, the fox thought back. Soon we will reach the end of the trees, and the notdeads will catch us.

  We will protect you, from the bears and the notdeads, Blair thought back. He could feel the fox’s skepticism, but there was hope there, too. The fox came closer, creeping toward their pack. A moment later, a small vixen darted after, following her mate.

  Blair continued north. They would find other survivors, swelling the pack.

  42

  Hunting

  Liz filled her water bottle from the Russian River, though the trickle of water could hardly be considered a river. That was alarming. Droughts had been a problem her entire life, but they’d gotten worse in the years leading up to the end of the world. She’d always assumed that was due to mankind’s hand in climate change, as the research overwhelmingly supported that conclusion.

  In the five years she’d been gone the situation hadn’t improved, despite mankind no longer producing the vast clouds of CO2 they’d been belching out for two centuries. Perhaps the damage was already too severe, or maybe mankind hadn’t been as responsible as they’d assumed. Whatever the reason, California’s climate was definitely changing.

  “Have you set up rain catchment systems?” she called to Alicia. It was the first time they’d spoken in over an hour.

  The teen sat on a rock a few dozen paces away. She was staring down the hillside they’d just climbed, down at the pine forests bordering Sonoma County. A rippling sea of green covered the horizon to the north, extending over higher and higher hills as it approached Mendocino County.

  She blinked at Liz. “What do you mean?”

  “As our population grows, water is going to become more and more of an issue,” Liz explained. She picked up her pack, sliding the straps over her shoulders. “We should start building cisterns. Every family should have one. You line the roof of their houses with tarps, and those tarps funnel rain water into big drums. My parents used to do that, and it would give them four or five thousand gallons a year.”

  “We don’t really have water problems, though. There are plenty of streams, and we’ve got water filters from the local REI to use on stagnant ponds. Enough to last a few years, I’d imagine.” Alicia hopped down from the rock. She picked up her pack, which was about half the size of Liz’s.

  “By the time we know there’s a water problem, it will be too late. Droughts can last years, and the more water we have the more insulated we are.”

  They started back to the road, following Highway 101 toward the summit of yet another pass. Patchy clouds had clustered there, and Liz suspected they’d run into rain before the end of the day.

  “I’ll order it as soon as we get back,” Alicia said. “It shouldn’t be too hard, and it seems like a smart move.” She quickened her pace and fell into step next to Liz. “I, uh, I wanted to say sorry. For being so rude when you and Blair got back.”

  “You don’t have anything to apologize for.” Liz tightened the pack’s strap across her chest, distributing the weight a little more evenly. “We left, and didn’t come back. You have every right to be angry. The things you accomplished…it’s amazing, Alicia. I couldn’t be more proud.”

  “Still, I’m sorry,” Alicia said. She wouldn’t look at Liz. “I’m finally starting to believe you guys might stick around, and that’s a good thing because we nee
d you. What Blair did in San Francisco…I’ve never seen anything like that. The way he handled those deathless, it was like they were children. He destroyed an entire roomful of their strongest leaders. It’s just crazy, you know?”

  “I know.” Liz couldn’t help but smile. “Blair is really coming into his own. He’s a pretty amazing guy, and he will always do the right thing. In this case that means staying to protect everything you’ve built. Blair said he was going to do that, and he’s as good as his word. So am I. We’ve been through a lot, and it’s time to rebuild. Blair’s position as Ark Lord gives us a lot of resources to do that.”

  “Do you really think we can get rid of Windigo?” Alicia asked. She brushed a lock of hair from her face, but the wind immediately blew it back. It made her look younger, a willowy young woman not far removed from a gangly pre-teen. But it did nothing to diminish the hardness in her eyes, a sobering look no one that young should ever wear.

  “Honestly? I don’t know.” Liz continued up the hill.

  The road finally leveled off as they crested the summit. They picked their way past a rusting gas station and a McDonald’s.

  “I don’t really understand what he is,” Liz said. “I’ve heard of the Wendigo, but everything I know comes from an episode or two of Supernatural.”

  I can enlighten you, Ka-Ken, Wepwawet rumbled in her mind. Windigo was known, even across the ocean. He predates the Mother’s arrival in these lands. The tales I have heard suggest he predates mankind. We do not know where he comes from, only that he devours his prey and has an insatiable appetite. We believed him to be some sort of spirit.

  Alicia spoke on the heels of Wepwawet. “There has to be a way to stop him. After seeing what Blair can do, I believe that. We’ll catch him, and after that we’ll finally have some peace. I can’t even imagine what that will be like.”

  She wore her hope plainly, and that scared Liz. That same hope left her vulnerable to disappointment.

  “Neither can I,” Liz said. She tightened her baseball cap to keep the wind from prying it off. “There always seems to be another threat, but you know what? We’ve dealt with them all, and we’ll deal with this, too.”

  They continued up the road, descending into the first valley. It would take days to explore it all, but if Windigo was out there they were going to find him.

  43

  The Great Pack

  Blair closed his eyes, reaching out to the packmind. He swelled the boundaries, pushing them further than he’d yet tried. He called to every Ka-Dun within forty miles, inviting them to join him at the SRJC campus in downtown Santa Rosa—Santa Rosa Junior College, his employer once upon a time.

  Answers chorused back as a veritable army of dogs escorted their Ka-Dun. They trickled in, clustering around the eternal oak tree he’d been waiting under. The tree stood in the center of a grassy field bordering half a dozen large, brick buildings, and had been there for as long as students had been attending SRJC.

  Blair hadn’t chosen this place based purely on nostalgia. SRJC had been one of the finest junior colleges in the nation, and the campus was comprised of sturdy brick buildings. They were a little weathered, but still in great repair. The apartment buildings around the campus hadn’t fared as well, but that could be fixed easily enough.

  “What do you intend to do, Ka-Dun?” Yukon asked. Today he was in human form, but he lay casually in the grass just like a dog. That fascinated the anthropologist in Blair. Yukon was a dog who’d become a man, and Blair was a man who could become a dog—or a wolf, anyway. Their origins changed their perceptions in so many ways.

  “I’m going to do what you asked. I’m going to lead.” Blair knelt next to the oak, picking up one of the scarlet leaves that had accumulated beneath the mighty giant. It crunched in his hand. “We have many champions, but from what I can see everyone is their own little island. We don’t work together very much, outside those few pairs who’ve mated.”

  Leaves whirled in a sudden wind as John Rivers blurred up to them. A few moments later another Ka-Dun appeared, then another. Over the next minute and a half Blair counted nineteen arrivals. Most stood away from each other, respectful but distant. A few chatted with each other or exchanged friendly smiles, but there was definitely a distance between them, an aloofness.

  Blair waited until the crowd had swelled as large as he thought it might. He walked slowly to the base of the ancient oak, then turned to face the sea of placid canine faces turned in his direction. Many of the champions were in wolf form, though John Rivers and a few others stood as men.

  “Thank you all for coming, and coming so quickly,” Blair began. He gestured expansively, taking them all in. “Each of you leads your own pack, some large and some small. You vary in power, and in knowledge. Yet we all share the same goal. We protect. We ensure a future for both humanity and for the Great Pack. This legacy was given to us by a woman who taught me much, a woman most of you know as the Mother.”

  Awed whispers filled the packmind, but many of the Ka-Dun stared at him impassively. They had heard what he’d done in San Francisco, but these warriors were proud. They were used to being the ones with the power. Having someone like him breeze in and demonstrate an Ark Lord’s power couldn’t have been easy, and Blair knew that if he was going to gain their support he’d have to first earn their respect.

  “I chose this place as a meeting spot because of what it represents: a place of higher learning.” He paused, letting his eyes roam across the assembled faces. They were curious now, even the hostile ones. “Isis made the Ka-Ken our warriors, which makes us the scholars. It falls on us to learn everything we can about shaping, and to share that knowledge freely. We will need those skills in the coming days. Shaping can do nearly anything, and I’ve seen some incredible innovations. I’m sure you all have, too.”

  A fiery-haired kid in his twenties stepped from the line, and walked straight up to Blair. He looked a bit like a young Trevor. “So that’s it, then? You walk up like you own the world and we’re just supposed to sit at the feet of the master like good little puppies? I don’t fucking think so. Why should we listen to you? Because you control a big rock in the middle of the bay? Why don’t you go back there and lord over your deathless buddies?”

  Blair’s beast gave a low, deep growl. You cannot allow his impudence, or your standing in the pack will suffer, Ka-Dun.

  Blair took a step closer to the young champion. The kid was easily two inches taller than Blair, so Blair had to stare up at him. That position might be reversed in warform, but that wouldn’t instill the lesson Blair needed to impart here. He needed cooperation, not obedience inspired by fear. These people needed to learn to trust him. At the same time, he couldn’t allow them to perceive him as weak.

  “What’s your name?” Blair asked. He kept his tone even, expressing no emotion.

  “Zee. Everyone else here already knows that, because we’re a family.” He poked Blair in the chest with a finger, hard. “You’re a stranger. We don’t know you. We don’t need you.”

  “Zee, since you know everyone here, who would you say the best shaper is? The one with the best control over his pack?” Blair asked. He already knew what he thought the answer was.

  “John Rivers is the strongest shaper,” Zee said warily. “His dogs are bigger and stronger than the rest of ours, and he’s got more of them. Why?”

  “Because I didn’t call you here to sit at my feet like I’m some sort of guru,” Blair said. He poked Zee hard in the chest, just like the kid had done to him. “I called us here to learn together. I’m not very good at shaping animals. I have almost no experience doing it. So I intend to study under John Rivers, because he can teach me to be a better shaper. Many of us have our own specialties. I have a friend who is incredible at telekinesis. It’s a talent, and I’m sure everyone here has something they’re talented in.”

  “And just what are you talented in?” Zee asked. He leaned in, looming over Blair as he balled his fists.

  “S
peed.” Blair blurred, punching Zee in the gut. The blow launched Zee across the grass, all the way into the side of a building fifty yards away. The brick cracked with impact, and Zee slumped to the ground. Blair blurred next to Zee’s battered form, standing over him.

  The kid glared up at him, one hand snapping his broken arm back into place. “You think that impresses me? So what if you’re faster? You’re just a bully.”

  “Let me be very clear, Zee,” Blair said, dropping into a crouch. He spoke loudly enough that the rest of the Ka-Dun could hear. “Every last one of us has a responsibility. We must protect our packs. The best way to do that is if we come together as one, if we become the Great Pack—one united whole that exists to achieve a singular purpose: to keep our people alive. If we want to do that, we need to be strong and wise enough to deal with any threat. Trust me when I say those threats are coming, and our only hope of overcoming them is learning to work together.”

  “I stand with Blair,” John Rivers yelled. Many of the Ka-Dun turned to face the older man. “We’ve kept this place alive over the past few years, but only just. We’ve taken a lot of casualties. If we don’t want to take more, then we need to get better. We need to learn to work together. Clearly Blair has a lot to teach us. He’s learned directly from the Mother, and he’s got control of an entire Ark. We’d be idiots not to learn everything he can teach us. Are you an idiot, Zee?”

  Zee glared back, trapped by the question. “You don’t have any cause to make fun of me, John Rivers,” he said. He rose to his feet, dusting himself off. “I’m not an idiot. No one here is. But it isn’t smart to blindly trust this guy. We don’t know him.”

  “We know that he stopped the deathless,” John said. “We know that his Ka-Ken is helping to hunt Windigo. We know that Blair is strong enough to keep this place safe, and that the Mother trusted him.” He walked over to stand next to Blair, wrapping an arm around Blair’s shoulder. “I consider Blair a friend, and am proud to have him in the packmind. I know you all haven’t spent time with him yet, but I urge you to come at this with an open mind. Blair can help us if we let him—help us build something lasting, so our children have a place to call their own. So what do you say, Zee?”