by Jane H Wood
‘Oh, I’m so happy I’ve found you. Are you all right?’ Edmund asked, trying to check him over for any injuries. ‘You’ll be fine now. I’ll look after you,’ he said, stroking the pup in an effort to calm him down.
Tuke studied them together, and with a human so close to him he was hesitant to venture out in to the open. But after a while, unable to stop himself, he crept out a little further, until his head was clear of the makeshift den. Trembling, Tuke edged closer, until finally curiosity won and he approached the boy. Edmund sat back on his heels, surveying the pup, and held a hand out to him.
‘Come on, boy. I won’t hurt you,’ he said gently.
Unobserved, Borrin had remained hidden where he was and had not run off with the rest of the pack as Edmund had thought. Instead, he’d waited in the shadows, monitoring their every movement.
The boy was just yards away, kneeling on the ground with his back towards him. He only had to charge, and the boy would be dead in an instant. Then, he thought, the pup is mine. I’ll rip an ear off the dead body, then Gower will know I killed the pup with the golden hairs.
He made his move, skulking low and keeping directly behind the boy. Absorbed with hatred, his top lip curled in a silent snarl, while his eyes burned with death, focusing unblinkingly on the boy’s neck.
14
Joel felt uncomfortable knowing his two sons were alone in the makeshift den and decided to return to check on them. He arrived at the top of the hill and gazed down at the scene below.
‘Borrin!’ he murmured, and moved quickly from his vantage point. He could see that the boy was in Borrin’s line of attack, not that he cared about the human, but Kegg and Tuke were out in the open and in grave danger.
Controlling his descent, Joel set off through the undergrowth, breaking twigs and uprooting plants in his desperate attempt to intercept Borrin. He was nearing the bottom of the hill, with less than ten bounding leaps before he would make contact with him. With a snarl he parted his jaws in readiness for a fight.
Borrin was creeping closer, paw by silent paw, his eyes on the boy, and the prize just beyond. He was so focused on his goal, nothing else mattered. Finally, he thought, he was going to be triumphant, and he licked his mouth in anticipation of the glory he would receive from Gower, teetering momentarily as a tingle of excitement raced through his body as he prepared to launch himself at the boy.
Minutes before, the group of men had passed through the archway and entered the overgrown area of trees and dense shrubbery. Further along the trail, they spotted Edmund kneeling on the ground holding a wolf pup in his arms, with another young pup nearby, looking on placidly.
A dark shape, moving rapidly, caught their attention, appearing to be charging straight for Edmund.
The men only had a moment to react. As Phil and Ryan swung their rifles forward, preparing to fire, Sam yelled at the top of his voice.
‘Edmund! Get down now!’
The sound of his name being called with such urgency made Edmund spin round in alarm. In that instant he saw his dad, and the rangers with their guns pointing in his direction. A dark shape caught his peripheral vision, just a slight movement behind him. He turned his head, and a cold fear gripped him as his eyes rested on the scruffy wolf creeping steadily towards him, barely visible in the overgrown grasses. Panicked, he spun back to GoldenEars, when he spied another wolf speeding down the hill. He could instantly see it was GoldenEars’ father coming to defend his two sons. His relief was short-lived as he looked wildly at the rangers again; their weapons were aimed at the wrong wolf. The assessment took a split second to process in Edmund’s mind, and he scrambled to his feet, his arms waving wildly over his head while simultaneously yelling at the top of his voice.
‘No! Stop! He’s my frie…!’
The warning came too late; the scene was cast; the rangers fired. A tortured scream spewed from Edmund’s lips, then his lifeless body fell to the ground.
Joel ignored the gunfire and the boy. With jaws open wide he leapt, catching Borrin in mid-air, teeth seizing his scraggy neck. The momentum carried the pair somersaulting backwards across the grass, sliding until they stopped in a sprawled heap. On landing, Joel had inadvertently loosened his grip, enabling the cowardly wolf to break free. In a flash, Borrin regained his paws and raced up the hillside, with Joel in hot pursuit.
‘No… Edmund!’ yelled Sam, sprinting to his son’s side.
The rangers sped after him, stunned by the speed of the accident. It was over before they realised. It was a serious mistake, caused by Phil and Ryan, who’d hastily fired their rifles. And now the pair were totally devastated by what they’d done. Chaos ensued, accusations and threats filling the air. Sam was stunned that his son had been shot, whereas the two men responsible couldn’t stop apologising, both trying to justify their actions. Max stepped forward, trying to calm the situation.
The chief ranger stared down at the boy, who appeared to be dead. His face was pale, and his lifeless body lay still. Two blooded marks seeped through his clothes; one appeared to be from a chest wound, and the other was coming from the top of his left arm.
Sam dropped to his knees, cradling his son in his arms, disbelieving what had happened. He clung desperately to his limp body, rocking him gently, and wept.
‘Edmund. Please, please wake up!’ he choked, distraught, the sobs distorting his words. He took a deep shuddering breath, struggling to compose himself. Then anger erupted, as though his heart had been wrenched from his chest. With venom, Sam glared at Max… then turned towards the two rangers responsible.
‘You bloody idiots! You’ve murdered my son! Didn’t you see him standing there?’ he spat, scrambling to his feet. Deciding someone should pay, Sam curled his fists as he strode towards them.
‘Wait… He’s not dead!’ said a shocked voice incredulously.
Sam spun round at the words, his gaze resting on Bert kneeling beside the prone body of his son, his hand grasping the boy’s wrist.
‘There is a pulse, Sam… It’s weak, but he’s definitely alive!’ exclaimed Bert in amazement.
Sam hurried to the spot and dropped to the ground, his hand groping for the reassuring throb on Edmund’s wrist.
‘Yes, I can feel it too!’ he said, suddenly elated. ‘Son, you’re going to be all right. Hang on! We’ll get help!’
He glared at Max, and their eyes locked. The chief ranger flinched uncomfortably under his gaze. The boy was alive, even after receiving two gunshot wounds. It was a miracle, and he must be kept alive at all costs, he thought. Extracting the radio from his pocket, Max hoped the rescue helicopter wasn’t far away as he made contact with the pilot.
A light was penetrating Edmund’s befuddled brain, causing him to move very slightly, then his eyes flickered momentarily before opening.
‘Oh son! Thank God! Hold on, help is coming!’ cried Sam, his eyes moist with tears of relief, now trickling freely down his face.
‘Dad… I’m sorry, Dad… GoldenEars… I had to find him. Is he all right?’ whispered Edmund, his voice barely audible.
Sam peered into the collapsed tunnel and saw two pairs of eyes staring out from the darkness. One of the pups began to creep forward, his golden eyes searching Sam’s face questioningly before turning his attention to Edmund. Now the pup was in full view, Sam studied the rest of his appearance.
‘GoldenEars,’ he whispered. ‘Yes, he seems to be fine.’
He could understand why his son had named it so, for the pup had a cluster of golden hairs on the tip of each forward dangling ear, creating a soft halo effect around its face.
Minutes later the helicopter passed overhead.
‘At last!’ exclaimed Sam. ‘Hang on, son! You’re going to be all right! Edmund, can you hear me?’ he said frantically, while simultaneously trying to staunch the bleeding from the two gunshot wounds.
‘I’ll run over to
the clearing!’ offered Max. ‘Bring a stretcher. Don’t worry, Sam, we’ll soon have your son safely in hospital.’
Max and Ryan turned and sped off, leaving Phil by his side.
Phil stayed with them just in case the wolves should return. He was holding his rifle tightly in his hands, staring at the weapon. He felt sick to his stomach. If the boy should die, he dared not think of the repercussions of their catastrophic mistake.
Tension and guilt were ripe in the air, but Sam chose to ignore Phil. His only concern was for his son, watching the reassuring rise and fall of his chest.
A while later, his son lifted his eyelids and stared unfocused at him. Feeling panicked by his blank expression, Sam began to talk… talk about anything. Reliving the days of fun beside the river, he spoke about the big fish they’d caught. Anything to get Edmund’s mind off dying.
Kegg whimpered as he watched the boy, feeling an uncomfortable sensation growing in his chest. His discomfort drifted to Tuke, and he crept out of the tunnel to sit beside his brother.
The two rangers returned with the pilot, but the sight of them gave Sam little cause for celebration because Edmund was so weak and the amount of blood loss was alarming.
‘Quick, help him!’ begged Sam, moving aside.
The pilot examined the boy quickly, placing a finger on the pulse in his neck.
‘Edmund, my name is Dave… Can you hear me?’ he said, trying to rouse him. ‘You have done well to keep the pressure on both wounds, Mr Rainer,’ said Dave. ‘We’ll move him as soon as I’ve bandaged his injuries.’
Working quickly, Dave extracted what he needed from his first-aid bag. Then the stretcher was positioned beside Edmund and, after lifting him carefully onto it, they were ready to depart.
Sam glanced at the pups.
‘I think they’re injured too!’ he said, indicating the two sorry sights sitting forlornly on the earth. ‘That one with the golden hairs has blood on its hind leg. Was it hit, or perhaps that’s Edmund’s blood?’
Max bent down and examined the pups. They weren’t so shy anymore and allowed the humans to approach.
‘No, this one is fine. But the other one seems to have an older and more serious injury to its hindquarters. I think we’d better take them both back to our reserve; our vet can check them over.’ He lifted Tuke, while Phil carefully picked up Kegg.
Edmund hadn’t moved; covered to his chin with a blanket he was settled aboard the helicopter and secured for the flight.
‘I’ll go back and get your Chevy! Meet you…’ started Bert. ‘But I’m not sure where the truck is.’ He scratched his head, realising he hadn’t a clue where it was.
‘I believe to the west of here there’s a cabin near a river,’ said Max. ‘Were you staying there?’
Bert nodded. ‘Yeah, that’s the place.’
‘We’ll drop you off in our Land Rover before we take these pups back to our reserve.’
‘Thanks,’ replied Bert, relieved he didn’t have to stumble about in the wilderness all alone.
‘Here are the keys,’ said Sam, tossing them to his friend. He was eager to get going.
‘We’re going to the Royal Alexandra Hospital in Edmonton… Stand back now,’ Dave said, closing the doors.
The engine stuttered and whined as the overhead blades began to rotate, until at full power the helicopter lifted gracefully into the skies. Bert stood back, watching the helicopter hover momentarily before turning southwards, en route to Edmonton.
***
Joel was seething. He had chased Borrin through the trees, determined to catch him. Then, when the traitor was within his grasp, he’d escaped like the slippery coward he was, by leaping from an overhanging boulder and into the river below.
He stood there panting, watching Borrin being carried downstream, his paws scrabbling madly as he tried to swim.
With a snort of contempt he turned away, not caring if Borrin should drown. The chase had cost him valuable time, and he’d strayed a good distance from his family.
With a sense of urgency he returned to where he’d left his sons, only to discover they were no longer there. He set to work, his sensitive nose to the ground, searching, weaving back and forth, until he picked up the trail of men and his young sons. With fleet paws he arrived at the spot where the monstrous thing had landed.
But he was too late; the ground lay empty, leaving only a faint mephitic smell lingering in the air.
His acute hearing caught a fading sound, lifting his attention towards the southern skies. He glimpsed something, a small dot in a sea of blue. He blinked as it disappeared over the distant hills… then was gone. Joel stood there waiting… and waiting. He didn’t know how long he stayed rooted to the spot, expecting his persistence to be rewarded.
It was as though he was the only living creature in this vast wilderness; even the clear blue skies were devoid of life. Just silence, absolute and final. He was alone! The numbing disbelief was leaving him as the bitter reality sank in.
They had taken his sons!
It confirmed everything he’d ever thought about humans, and a burning hatred settled in his heart.
The day was nearly over by the time he arrived at the mountain trail. He climbed wearily, reluctant to tell his mate the news. With soft paws he entered the shallow cave and spotted Mira and Skeena huddled together in a comfy nook in the corner. They were dozing, blissfully unaware of the tragedies that had unfolded in the forest.
He surveyed his sweet Mira, then allowed his eyes to drift fondly to his daughter. But he’d lost all three of his sons.
A pain was growing inside him, constricting his breathing like he’d accidentally swallowed an overly large stone. He gulped, hoping to dislodge it, but instead it continued to swell in his chest until the urge to howl was overwhelming. Turning, he padded back to the edge of the rocky ledge… lifted his head and howled to the skies.
His voice, so haunting, stirred his mate. And Mira lifted her head, recognising the heart-rending howl of loss and sadness, and in that tormented moment she knew her sons were lost.
She whimpered, not wanting to believe, but understood what he was feeling. With a heavy heart she went to him.
Joel’s voice tapered away into silence and he sat down heavily, his eyes moist. Sitting together with their faces touching, too emotional to speak, they grieved.
Skeena woke up and blinked, wondering… had she dreamt the howling?
On the ledge overlooking the forest she found her mother and father.
‘Father, I’m so happy you came back. But where are Tuke and Kegg?’ she asked, noticing his downcast face.
Her chest tightened painfully… How could she not see? For her father had assumed that same expression he’d had on that awful day at the river… when her mother and brothers went missing. In growing unease, she licked her lips, waiting for her father to speak.
Joel approached her and nuzzled her cheek affectionately.
‘My daughter, be strong now for what I have to tell you concerning your brothers,’ he said, speaking slowly, for his voice was strained with emotion and a tightness in his throat was restricting his speech.
Afterwards the little family stayed close for many hours, just sitting, reluctant to move.
Then Joel lifted his head and spoke.
‘No one will take anyone else from us! We will travel south, further than we have ever ventured before. We will take back what is ours. Anyone who tries to stop us will be killed… Mira, we will find our sons, I promise you!’ he boomed, his voice loud and strong drifting over the treetops and echoing through the hillsides.
15
The steady monotonous drone of the helicopter’s engine filled Sam’s ears, muffling all other sounds into obscurity. Nothing was as important as his son lying in front of him. He couldn’t take his eyes off him, willing him to keep breathing.
He averted his gaze for a scant minute, allowing his eyes to roam over the undulating forests passing rapidly beneath them. They were leaving the lush wilderness behind them en route to Edmonton Hospital. They had only been airborne for a few minutes and already Sam’s anxieties were at breaking point.
‘How much longer?’ he asked impatiently, lifting his voice above the noise.
The pilot removed his headset and glanced over his shoulder.
‘I’ve notified the hospital that we’re on our way and informed them of Edmund’s injuries. So, they’ll be ready. I’ve said ETA eighty minutes. How’s Edmund doing? Any changes?’
Sam shook his head miserably.
‘No change, he’s still unconscious!’
‘Right, hold tight, Mr Rainer, I’ll get us there as quickly as possible.’
As soon as they landed, a medical team descended like a swarm around his son, busy assessing his condition and working on his wounds. Sam backed away, giving them space to work.
‘We’ve got him now, Mr Rainer,’ said a man in a white coat.
Then suddenly they were taking him away… his son whisked from his sight. He hadn’t even spoken to him, given him any reassurances that things would be fine, nothing. He just stood there mutely, while his boy was hurriedly wheeled down the corridor.
‘Your son is going straight into surgery, Mr Rainer,’ said a nurse standing beside him. ‘It might take a while, so if you’d follow me our waiting room is just along the corridor,’ she added with a detached calmness.
Sam followed her, his mind preoccupied, replaying the dreadful scene when his boy was shot, and now, to torture himself further, the last awful glimpse of him as he was wheeled away plagued his mind.