The Turn Series Box Set

by Andrew Clawson

  “Stay close, boy.”

  After stepping into his boots, Reed headed for the rear entrance and slipped into the night’s cool embrace. There were no spotlights on this side of his home, only a gravel path off the porch which he avoided, leaping gently for the grassy area just beyond. Doc didn’t need to be told to follow suit. The gun went into Reed’s pocket with a spare magazine.

  A quick check found nothing out of place around his cabin, so Reed stayed in the shadows and checked the mess hall and storage sheds. As he looped around the compound’s far side, the email message from home came back to him. If only his mother could see him now, creeping around like someone who needed a tinfoil hat, looking for enemies in every corner. She’d tell him he was crazy for coming to Africa, for starting his business there with a perfectly good one back home that his father dreamed of passing on to him. Even though he’d never follow that predestined path, right now it would be hard to argue with her.

  Nobody by his cabin, and no one near the mess hall. That left one section of the grounds to check, several unoccupied guesthouses and the garage. After that, he was going back to sleep and shutting the damn window. Reed stayed light on his feet and reached the corner of the camp garage, pausing as the wind kicked up and dust blew into his eyes. Blinking fiercely, he rubbed each one with the palm of his hand to wipe away the tears.

  Doc pressed against Reed’s leg, bristling as he prevented his master from taking another step. Doc didn’t bark, but his tail went up and one paw lifted off the ground. Reed’s heart accelerated: Doc had picked up a scent straight ahead. Reed dropped to one knee and pulled Doc beside him to lean against the building.

  There. A shape moved beneath the gray sky. A shape too black to be a shadow as it floated toward him, onto the spotlight’s edge. Gravel crunched as it melted from the night and formed into something Reed knew well. A man holding a rifle.

  Reed’s pistol came up and centered on the man. Two steps closer to Reed, the intruder abruptly changed course and moved back, away from the spotlight and back into the darkness. Too late, though. Reed and Doc both had the scent. The man circled around the spotlight’s glare, again headed toward Reed, unaware a pistol now followed his every move. Reed tightened his finger on the trigger and closed one eye. Trespassers armed with automatic rifles on his property didn’t get warnings.

  When Reed flicked the safety off, the man stopped moving and raised one hand. Had the guy heard him? What was this guy doing? He kept the hand up, backlit now by the moon, and pointed toward Reed.

  Noise came from behind him – rustling noises, like another intruder moving carelessly over grass and gravel. This man also carried a rifle in both hands as he signaled back to his companion. Signals understood by hunters and military men the world over. One of the intruders would go right while the other went left. If they kept moving, their path would end at Reed’s cabin, where five minutes ago he had been asleep.

  Doc remained against Reed’s leg, his tail now parallel to the ground as his eyes tracked the intruders. Both followed parallel paths on a direct line for Reed’s front door, with each step bringing them closer together. Their proximity made them easier targets for Reed, but the farther away the two moved, the more likely it was that he would miss. Then there were those automatic rifles to consider. These two weren’t wild creatures who would be frightened away by gunshots. A miss here meant bullets coming his way.

  Warm air filled his lungs, once and then again. Take a breath. Be smarter than them. What to do now? He could call the police and hope the intruders didn’t encounter any of his employees in the next half hour before the cops arrived. Putting lives in danger was a non-starter, so scratch that. Reed could open fire, take out one man and hope to take out the other. If he didn’t, well, that wouldn’t be good. Also a no go. Same for doing nothing, which would leave his men vulnerable. A sense of calm settled over him. The decision made itself, really. Take the fight to these guys. They had come looking for trouble; he would give it to them.

  Moonlight glinted off one of their rifles and Reed’s heart pounded. Nobody said it would be easy. You’re a hunter, so do what you do best. Hunt them.

  He took a breath and stilled himself. Good hunters didn’t charge in. They stalked. Reed whispered in Doc’s ear before setting out after the men, always staying on the grass, his footsteps silent. As he crept through the night the intruders drew closer together, and soon they were only ten feet apart, standing in front of his cabin, clutching their rifles. Reed waited as they argued in silence about who would move first.

  What idiots, he thought, biting back a laugh. Neither would give in, though eventually the far intruder moved ahead and slung the rifle over his back. Exactly what Reed needed. Shoot the closest intruder, and while the other one fumbled for his gun, take him down. Professionals didn’t argue about who went first, and they sure didn’t come through the front door. Chances are they’d never shot anyone in their lives. When bullets flew, these two amateurs would crumble.

  Reed lifted his pistol, thumbing the safety off. He closed one eye, and green light washed over the face of the intruder approaching Reed’s door. The guy actually had his cell phone out. So much for his night vision. When he put the phone away and motioned to his companion, he was blinking so hard Reed could practically hear it. The guy couldn’t see much after that, but still he pointed to the cabin and moved ahead. The one closest to Reed nodded and stepped back, making Reed’s shot easier. When Reed went down to one knee and took aim, Doc flattened by his side, back legs coiling like springs under heavy pressure, ready to burst forward. Wood creaked as the intruder stepped on the front porch, and it kept creaking until he reached for the door.

  Reed’s muzzle flash lit the night as he shot the closest man twice before jumping deeper into the darkness. Wild shots peppered the area where Reed had been seconds ago. The guy must have seen his barrel flash. With all this noise the rest of the camp would be up quickly and coming to investigate, he knew, even though it meant racing into a hail of bullets coming from the darkness – that is, if their boss couldn’t handle these two lowlife thugs on his own.

  Doc crouched low as Reed fired at the second gunman, ready to spring forward and finish the job. Each shot sent another plume of fire from Reed’s barrel, momentarily stealing his night vision. When the white dots faded from his eyes, his breath caught. Where a body should have been there was nothing but grass.

  “Damn.” Reed hit the ground and crawled forward. No need to present an easy target. Doc raced ahead, stopping with his nose inches from the ground and waiting until Reed came up.

  “Good boy,” he said. Reed ran a hand across the dusty grass and it came back wet. “I winged him. Now we find him.” But he didn’t set the dog loose. Reed ran point on all his missions, not someone else – not even Doc. He wasn’t sending Doc in blind to take a bullet. “Stay tight, boy.”

  The porch edge to his left ended ten feet ahead. No other buildings were close enough to offer shelter, so unless the guy had burrowed into the ground like a gopher, that darkened corner was Reed’s next stop. Before he moved, Reed glanced back and saw a light come on in the cabin across the compound. Only a minute before his men would be out here and in harm’s way.

  Reed whistled softly and tapped Doc’s rear twice, the signal to stay at Reed’s side. Cool grass brushed his chest as Reed crawled toward the porch corner, pulling himself along until his head poked around enough to see what waited on the other side. A shadow stood out against the darkness, what could have been a man moving alongside the cabin toward where a small shed stood with a dark spotlight on the roof. Dark because Reed had disabled the damn thing, which shined directly through his bedroom window. It would have been useful now, with only shadows and suspicions to go on.

  And things were definitely happening behind him. Indistinct noises came on the night breeze from the lit cabin, warning that things could get ugly if he didn’t move fast. Creeping along his cabin’s side wall, Reed quickened his pace toward t
he shadow, which grew longer as it floated toward the shed. Reed blinked, and a green glow came to life ahead of him. The cell phone again, this time lighting up the intruder’s face.

  Gotcha.

  Reed stood and raised his pistol. As he took aim, the barrel extended inches beyond the edge of his cabin wall and glinted dully in the night. He dropped lower, but now a tree branch covered the intruder’s movements. Reed stepped forward, air wicking against his face as he stepped beyond the cabin wall and into view.

  A silent, furry missile smashed into his side and knocked him to the dirt. His gun went off, and across the grass a muzzle flashed. Bullets thumped into the ground by his face, dirt and dust clogging his nose. Where had those come from?

  A man screamed and Doc’s throaty growl punctuated the desperate cries. Fur and flesh twirled in a bone-crunching dance as Doc latched on to yet another intruder’s arm. Gunshots came from beside the shed, and Reed was showered with shards of glass as the bullets blew out his cabin window, not two feet from his face.

  Reed twisted, went up on one knee, and fired twice toward the shed, putting the intruder down. Across from him Doc had brought the third man to his knees. Gaining his feet, Reed ran toward them and had his weapon up when a flash of steel made his blood run cold. The man held a knife, aimed straight at Doc’s chest.

  Reed dove toward the screaming, growling mess of dog and human. Doc never let go of the man’s arm, never reacted to the knife as it flashed down. He only twisted and ripped, doing what he’d been trained to do, and it saved his life. One of those twists took him out of the knife’s path, the blade whizzing harmlessly past his fur to bury itself in the dirt. Fully airborne, Reed aimed and squeezed the trigger. The final intruder crumpled in a heap.

  Reed shouted, and Doc dropped the dead man’s arm. When several Kimble Safaris employees rushed across the yard seconds later they found their boss bear-hugging his canine companion with one eye on the darkness, his pistol at the ready.

  Chapter 9

  Zurich, Switzerland

  May 22nd

  Sweat coated Sarah’s body as she bolted upright in bed, lungs heaving and a scream in her throat. The gnashing fangs and razor claws were only a dream. She wasn’t back at the zoo running for her life, but safe in bed at the research facility. She and the surviving scientists had made it back to the laboratory and were sleeping the fitful sleep of people whose lives had nearly ended hours earlier. Never had she stared death in the face, a growling nightmare come to life, eager to rip her apart. Her head found the sweat-soaked pillow once more, but ten minutes later, after tossing and turning uneasily, she threw the covers off and sat up. No way she could get back to sleep now, not with her mind racing like this. Cool air encircled her bare legs as she swung her feet to the floor and stood up. Only one thing could put her mind at ease now: getting back to work.

  A hot shower and an even hotter cup of coffee later, Sarah walked into the lab, the familiar astringent scent of a germ-free workspace doing wonders for her mood. The genome-editing research she’d been sent here to continue waited on the table, though Sarah scarcely glanced at it as she walked past. A more pressing problem had her attention now. Through another set of doors, she followed signs to a different area of the lab, one equipped to handle dissections. Not an ideal setting for genetic research, but perfect for a veterinarian with a mystery to solve.

  Her nose wrinkled as she approached one of the stainless steel tables. Even industrial-strength cleaners couldn’t completely remove the pungent scent of two massive wolf carcasses. Sarah donned gloves and walked over to the table where the first wolf lay stretched out as though it were sleeping. She touched the light brown fur, which glowed with a golden hue under the stark white light. Its tongue lolled from between two rows of elongated teeth, the gleaming canines on top and bottom extending well beyond the others. Too far, in fact. She put her finger alongside one of the teeth, which stretched from her fingertip to her middle knuckle. Easily half again as large as other wolf canines she’d seen.

  Sarah had requested the wolf corpses be delivered to their facility. Her argument that the science laboratory had more than adequate equipment to handle a necropsy hadn’t carried much weight, but her position as a veterinary researcher had. Coupled with the late hour and the fact the zoo veterinarian had never seen wolves like these before, she’d managed to convince the authorities to do it. City officials would arrive later this morning to claim the bodies, so for now, she needed to get to work. Steam wafted from her coffee mug as Sarah lifted a window blind. Scarcely morning, the sun nudging into view. The rest of her team was fast asleep, along with the staff. How did the old saying go? It’s easier to beg forgiveness than ask permission. No one would go too hard on her for starting the necropsy early, and besides, she was only opening up one of the beasts.

  Her nerves tingled as she picked up a scalpel. Bristly fur parted, the sharp blade pierced tough flesh, and Sarah went to work.

  The minutes vanished, and blood covered her gloves and apron when she sat down two hours later. She took a distracted sip of her now ice-cold coffee. She’d never seen anything like this in nearly two decades of veterinary work. This wolf shouldn’t exist. But here it was, dissected like the science experiment from hell. This thing had killed three people and she didn’t have the faintest idea what to make of it.

  Two hundred pounds was large for a wolf, though not unheard of in certain types. But she had no idea what kind of wolf this was. Not an African wolf, which would have been her first guess due to the light, almost golden coat. These wolves were far too big, standing three feet at the shoulder and weighing two hundred pounds. The bulging hindquarters, ripe with muscle, called to mind one of nature’s elite predators, the leopard. Only when she considered how the creatures had hunted her team down, that comparison faltered. Leopards strangled larger prey by latching on to the neck. They didn’t lash out with their claws and rip prey apart as these wolves had. Neither did leopards typically chase large groups of prey when outnumbered, so why these two creatures had decided to come after Sarah’s research team was a mystery. Perhaps they had been sick, though she had found no signs of disease. It simply made no sense for them to attack. On top of that, the wolves could have chosen easier targets. They should have, based on everything Sarah knew. A lone person or a smaller animal like a goat, but not a group of people, and certainly not people with elephants nearby.

  None of it made sense, so Sarah stewed. Everything she knew said this shouldn’t have happened, that these creatures weren’t what they seemed. The organs and bones were strange, too large and too dense by half. The eyes were too big, the nose too large. This animal didn’t resemble any kind of wolf Sarah knew of, though she certainly didn’t know everything. Draining the last of her frigid coffee, she grabbed her phone and did what an intelligent scientist should. She asked for help. The wall clock sliced precious seconds off what little private time she had left with these creatures, making the decision easy. Another veterinarian wasn’t the answer. She needed expertise of a different sort, the kind garnered from years spent in the field interacting with animals. But even as her fingers punched in the number, she doubted herself: Was this the right move? The person she had in mind possessed what could be termed a checkered past when it came to wildlife. A man she’d met several years earlier in Monaco, during a debate hosted by an international organization dedicated to wildlife advocacy.

  He had been knowledgeable and as fervent a defender of wildlife as she, although in other ways he was everything she detested. But she was out of options. Sarah waited as the number rang, fingers drumming across the tabletop. It was early morning in Tanzania, same as Zurich.

  “Hello?”

  The same cheerful voice she remembered. Sarah took a deep breath. “Reed Kimble?”

  “Speaking.” The voice was neutral, even cold.

  Maybe he hadn’t saved her number. If so, what did that say about her, keeping his? Another breath, in through her nose and out through purs
ed lips.

  “Reed, this is Sarah Hall.”

  “Yes.” He sounded distracted. “Good morning.” A stifled yawn filled her ear, and what sounded like a screen door whining shut ended with a bang.

  “We were on a panel together in Monaco several years ago.”

  “Monaco?” The distraction vanished, a vibrancy filling his words. “Yes, sorry. It’s great to hear from you.” Then his voice dropped. “Isn’t it the middle of the night in New York?”

  The tiny knot in her stomach unwound. He’d remembered where she lived, so maybe this wasn’t crazy. “I’m in Zurich.”

  “What are you doing there?”

  She offered a brief overview of the genome research team cobbled together from across the globe before getting straight to it, glancing at the clock. “That’s not what I’m calling about. I have a situation and I need your expertise.”

  “I hope you use the term expert loosely,” Reed said. “What’s the situation?”

  She recapped her previous evening’s activities.

  “Are you alright?” Reed asked. He sounded fully alert now.

  “I’m fine,” she assured him. “More than can be said for some of the others. The wolves’ bodies are here in my laboratory. I’ve never seen anything like this. Can I send you photographs of them?”

  “You have them in front of you?” She confirmed she did. “How about a video call? You can show me right now.”

  “Hold on.” She fiddled with her phone, and seconds later the familiar face of a lifelong outdoorsman flashed onscreen. He still hadn’t managed to shave off the two-day beard, now sporting a spot or two of silver among the darker hairs. “Can you see me?” He could. Sarah turned her phone to the dead wolves. “Have you ever seen a wolf like this?”

  Reed had her move her phone all around the carcass, muttering to himself as she did, bits and pieces when put together made no sense at all. “I don’t have much time before the authorities show up,” Sarah told him after several minutes passed and he still hadn’t responded.