by Jane H Wood
Unease spurred Thorn to act, leading his young family away from the familiar dense thicket of shrubs and tangled trees where they had resided peacefully for so long. He remembered all too clearly the wolf’s strength and cunning; and if Joel decided to return there would be trouble, and that was something he wanted to avoid. He had a duty to protect his mate Brindle who was nursing her pups. So, he’d taken his pack eastwards where an abundance of small lakes and rivers intertwined through the forests, creating isolated islands here and there.
Thorn had discounted the islands immediately, for if they were attacked their escape would be slow, leaving everyone exposed. Instead he’d chosen elevated ground, with the cover of trees on one side and an area of open hillside on the other, which led down to the forest and a river beyond.
***
April had drifted by, and now it was the middle of May. Edmund had been kept busy with his training, learning everything he could, paying strict attention to Gus’s every word. It had been fun, but with long hours and the endless walking he was glad when he was given a day off.
He didn’t know why he’d chosen to wander into the forest or venture in this particular direction. Something was guiding him towards the shade of a tall spruce tree. He stopped and gazed up into the green canopy, catching an occasional glimpse of blue sky as the branches bent in the breeze. It was a beautiful sunny day; he sighed, taking in the speckled patterns cast on the forest floor… and there, suddenly in front of him like a vision, stood GoldenEars.
Wide-eyed he stared at his friend.
‘GoldenEars!’ he breathed, and rushed forward to greet him with such enthusiasm that the pair collided, then tumbled onto the grass, happy to be reunited.
Cruelly, the time sped past all too quickly, and GoldenEars stood up and scented the air, as though in preparation to depart. Edmund darted a glance all around him, expecting to see his family arriving to claim him. But there were no other animals in sight, just the two of them, but all the same, he wondered where they could be. He’d enjoyed his friend’s company and was reluctant to end their meeting. His wolf nudged his face affectionately before moving silently through the dappled light of the forest.
Edmund sat watching his wolf trot away, until he disappeared from sight, melting into the shadows of the tall trees. Was he being selfish, wanting his wolf to stay? But then GoldenEars looked well and happy, and that thought swelled his heart.
It was only mid-morning, far too early to go back just yet, he told himself. He wanted to hold onto that feeling of contentment, so he sat there a long while, letting his mind wander, marvelling at his friend and how much he’d grown.
His stomach groaned, telling him it was lunchtime. Jumping to his feet he ran back to the centre, eager to tell Max the good news.
‘GoldenEars was here! I saw him near the edge of the forest!’ said Edmund, slightly out of breath.
‘There! I thought he might come back!’ said Max, smiling at Edmund’s happy face. ‘I would’ve liked to have seen him. Perhaps he will return another day.’
Edmund sat down and described the circumstances surrounding the discovery of his wolf.
‘I don’t know why, Max,’ he said, remembering the feeling just before he saw GoldenEars, ‘but I was drawn to a spot under the trees, and then he was there, in front of me!’
The shrill ring of the telephone put a stop to any further discussion. The chief ranger lifted the receiver. Max went quiet while he listened to the voice at the other end of the line, his eyes downcast, and his smile turning into a frown. Edmund shuffled uneasily in his chair, watching Max grasp a map on his desk. He flicked it open…
‘Okay. We’ll get right on it. Thanks Bob,’ he said, and hung up the receiver.
‘What is it?’ asked Edmund, staring at Max’s retreating back as he strode quickly out of his office. A sickening fear rose inside Edmund, compelling him to follow.
‘Max! What is it…? Is GoldenEars all right?’ he demanded, becoming increasingly alarmed by his chief ranger’s silence as he moved urgently down the corridor and entered their task room.
‘Gus! We’ve got a problem in the reserve,’ he called with asperity, glaring at the older man relaxing, reading a newspaper.
The older ranger looked up, surprised by the sudden appearance of Max, red-faced and angry, with Edmund hovering behind him, jabbering non-stop about wolves.
‘What’s happened?’ he asked, dropping his paper and getting to his feet.
‘We’ve got hunters in the eastern section shooting animals! Bob has just informed me. Gunfire has been heard coming from that direction… multiple shots apparently. Come on, weapons everyone!’ he said, heading towards their storeroom.
Inside, Josh and Keith were busy cleaning their rifles and looked up in alarm as Max strode in.
‘What’s going on?’ asked Josh. ‘Has something happened?’ he said, noticing Gus and Edmund behind him.
There was a rush of voices as everyone began talking at once, asking questions and speculating on what might be happening.
‘No time for guessing or explanations!’ yelled Max, silencing everyone. ‘Get your rifles, and take some spare cartridges too.’
‘GoldenEars is out there, Max!’ shouted Edmund, following the chief ranger as he darted about the room, grabbing what he needed.
‘Yeah, I know, but he isn’t the only animal on the reserve. Let’s hope we’re not too late. Hurry everyone!’ Max surveyed Josh and Keith, each grabbing various items and stuffing them unceremoniously into a bag.
‘No, Keith, you stay here. You’re in charge. Josh, come with us… Edmund, have you learnt to shoot yet?’ asked Max.
Gus answered for him. ‘No, we haven’t got that far yet.’
‘Right, Edmund, you stay here…’
Edmund remonstrated before he could finish. ‘No, Max, I must come, please!’ he wailed.
‘On second thoughts, if I made you stay here I’m sure you’d come anyway. At least I can keep my eye on you. But stay close to me,’ Max ordered, zipping up his bag.
‘Are we ready?’ he asked, glancing round at everyone. The men nodded, grim-faced.
‘We’ll take the Land Rover. Gus, you drive. It won’t take us all the way unfortunately, the terrain is quite rough in that section, but speed is important here, and it will save a lot of time. Keith, we’ll keep in radio contact,’ finished Max, heading for the door with his three rangers hurrying in his wake.
23
Gallock was on lookout duties on top of the hill. The weather had warmed, bringing out the insects. He listened as a few fat bumblebees settled on the nearby wild flowers. Their calming unhurried buzzing soothed him, and slowly he let himself relax, soaking up the midday sun. He changed his position and lay down, and gradually his eyelids began to droop.
The playful sounds of the six-week-old pups enjoying a game gently disturbed his sleepy mind, and with an effort he lifted his eyes to watch them tumbling and pouncing on each other in a boisterous game of tag.
His eyes roamed sideways, noting Brindle and Thorn lying nearby, watching their youngsters playing. A short distance away lay the three females, Cutty, Pineweed and Blaze, enjoying the warmth, while the three males, Grazen, Frost and Mort, were fast asleep beside them.
Everyone had just eaten their fill, and a sleepy contented feeling had rolled over the adults in the pack. Even last year’s siblings, Rint, Ghost, Shadow, and the female Cinders, were contentedly resting.
But unbeknown to them, lying not fifteen yards away and nestling in the shade of some bushes was Kegg. He had been on his way to rejoin his family after meeting the boy when he’d heard the excited yelps from the youngsters playing together. Their voices had stirred distant memories of when he was a pup, and he’d decided to stop and linger for a while. The minutes rolled by, the warm sunshine instilling a feeling of well-being, and his eyes began to close.
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br /> A sudden loud shrieking filled the air as a flock of birds took to the skies, the commotion bringing Kegg rudely awake. He blinked and looked around him, alarmed, his heart racing.
A split second later a twig snapped somewhere behind him, then another.
Before his brain could fully realise the danger, they were on them!
Like a pack of rabid animals, humans descended, sprinting from the cover of the trees, their voices ringing with hate. Their killing sticks were deafening in their hands, destroying the tranquillity and replacing it with the sounds of death. The carnage escalated as more men arrived; the startled wolves, each desperately scrabbling to their paws, attempted to dodge between the darting forms.
Evilness had arrived that day; the men were organised and merciless in their attack. Tall dark figures against the bright sunlight loomed over them, jeering, swinging either a wooden club or a rifle, anything to bludgeon a wolf too slow to react and flee. The sickening sounds of dying filled the air as wolves fell, their blood smearing the ground red.
Thorn spun round, taking in the fragmented scene on all sides.
His pack was being slaughtered!
With a howl, he initiated the attack in defence of them all, and pounced onto the nearest human, knocking him to the ground. Those wolves that were able followed his lead, each choosing a victim. The big wolf Gallock gave chase, quickly bringing down another man. He lay sprawled on his back trying to wriggle away, his arms high, shielding his face from the inevitable attack. Gallock charged, his hatred devouring him, and sank his teeth deep into the man’s soft belly. He heard the scream and felt the man lash out, punching and kicking him repeatedly in an effort to break his hold. The man was weakening, his lifeblood leaving him, pooling in his stomach as Gallock proceeded to rip his insides apart. In a flash, the big wolf lunged forward, seizing the man’s throat. He closed his jaws around the flabby neck, tasting blood in his mouth as the man went limp.
The men had totally underestimated the wolves. They had thought it would be easy to charge in and kill the whole pack. The last thing they’d expected was that the wolves would stand and fight.
Brindle was valiantly trying to defend her pups but men had cornered her. She was terrified with nowhere to run and looked wildly across at Pineweed and Cutty in desperation. The pair of females were surrounded by a group of men wielding wooden clubs and long sticks, taunting and jabbing at their petrified faces. An unearthly wail came up her throat as she turned to see a flash of light leave the human’s killing stick, aimed at her head.
In that moment Brindle was dead.
Thorn was wrestling with a man on the ground when he glanced sideways just in time to see his mate fall. His opponent didn’t hesitate, and swiftly grabbing a nearby rock struck Thorn hard on the side of his head; the blow sent him reeling sideways. He lay there temporarily stunned. In a flash of grey, Mort took his place, pouncing on the man, and the fight resumed.
Thorn regained his paws and shook his head, blinking away the blood now seeping from the corner of his left eye. His vision blurred, but he searched through the moving shapes for the man who had just killed his mate. Spotting him, he charged, acting on instinct, out of love for his mate and in defence of his offspring. He pounced, aiming for the man holding the killing stick. The wolf impacted high on the man’s chest, his weight and momentum throwing the human to the ground. In mid-air Thorn had grasped the man’s throat, sinking his teeth firmly into his flabby flesh… With cold golden eyes he straddled him, watching the dark liquid trickle from his mouth as the man choked on his own blood.
Kegg was numb with revulsion, unable to help any of them. All he could do… was watch wolves die! Tears rolled down his cheeks as his body shook uncontrollably.
Thorn looked up, his mouth dripping with blood, the human dead beneath him. His mind was ringing with the horror all around him, when an all-consuming rage tore his heart in two, as an axe was set in motion. Its flight tumbled through the air, hilt over metal, until it struck little Pleeth on her head. It was over before he’d moved, the weapon killing her instantly. Thorn could barely breathe as he charged at the man who’d thrown it, grasping his throat in his open jaws as blood filled his mouth.
Cutty, Frost, Ghost, Brindle and Shadow lay dead on the ground, and now the young pup Pleeth joined her kin. Humans had been killed too; three bodies lay sprawled on the ground, their blood soaking into the grass.
From somewhere came a peculiar howl, high-pitched and surreal. The strangeness of it brought Thorn back to reality, and he broke from the fight to see where the sound was coming from. Every wolf and human stopped too, startled by the strange noise.
It was Kegg who’d howled, distraught by what he’d seen… disbelieving what was happening right before his eyes. He’d darted from the safety of the shadows to run at full pelt down the hillside, heading back into the cover of the forest.
In that fleeting second, Thorn recognised Joel’s son, and seizing his chance gave a sharp yelp into the air. The surviving wolves reacted immediately, and grasping the three pups they all raced down the hillside and into the dense cover of the undergrowth.
They were running for their lives and didn’t stop until they felt safe. Everyone was panting hard.
Thorn surveyed his bedraggled pack. They had fought well but every member was injured to some degree. He growled deep within his chest, thinking about the six wolves who had lost their lives. The sight of his beloved Brindle falling in death stayed in his mind.
Little Mottle whimpered in Grazen’s jaws, where the big wolf had hold of her scruff.
Thorn looked round in panic. ‘Where are the other pups?’ he yelped.
The female Blaze stepped forward carrying Pip and gently placed him down on the ground.
‘We are here, Father!’ spluttered Pip, barely able to get the words out, ‘but Mother… and, and Pleeth… Are they really dead?’ he gasped, his little body shaking as tears rolled down his cheeks.
Thorn swallowed, trying to control his feelings, and padded over to him, then lowered his face and gently licked the top of Pip’s head.
‘Yes, my son… they are dead.’
Thorn’s gaze found Thindrel held in similar fashion in Pineweed’s jaws, his eyes downcast in sadness.
‘Are you all right, my son?’ he asked. The little pup slowly lifted his head.
‘Yes, Father… but Mother…’ he stuttered, unable to say any more.
Thorn’s heart ached not only for their loss but also his own. He turned to address his pack, lifting his chest as mounting anger threatened to consume him.
‘We have lost many good wolves today, including my beloved mate Brindle and little Pleeth!’ He paused, trying to steady his voice. ‘But we’ve killed humans too! Blood is on our paws. We have signed our own death warrants, for the repercussions of what we have done will find us! We will never stop paying for what we’ve done until we are all dead!’ He spoke in a voice so full of malice that little Pip shuddered and looked up at his father with fear in his eyes. Thorn looked down at his son again and his expression softened.
‘My son, we must leave… Find somewhere safe, where we can all live without fear. I promise you,’ he said. But then his tone changed to one of bitterness that their lives should end like this, and added, his eyes glaring, cold and full of hatred towards humans, ‘We must abandon our home… cross the river and leave our lands forever.’
***
Almost two hours after the incident, Max, Gus, Josh and Edmund arrived at the scene on foot. It was quiet now, although the terror was evident all around them. It looked like a battle zone, and Edmund’s heart ached for the deaths of men and wolves.
With disbelief he wandered into the clearing on the brow of the hill, numb at what had taken place there. His stomach muscles clenched uncomfortably as a surge of bile came up his throat and, unable to quell the feeling of nausea, he vomited where
he stood. Edmund felt wobbly standing there and pulled in a deep calming breath, discreetly wiping his mouth on the back of his sleeve.
He turned on shaky legs to survey the scene again, his eyes resting on Max kneeling and checking the bodies of the bloodied men sprawled on the ground. All three men were pronounced dead. And among the human bodies were six wolves: four mutilated by means of a knife or bludgeoned to death with a club, while two had received a clean shot to the head.
The air smelled ripe; blood and the stench of death was everywhere. Edmund couldn’t feel his feet as he wandered over to a small shape lying in a pool of blood. His eyes roamed over the mass of fur, trying to distinguish what it was. His throat tightened, recognising the disfigured face of a young puppy, its bloodshot eye staring blankly up at him.
Max glanced up.
‘Edmund! Go and sit over there,’ he ordered, pointing towards a bush a few yards away.
With stumbling feet he obeyed the chief ranger and made his way clumsily across the grass, his legs like lead. Beside the bush, Edmund crumpled heavily onto the ground, his head ringing incessantly as a weird sensation engulfed him. He felt debilitated, as though he’d been here himself and had taken part in this horrendous fight for survival. Mutely, he stared at Max. The ranger was talking urgently into the radio, and although he could see his lips moving no sounds escaped his mouth.
Closing his eyes, Edmund leaned against the thin branches of the bush, trying to quell the sickening feeling stirring inside him. He’d only been there a few seconds when something tickled his ear. Unthinking, he brushed it away, when he noticed, clinging to his fingers, a few fine hairs.
‘Golden hairs,’ he mumbled, staring at them. His brain whirled into action with the realisation that his wolf had been there.
‘Max! GoldenEars was here! We must find him!’ he yelled, suddenly finding the strength to stand up.
***
Kegg had left the site long ago, heading west towards the river. He was terrified, with no plan, only knowing that he must escape. He’d witnessed something terrible and self-preservation had kicked in.