He opened his bedroom door and found Paul seated at the kitchen table, white bandages wrapped across his chest like a bandolier.
“How’s the chest?” Reed asked. “Looks good with your shoulder wound.”
Paul raised a thumb skyward. “I am ready, boss.”
“I stitched it,” Sarah said from in front of the stove. “And he is not ready for action. He’s going to rest.” A playful tone only one step from scolding crept into her words. “Isn’t that right, Paul?”
Paul’s smile never faltered. “Forgive me, Sarah. I meant, I am ready to rest.”
“Follow the doctor’s orders,” Reed said. “I’m going out to look for the other wolves. Might stop by to see my new friend Meikuaya while I’m at it.”
“I’ll join you,” Sarah said.
“I will guard our rooms,” Paul said. “No one will sneak up on me.”
“Good man,” he said with a grin. He pulled up a chair and turned to Sarah. “Alright. What about the wolf carcass? Don’t you want to do an autopsy?”
“You mean necropsy,” she chided with a wink. “It took longer than I expected, but I’m finished. We can talk about my findings while we’re out.”
“You’re already finished with the carcass?” Reed sat back and crossed his arms, nonplussed. They’d returned late last night. Reed had fallen asleep as soon as his head hit the pillow, barely getting his boots off before he crashed. “When did you do it?”
“This morning. I did it in the exam room, which isn’t as good as the full-scale laboratory down the hall, but it worked.”
“They didn’t let you use the lab?”
“It’s locked, and a security guard told me the area is off-limits.” She shrugged. “I managed.” She stepped away from the range to reveal why the kitchen smelled so good. “How many eggs do you want?”
“Two, please.” Was there no end to her energy? She handed him a full plate. “Necropsy and cooking breakfast. If you keep this up, I might hire you.”
“You couldn’t afford me. Now eat.” She paused. “Everything on the savanna is in danger until we catch those wolves. Including us.”
A few minutes later they were racing over the savanna once more in Reed’s ATV. No living creatures watched them fly by. Emptiness stretched in every direction, sending a ping of fear into Reed’s gut. They might already be too late.
“This is where we met the Maasai before,” Sarah shouted over the engine as grass stalks flashed by. “You think they’re still around?”
“Close by,” Reed said. “This is their homeland now.”
Their best hope for finding the two remaining hybrid wolves lay with Meikuaya, he knew. If anyone knew where these last animals might be, it was Meikuaya. Reed shielded his eyes, the sunlight blinding him even with his sunglasses on.
“We’ll circle here. The Maasai will find us if they’re around. If they want to talk, that is. If they don’t, we’ll never know they’re here.”
Whether in tall grass, woodlands, or a vast open plain, Maasai could become invisible on the savanna. While on safari he’d come within a hundred feet of watching tribesmen before they revealed themselves, coming out only when they saw who led the group. Reed had always made sure to offer meat from the hunts to his nomadic neighbors to ensure a friendly relationship. Those contacts had proved invaluable when he joined the anti-poaching squad, effectively giving him a hundred additional ears and eyes hunting for poachers.
He eased off the gas as they cruised, veering close to any woodland patches or other potential hiding spots. No reason to whiz by before the natives could make their presence known. “Is the safety on your pistol?” Reed asked.
“Yes.” Of course, Sarah checked again after she answered, which was the whole point. He’d given her a tranquilizing gun with some hesitation, and, as in his hunting days, would take every chance to remind her that safety never slept.
She leaned back in her seat, one hand clutching the grab bar overhead. “Do you love it out here?” She waved with her other hand, encompassing everything from the dirt beneath them to mountains on the horizon, jagged peaks and valleys at the edge of sight. “This is so different from the city. Having this as your backyard – it’s like a foreign world.”
“In a good or bad way?”
She laughed. “Depends. Are you looking for Thai food? Then it’s not ideal. Peace and quiet? I would go with this place, not mine.”
“The savanna isn’t as different from America as you may think. I grew up in Montana. Plenty of open space there, just different wildlife and a bit more snow.”
She laughed again, ending with a snort. “Oh my.” One hand covered her mouth, and she looked toward him, reddening. “Did you hear that?”
He winked. “Hear what?”
“Stop it.” She smacked his arm. “Anyway, I’ve never been to Montana. Canada, yes, but never your home state.”
A picture of his parents’ stores came to him, and then of their house. “I loved the outdoors,” Reed said. “Hunting, fishing, skiing. Pretty much anything you can do without a roof over your head. My father taught me how to do all of it from the time I was a little kid.”
“Not exactly Brooklyn,” Sarah said. “That’s where I grew up.”
“How you live like that, I have no idea. Nothing but concrete and people everywhere.”
“There are tradeoffs. I didn’t ever hunt or fish. One reason being anything you catch in the Hudson is better released.” Her free hand played with her hair now, though she didn’t seem aware of it. “New York had pretty much anything else you could ask for. Museums, zoos, the arts. All of it world class.”
“Seems the zoo made more of an impression on you than anything else.”
Her face darkened. “You could say it’s why I’m a veterinarian.” She tugged at the strands in her fingers. “I guess I never really left; just traded one borough for another.” She turned to face him. “Why did you leave Montana?”
Reed kept his eyes ahead. A simple question, one his mother had asked many times. Not so often as of late. “It was time to move on. Get out and see the world.”
“Are your parents still there?”
“My father is still running the business, even though he should have retired years ago.” They were edging closer to the heart of it now.
“What business?”
A flock of birds coasted by overhead, framed against wispy clouds far above. He couldn’t remember the last time this subject had come up. “Shipping. My grandfather started a small company years ago, and it’s still there today.” He offered a well-practiced overview of them moving goods by truck, boat or small plane. “Mainly international traffic between the States and Canada.”
“Do you own the boats and trucks?” she asked. Reed confirmed they did. “And the planes?”
“Only the smaller ones. We subcontract larger cargos.”
Sarah raised an eyebrow. “Sounds like a serious operation.”
He scratched at his wounded chin. “My father handles the higher-level stuff. Employees deal with the day-to-day specifics, but that never stopped him from sticking his nose into everything.”
She peered at him from the corner of her eye. “It never hurts for the people in charge to get their hands dirty. The dean of our department pops into the lab now and again to see how things are going. He even runs a test or two.”
“Which is fine,” Reed said. “Does he let you do your job otherwise?”
“Yes.”
“Because you know what you’re doing. A boss staying on top of things is important, but you have to let employees do their work.”
Now she turned to face him. “I take it you and your father didn’t see eye-to-eye on that?”
“Sort of.” Reed sighed. “My father worked his way up from the loading docks. My grandfather made sure he knew how to handle every aspect of the operation, top to bottom. The same thing happened to me. I started my career lugging crates, then eventually got promoted to vice-president before I lef
t. Along the way I developed my own ideas of how to run a business.”
“And your father didn’t always agree.” A minute passed in silence, the gentle rumbling of the engine filling the gap. “Is that why you left?”
“No.” The question of how to run the business hadn’t sent him away. Wrong question. “We disagreed on things. It’s healthy to disagree when you’re figuring out how to manage an operation. Everything gets worked out and you end up in a better position. I’m an only child. My father had expectations.” His jaw tightened. “And he doesn’t hear no often.”
“It seems you were meant to start your own business,” she said. “Considering you built a successful safari operation from the ground up.”
Now his knuckles went white on the steering wheel. “Unfortunately, my father feels hunting is a leisure activity. Not a ‘real business’ like shipping. He can’t understand why I’d pass on running the family business to start my own company half a world away. Of course, he—”
Sarah cut him off. “I found them.”
He stopped mid-rant. “Found who?” The topic of his dad never failed to get him going, no matter how hard he tried.
“The Maasai.”
For the first time he noticed the ebony statue standing by several acacia trees. Reed wheeled toward the lone man, slowing to a stop when he recognized Meikuaya.
The elder signaled, and a dozen Maasai warriors sprouted from the tall grass.
“Reed Kimble!” Meikuaya smiled, his arms spread wide.
Reed stopped the ATV. He and Sarah walked to Meikuaya, and the old man clasped Reed’s forearm in greeting. “I’m sorry, but we don’t have a lot of time. Have you seen the animals we spoke about?”
“I have not,” he responded in Swahili. Reed didn’t have to translate for Sarah; she picked up on his reaction. “But we found tracks. It can only be the wolves.”
“Fresh tracks?”
The elder nodded. “Today. They are in the area.”
“Can we go after them now?” Sarah asked, facing Meikuaya. Reed translated the question for him.
Meikuaya didn’t say anything. Instead, he clasped Reed’s forearm again with his gnarled, steely fingers. Something flashed across his face, almost predatory. A look Reed knew well. “Yes. It is time to hunt.”
“Get in,” Reed told Sarah. His dart gun was loaded, as was Sarah’s, and his pistol carried a full magazine of live ammo. If Meikuaya worked with him, they could—
“We cannot use the machine,” Meikuaya called out to Reed. “The tracks are by the trees,” he told them. “Too much noise will scare the demons away.” He was referring to the wolves. Reed kept that to himself.
“Change of plans.” Reed told Sarah. He stepped onto the ground again, shouldering his rifle. “We go on foot.”
To her credit, Sarah didn’t complain. “I’ll stay close.”
They set off at a quick pace, the Maasai warriors leading them into the sparse woodlands boasting brilliant green foliage.
“This isn’t much different from the jungles,” Reed noted.
“Not as muggy.” Her gaze twitched in every direction.
“Don’t worry.” Reed slowed his pace, dropping back to throw an arm around her shoulder. She tensed for an instant, and then relaxed. He wasn’t sure, but she may have actually leaned in to him. “Keep your eyes open. We’ll be fine.”
Trees thickened around them, an occasional bird crying out as a dozen human interlopers passed, though none took flight. As the first beads of sweat formed on Reed’s neck, he glanced back to find Sarah right on his tail. Smart girl. This was his turf and she realized it. If their roles were reversed and Reed found himself in New York, he’d let her lead the way. He flashed a grin, and she reciprocated. Stay confident, even if you don’t feel it. Lucky for him, Meikuaya and his warriors were here; not hard to stay positive with that kind of force watching your back.
The lead warrior ducked low under a branch and vanished, a wall of green limbs falling like a stage curtain at his back. One after another the warriors pushed through, though when Reed’s turn came he had no idea of the gorgeous tableau waiting on the other side. One moment there were trees on every side, and the next, when he ducked beneath the overhanging branch, open savanna greeted him for miles. Almost identical to the lands surrounding his compound, except for one thing. There wasn’t an animal in sight. No giraffes, no elephants, no zebras or cheetahs. Even the birds they’d passed no longer floated overhead. It was pristine, open emptiness.
“Be nice to have a helicopter.” Reed pointed to the horizon. “We could look for the vultures and dead wildlife they’re surely killing. The hybrids need to eat, and from what we’ve seen so far, they eat a lot. If there’s anything left from a kill, vultures will find it.”
That’s when he realized the Maasai now stood in a half-circle around them. They seemed to move like ghosts every time Reed blinked. Then, inexplicably, each warrior knelt and placed a hand on the ground. Reed watched them uncertainly.
Sarah pressed against his arm. “What are they doing?” she asked in a whisper.
An instant later it hit him. Obvious, really. “Something’s out there,” he said. “They can feel it.” Nothing but empty savanna ahead, with gently rising hills on either side. Nothing to see. At least, not yet. Reed unholstered the .45 on his waist. “Something big.”
Following the natives, they each knelt and reached to the ground. Smooth, warm dirt crumbled beneath his touch. But when Reed placed his entire palm on the ground, he felt it. A low rumbling, like a rising drumbeat working its way up from your shoes, a vibration still far off but gaining power. “Do you feel it?” Sarah nodded.
“It is a herd,” Meikuaya said, materializing by Reed’s side. The guy didn’t seem to move; he teleported.
The rumbling increased, and the leading warriors stepped back toward the forest, only stopping when trees protected them on each side.
Reed blinked and a pack of wildebeests galloped into sight and raced across the fields, their curved horns slicing through the humid air. A cheetah ran just after the dozens of wildebeests. So a single cheetah had caused this? Reed frowned. Suddenly the last two hybrids galloped into view, closing fast on the fleeing herd.
“Get back,” Reed told Sarah sharply. They had to act quickly, while the hybrids were focused on the wildebeests.
The cheetah, with a final, inscrutable look over its shoulder, peeled off, headed for distant pastures, though the wolves gave it no mind. They bared their fangs now as they gained on the slowest wildebeest, running on a line that would take them directly in front of the woodlands. Reed raised the tranquilizer rifle and sighted in on the closest hybrid.
Steady breaths, stock tight against his shoulder. Close to the scope, but not too close. Crosshairs settled on the lead wolf. Squeeze it, don’t pull. The pounding hooves, rumbling ground…all of it vanished as his world narrowed to the wolf in his sights.
He pulled the trigger. The rifle bucked gently as the lead wolf stumbled. Got him.
Again he took aim, not bothering to watch the first one fall. Another shot struck home, and the terrified wildebeests crested the rise and disappeared. The warriors moved as one to surge forward, but Reed raised his hand, palm out. “Wait. Make sure the tranquilizer dart is working.” After another minute passed, he led them away from the trees toward their targets.
Both animals lay flat, chests rising and falling smoothly. Sarah checked for other injuries. “They look healthy,” she said. “Now to get them back to the facility.” She smacked her pants, knocking the dust off. “Any ideas about how we do that?”
“I’ll bring the vehicle around. It moves through the woods pretty well.” He turned to Meikuaya. “Can your men guide me back?” The elder barked out a command, and seconds later Reed and Sarah were struggling to keep up with the young warrior loping ahead of them through the woodlands. The youth didn’t even break a sweat as they made it back to where Reed had parked the vehicle. He looked on with an unreadable e
xpression as Reed fired up the engine.
“Want to ride with us?” Reed asked.
The warrior stepped back, waving a hand as though to ward off evil spirits. “No,” he said.
“It’s faster.” Well, maybe it was. The guy could really run. “It’s safe.” His guide still didn’t seem to be buying it.
Then Sarah spoke. “Get in.” She hopped into the back cargo area and pointed to the seat she had just vacated. “You ride in the front.”
For some reason, this worked. Maybe it was her smile, or maybe he had a mother who took no nonsense. The warrior sat on the passenger side with unease, protesting as Reed buckled his seat belt.
Sarah pointed to the grab bars. “Tell him to hold on tight.”
Reed did, and when they started moving, the young man clutched the bar so hard Reed thought it would bend. As they picked up speed, though, everything changed. The guy grinned like a kid at Disneyland.
A few minutes later, Reed stopped beside the other Maasai, who turned as one and stared at the sight of their young tribesman jumping out of the vehicle.
Reed handed a length of rope to Sarah. “Use this to tie them up.” With the warrior’s help, they trussed the two wolves and then loaded them onto the ATV.
Meikuaya latched onto Reed’s forearm with his now familiar grip. “Thank you for what you have done.”
“We couldn’t have done it without you.”
The old man nodded before he turned and headed off, his men falling into step as they moved across the savanna with an effortless jog, headed back to the life they had known for generations.
“You know these animals won’t be allowed to live,” Sarah said as Reed began driving. “There’s no place for them in our ecosystem.”
“Doesn’t make it right, but what else can we do?”
Sarah seemed to shrink into herself. “Make sure it doesn’t happen again. These animals didn’t ask for this. They were normal wolves until Soter, or the military, or whoever the hell is behind all this decided to mess with nature. And look what’s happened. Innocent people dead. Wolves turned into monsters. Elephants slaughtered.”
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