Marked In Flesh (The Others #4)

by Anne Bishop

  Jackson wrote a phone number on the pad of paper next to the phone. “Call this number. Keep trying until someone answers. Tell whoever answers, even if it’s a human, that the Wolves have to hide. They have to hide or they’re going to die.”

  “Where are you going?”

  “To warn the Intuits. Hope saw their village burning.”

  Shifting back to Wolf, Jackson raced down the road. It wasn’t just Intuits who needed help in that village. There were the four surviving prophet pups living there too.

  CHAPTER 35

  Firesday, Juin 22

  Joe pushed for all the speed he had.

 

  Too angry. Not listening. He’d been chosen as leader of the terra indigene settlement because of his contact with Simon and the Lakeside Courtyard, because they needed someone now to actively deal with the Prairie Gold humans. But being the leader of the settlement wasn’t the same as being the dominant Wolf. The pack had just proved that by ignoring his command.

  That slowed the other Wolves who had been racing toward men so focused on shooting bison that they didn’t seem to notice the angry Wolves bearing down on them.

  The pack’s dominant enforcer slowed to a trot.

 

  More Wolves slowed down. The hunters among them were more reluctant to let the humans continue killing the meat the pack would need, but the enforcers, who had the job of protecting the pack, turned away from the humans standing in the beds of the pickup trucks and headed toward Joe.

  Then they stopped, took a step back. Like them, Joe felt the thunder that meant only one thing: bison stampede.

  Gunshots and shouts behind him. Behind the bison. Humans were driving the bison toward the pickup trucks, and the Wolves were caught in between.

  Joe shouted. The Wolves turned and ran toward the trucks and the bison that were already dead. Big bodies. Pressed against the belly, a Wolf might escape being shot—might escape being trampled. They had no chance in the open.

  They ran toward the trucks and the men. Had to reach the dead bison before . . .

  The men stopped shooting. Moving swiftly, a man lowered the tailgate of one of the pickup trucks while another man pulled a tarp off something that looked like a heavy rifle mounted on three legs. What . . . ?

  The hunters, who were at the head of the pack, were the first to fall as the heavy rifle spit bullets that thudded into bodies too fast for the Wolves to change direction. And behind them, the bison thundered closer and closer, driven by other humans.

  Now some of the men raised their rifles toward the sky, aiming for the Ravens and Hawks.

  Joe yelled at the Ravens and Hawks. He felt the thud, thud, thud. His front legs slipped and he tumbled. Had to get away from the stampeding bison. Had to . . .

  He got his hind legs under him and tried to leap, gain some distance between him and those hooves.

  More thud, thud, thud that hit a hind leg and his side.

  He tumbled again, one of his hind legs now useless. Still struggling to move, he managed to crawl until he was partially hidden by one of the dead bison.

  So hard to breathe. So hard to . . .

  He didn’t really feel the hooves as bison trampled his back legs. He barely heard the triumphant shouts of the humans or the gunfire that turned the bison away from the trucks.

  He didn’t notice the silence.

  How had Meg, so far away in Lakeside, known this was a trap? What would she have seen?

  Could barely hear. Could barely breathe.

  “This one’s still alive.”

  “Not for long. Throw the carcass in with the rest.”

  Being dragged by his forelegs. Then lifted and tossed.

  What had Meg seen? How had she known one Wolf from another?

  She had seen me in Lakeside. She would remember my face.

  Couldn’t shift all the way to human. He didn’t have the strength for that. But if Simon and Jackson saw him somehow, if Meg saw him now, they would know, would be . . . warned, could . . . escape other traps.

  He made strange sounds as he tried to breathe, tried to change from Wolf to human form. He saw his hand, mostly human now at the end of a furry foreleg. He felt his face changing.

  He felt a blow to the back of his head.

  • • •

  “Do you want us to pull this one off the pile, boss?” a man asked. “His face is halfway humanlooking.”

  Daniel Black glanced at the body of the last Wolf thrown on the heap of carcasses. “Leave him. That’s proof we eliminated the enemy and not just a few dumb animals.” He stepped away from the pile of dead Wolves and held out a hand. “Give me that camera. I’ll take a couple of pictures of you boys standing up for humans everywhere.”

  They gathered on either side of the mound, rifles raised in triumph while Black took the pictures. He wouldn’t be the only man making a record of this historic day. Men from dozens of HFL chapters throughout the Midwest and Northwest had participated in the third stage of the land reclamation project.

  He wouldn’t be the only man who sent one or two photos to the newspaper. But, by the gods, he and his men would be among those best rewarded for this day’s work.

  “Now,” Black said, looking in the direction of the hills and the town called Prairie Gold. “Let’s finish this and claim what should have been ours all along.”

  As he and his men headed back to their trucks, he didn’t notice the absence of all birds—and he didn’t notice the silence.

  • • •

  Nothing he could have done against a bison stampede, Tolya thought bitterly as he raced above the grass. He could have slowed one animal, or caught and killed one of the riders driving the animals. But that wouldn’t have saved the Wolves. All he could do now was return to Prairie Gold and do whatever he could to help the Intuits save the town.

  Wind stirred the grass. A shimmer of heat appeared just ahead of him. He rose to a column of smoke before shifting to human.

  Two of the Elementals who watched over this piece of Thaisia took form in front of him. Air and Fire sat astride two of their steeds—one white, one brown.

  Was there something the Elementals could have done to stop this? Pointless to ask. Dangerous even for a Sanguinati to say anything that might sound like an accusation.

  And maybe the Elementals were never meant to stop this fight between Others and humans any more than they were meant to interfere with any two predators who were fighting over the same territory. But the Elementals at Lakeside had helped Simon. Elementals in another part of the Midwest had helped destroy the Controller and the terrible place where he had caged some of the sweet blood. Maybe the Elementals here would work with him now. After all, Air had helped Joe when he shipped the bison meat to Simon.

  “The humans,” Tolya said. “They’re going to burn down the Intuits’ town. They’re going to try to kill all the young Jesse Walker is taking into the hills for protection.”

  “How do you know this?” Fire finally asked.

  “Meg Corbyn spoke prophecy and warned Jesse Walker.”

  “Broomstick Girl?”

  So Charlie Crowgard’s song about Meg defending a Wolf had reached this far west. “Yes. Meg, the Trailblazer. Friend to the terra indigene in Lakeside.”

  “Our eastern kin know her,” Air said. “She saved the ponies who live in the Lakeside Courtyard.”

  Tolya nodded. Then he waited.

  Air looked up as some of the Ravengard flew by. “The humans who killed the Wolves. The Ravens say some are from the town and some . . .” She looked at Fire and smiled. “How many bison died?”

  Fire just returned her smile.

  Something about those smiles gave Tolya a sudden understanding of why the Elementals shouldn’t be encouraged to become too involved in the lives of beings who were mor
e anchored to flesh than their form of terra indigene.

  Air and Fire said nothing as they turned their steeds toward the ranches that lay between the Intuit town of Prairie Gold and the human town of Bennett.

  Shifting back to smoke, Tolya continued on to Prairie Gold. As he reached the truck stop at the edge of town, he saw a bolt of lightning strike the ground in the north and judged that it had hit something near the crossroads.

  He kept going until he reached Walker’s General Store. Men hurried over to meet him as soon as he shifted to human form.

  “They’re dead,” he said. “The Wolves are dead.”

  “Ah, damn,” Floyd Tanner said softly, sorrowfully. “Even Joe?”

  Tolya nodded. He wouldn’t tell these men how the Wolves died. Not yet.

  “We’re sorry for your loss,” Kelley Burch said after a moment’s silence. “We all liked Joe.”

  “He was a good leader,” Tolya said. And maybe, in the same way that Simon Wolfgard is with Vlad, he could have been a good friend.

  He didn’t appreciate how much the loss saddened these humans until he saw the change in their faces and bodies and realized that they were, for now, setting aside grief.

  Phil Mailer cleared his throat. “I guess we’d better prepare for the rest of the prophecy. I’ve warned every Intuit village or settlement I could. Got a response from Steve Ferryman at Ferryman’s Landing. He’s sending out the alarm too. He didn’t have the feeling that all Intuit places would be in danger. A lot of our settlements are too deep in the wild country to be reached easily by other humans. But he also felt that the farther the warning could be spread, the less likely one of our villages would be caught unawares.”

  Tolya nodded. Then he looked north and pointed. “I don’t think we’re the ones who will have to worry about fire.”

  • • •

  The fire funnel raced over the land, and everything burned in its wake. Wind whipped the flames that consumed fence posts and grass—and cattle—as the funnel headed for the ranch buildings still in the distance.

  • • •

  As they neared the crossroads, Daniel Black saw lightning strike the lead pickup’s cab with a marksman’s accuracy as a sudden gust of wind hit the pickup with enough force to shove it off the road.

  The other trucks pulled over and men ran to help their comrades.

  Black stepped out of his pickup. “They hurt?” he called to the men.

  They backed away from the lead pickup.

  “They’re dead.” One of the men, who had looked so triumphant a short while ago, looked frightened now.

  Shouldn’t be dead. Rubber tires. Grounding. That was supposed to protect a person in a lightning storm, wasn’t it? How could his men be dead?

  Then Black saw the funnel that appeared out of nowhere, and felt the first shiver of fear.

  “By all the dark gods,” he whispered.

  “Boss?”

  He looked at his foreman. Then he reached into his truck, pulled out the camera, and handed it to the man. “Tell the sheriff about this. Get someone out here to deal with . . . the men. Then get those pictures to the newspaper. You got that?” He waited until the foreman pulled away with reckless speed before turning to the rest of his men. “Come with me. We have to get to the ranch ahead of that thing and save what we can.”

  The men looked at the funnel, then at him.

  “Move!” Black scrambled into the pickup. The men piled into the cab and into the bed, their only choice if they didn’t want to be left behind.

  He put the truck in gear. Then he hesitated. They couldn’t outrun that twister. He wouldn’t get to the ranch house in time. He should go the other way and finish his assignment, burn out that town of freaks.

  “What the fuck . . . ?” one of his men shouted moments before hail the size of his fist struck the pickup, hammering metal and glass. The windshield cracked. His men riding in the pickup’s bed cried out in pain as they tried to shield themselves.

  A warm day in summer. No storm clouds. No clouds of any kind. And yet there was that damn funnel heading toward everything he’d built, and now this storm.

  He looked at his side mirror and thought he saw a horse and rider racing toward him, taking no notice of the punishing hail. As they passed his truck, he saw a shape so shrouded by the storm he wasn’t sure if he’d just imagined seeing figures. And yet the storm turned with no rational explanation and headed for the freaks’ town, filling the road with hail. Then it slowed, stopped moving.

  Waited.

  If he headed for Prairie Gold, his men might be exposed to that storm the whole way and would be injured and useless by the time they reached the town. Of course, if they got caught by the twister or the fire, they wouldn’t be much good either. But at least they’d be trying to save something.

  Black headed for his ranch.

  • • •

  Jesse followed a wide game trail. By the time her people had reached the terra indigene settlement, the Ravens and Hawks had already spread the news about the humans killing the Wolves. Surprisingly, the adults in the settlement had no objection to her taking the Wolfgard young with her to the hiding place Joe Wolfgard had arranged. In fact, all the young from the settlement were with her. Fledglings from the Owl, Raven, Hawk, and Eagle gards were riding on human shoulders or on the backs of juvenile Wolves—or were balanced on the packs they’d loaded onto two burros.

  When she had time—if she lived—she’d ponder the oddity of Wolves keeping a handful of burros as pack animals, and what it said about the Others that the burros knew they didn’t need to fear these predators.

  “Jesse?” Shelley gasped behind her. “Jesse? We need to stop. We need a rest break.”

  “We’ll rest when we get there.” Couldn’t be much farther. Joe had said a couple of miles beyond the terra indigene settlement. Water. Shelter. A spot that could be defended.

  Which could mean it was also a spot that, if overrun by an enemy, wouldn’t give them any way out. The humans, anyway.

  “Arroo,” Rachel said softly, suddenly trotting ahead of Jesse.

  The youngster had stayed close to her throughout the journey. Jesse wasn’t sure if Rachel was helping to act as a scout or if the Wolf wanted to be near any adult she recognized.

  The only adult Wolf who had been left at the settlement was the pack’s nanny. The rest of the adults had gone out to deal with the humans and had died.

  The pups are orphans now, all of them, Jesse thought.

  “Jesse?” Abigail Burch this time. “Can’t we stop a minute? The children are tired.”

  Tired was better than dead.

  Jesse hesitated when Rachel rushed back to her. But the Wolf seemed excited, relieved. A couple of minutes later, Jesse shared that relief. Water flowed into a pool before the creek continued down the hills to the settlement. There were rocks that provided shelter, and trees that would provide shade. Couldn’t make a fire here because they were in the wild country. Joe had warned her about that. But they could huddle up in blankets to keep warm if they had to stay up here overnight.

  Once they had set up camp, she would figure out where they could set up the latrine—and where to picket the burros.

  “We’re here,” she said, moving aside. “Step lively, now. Everybody in.”

  Not all the Prairie Gold women had come with them. A few had sent messages that they’d had a feeling they needed to stay at the farms and help look after the animals. But they had sent their children. In truth, they had a point. Meg Corbyn hadn’t said to hide the women, just the children. Just the Wolves.

  Feeling Rachel pressed against her leg, trembling, Jesse felt a pang of grief as she remembered Joe standing outside the general store, ready to step in if needed but allowing Rachel to make her first foray into a human store on her own. Jesse hadn’t had time to get to know him well, and she regretted that. Working together, they could have bridged the differences between terra indigene and Intuits, could have built a partnership the
same way other places were trying to do.

  Rachel whined.

  “Hush up,” Jesse snapped at the women and children whose voices had been steadily rising. Stepping into the gap between rocks, she raised her rifle, prepared to fire.

  The women fell silent or frantically tried to hush the children.

  Nothing. Nothing. Except the pack’s nanny had led the puppies to a hiding place behind a fallen tree. Except Rachel stood at her side, panting and trembling.

  Nothing but an odd silence.

  Then something shimmered on the game trail. Something her eyes couldn’t quite see.

  Something big.

  “That’s far enough,” she warned.

  A wet snarl—more a feel in the air than an actual sound.

  “We have permission to be here, and we’re staying until I’m told it’s safe to bring the youngsters back to their homes.”

  Rachel suddenly shifted, now a human teenage girl crouching beside her. “Jesse Walker is our friend. She . . . was Joe Wolfgard’s friend.”

  Where do you aim when you can’t see? That dark glint. Was that an eye? Gods, how big was that thing?

  It took a step closer. She couldn’t see it, but she knew it had moved closer.

  “If you’re one of the terra indigene who lives in these hills, then you should know why we came up here, should know what happened to the Wolves.” Jesse took a slow breath. “We’ve lost enough friends today. In that, I think, you and I are the same. So I’m telling you now that the only way anyone is taking any of these youngsters away from here is if I’m dead and can’t fight for them anymore.”

  Hesitation. Then it was gone.

  Jesse didn’t know how anything that big could move that quickly or that silently, but she could feel it was gone.

  “The Elders will watch the trail,” Rachel whispered. “We’ll be safe here tonight and can go . . . home . . . in the morning.”

  Jesse lowered the rifle. “That was an Elder?”

  “Yes. They are old forms of terra indigene. They are Namid’s teeth and claws.”

  Namid’s teeth and claws. I believe that. I surely do. Gods above and below. “They live in the hills?”