The Glasgow Gray: Spot and Smudge - Book 2

by Robert Udulutch

  Hamish flipped around on the sled’s footboards and clicked off the pistol’s safety.

  He raised the ranger’s Glock. In the instant before he fired he could immediately see there was something terribly wrong with these wolves. They were huge, and lumpy, and bloody, and had thick streaks of black and red saliva streaming from the corners of their mouths. As they lunged through the snow on clubbed black paws he saw the look in their eyes was bloody demented.

  Ben leapt off the sled as it stopped and he spun to a kneeling shooting stance with the rifle socked into his shoulder. He didn’t bother with the scope covers as he clicked the safety off. He didn’t even use the sights. He just aimed the barrel as Harry had showed him with the assault rifles so it was a little bit in front of the wolf. He didn’t bother with his shooting mantra, either, he just exhaled, and pulled the trigger.

  Spot had flashed Ben a quick sign about Glasgow before he went over the front of the brush bar to unclip the sled dogs as fast as he could. He hopped from one set of Elkies to the next, releasing their harness carabiners with one fluid motion. The dogs pivoted and blasted back towards the sled as soon as they were free. T’nuc and K’cuf stomped the ground impatiently as Spot moved up the line towards them.

  Glasgow was still several bounds away and coming fast. She was approaching broadside to the sled, heading right for Ben.

  Smudge took two big steps and used the handlebar of the sled to launch herself over Hamish’s shoulder. She shook her snout as she gained height and her chest and shoulders swelled, becoming Cu Sith.

  Chapter 69

  A cell phone lit up and started to vibrate, and the ringtone that played was the Toronto Maple Leaf’s announcer Andy Frost screaming about Mats Sundlin’s five hundredth career goal.

  Blu rolled over and hunted around in the dark for the phone. It danced off the edge of her nightstand and bounced under the bed.

  “Shit,” she groaned as she rolled off the bed after it, thumping her knees hard on the bedroom rug.

  The Beave, her obese cat, got annoyed and jumped off the bed, using Blu’s back as a step stool. She waddled off to find a more hospitable place to nap.

  “Pinard here, what’s happened?” Blu said, after finally snagging the phone from under the bed and putting her hand down on an old but not completely dry hairball.

  She listened, and made a face as she pulled a tissue from the box on the nightstand to wipe off her fingers.

  She said, “Okay, yes, put him through.”

  Blu got up and sat on the bed. She could hear the wind whipping through the eaves and snow tapping on her dark bedroom window. The storm must have picked up again since she had gone to bed.

  “Yah, this is Captain Pinard. I’m sorry, what was your name again?” Blu asked as she put on her reading glasses and looked at the clock on her nightstand.

  “I see,” she said, “and what can we do for you Director Barton?”

  Chapter 70

  Ben hadn’t led the wolf enough. He had misjudged its speed and his shot grazed the wolf’s lower back. He cursed himself as he threw the bolt back and it chattered sloppily before he was able to chamber another round. He heard Lissa’s disappointed voice in his ear “…separates the real shootists from the panty crappers when the shit’s flying around you…”

  The rogue wolf only flinched, but it veered away and crossed behind its killing partner to head off towards the opposite woods in a crazy, bouncing run like a bucking bull coming out of a rodeo chute. Ben hadn’t put it down, but he had hurt it.

  Hamish hit his wolf center mass as it leapt at him, firing the two remaining bullets in the ranger’s Glock in rapid succession.

  The wolf’s momentum would have carried it crashing into his chest but Smudge landed on top of the massive animal first. The huge wolf and the muscular dog slammed into the snow and tumbled towards Hamish. He tried to jump over them but they hit his feet and he spun in the air and landed hard, face down in the deep snow.

  Smudge and the wolf careened into the sled and it skidded into Ben. Some of the Elkies hopped aside but it caught K’naks and T’sohg and sent them sprawling with a yelp.

  Smudge and the wolf were a whirling ball of biting and snapping as they continued fighting toward the river bank. The deranged animal made horrible killer sounds as it lunged and spit gray mucus. Smudge dodged and beat it backwards with fast strikes from her paws and shoves from her massive shoulder muscles. She pushed it away from Hamish and Ben as she probed for a place to strike. It was pumping blood from its chest wounds, but Smudge didn’t think they had done anything other than piss it off even more.

  Everything on the deformed animal felt too hard to make a good bite target. As the mad wolf snapped the air an inch from her nose Smudge got a face full of the gray vileness dripping from its snout. It was absolutely infected with whatever the horrible compound was in the drums at the Dorschstein farm. The same stuff that had poisoned Jerry and turned her into a monster.

  The animal’s war cry was unnerving to Ben, he thought it sounded more like a pack of wounded grizzlies then a wild dog. He fought the urge to put his hands over his ears as he got to his knees and brought up the rifle.

  E’sra had crunched down on the creature and taken away a chunk of red, slimy fur as it sped past him. As Smudge continued hammering away at it E’sra spat out the vile meat and led the mass of growling Elkies into the fray. They chased after Smudge and the howling rogue as they bit and clawed at each other through the deep snow.

  T’nuc stayed behind. She and Spot leapt out of the way as the mass of fur and noise roared by. They were watching the two other wolves.

  The big insane rogue Ben had grazed had turned around at the tree line and was tearing low through the snow, straight back towards the sled.

  Spot looked at Glasgow for an instant, and then barked for T’nuc to follow him. They turned away from the approaching gray wolf and bolted to intercept the rogue as fast as they could move in the deep powder.

  Glasgow was a few short leaps from Ben and still coming fast.

  Hamish tossed the empty gun and pulled his knife as he struggled to get to his knees.

  He watched Smudge pounding away at the wolf he’d shot, with E’sra and the rest of the Elkies in pursuit as they continued to beat it towards the river. He saw Spot and T’nuc running towards the other approaching rogue and then he turned to see Glasgow bearing down on Ben. She was flying over the deep snow with her black radio collar bouncing on her neck. Hamish tugged frantically to free a leg stuck deep in the snow.

  He watched Ben raising the rifle but the boy had it pointed in the wrong direction.

  Ben rested the rifle on the edge of the sled. As he lowered his head and flipped open the scope covers he hoped Spot was right. His dog had told him she wasn’t a danger so he had turned his back on the large mother wolf that was now only two big steps behind him.

  Glasgow leapt and Hamish pushed helplessly against the deep snow, reaching out as he yelled for Ben to duck.

  Glasgow landed next to Ben and pushed off again, clearing the sled in one fluid leap. She touched down softly in the snow on the opposite side of the sled and darted on towards Spot and T’nuc, and the approaching rogue.

  Hamish tried to sort out what he was seeing as Glasgow sped up and immediately gained ground and passed the smaller dogs, seemingly ignoring them as she closed on the rogue.

  He watched for a moment, letting the reality sink in before he was able to turn and say, “You got it, Ben?”

  “I got it, Unc,” Ben said against the stock of the rifle. He watched the wind direction in the falling snow and estimated the distance to the insane wolf, and reached up and twisted one of the scope’s adjustments.

  Glasgow’s bobbing head was in his way. Ben kept the crosshairs on her and waited for an opening. He whispered, “Move girl, move.”

  Hamish freed his boot and got to his feet, sheathing his knife as he walked around behind Ben. He paused long enough to reach into the sled and unclip
his axe. As he continued towards the river he tossed the leather blade cover over his shoulder and choked up on the handle as he stomped through the thigh-deep snow.

  Smudge and the rogue hit the slick rocks at the water’s edge. They both lost their footing and tumbled. Not wanting to let the beast get any distance between them, Smudge made a desperate lunge and grabbed its neck. She realized too late she’d made a horrible mistake. Her split paws just slipped through the greasy, blood-soaked fur. It left her face exposed and her momentum was driving her right into the rogue’s approaching fangs.

  The animal clamped down, tearing through neck muscle until it reached spine. It shattered bones with one huge twist of its massive, distorted head.

  It wasn’t Smudge’s neck the rogue had sunk its teeth into. E’sra had slammed into them and kicked Smudge clear of its lethal bite.

  Smudge spun to her feet in the shallow, freezing water. She saw the rogue give E’sra one last violent shake before dropping his limp body into the river and turning to face the half circle of snarling Elkies.

  Smudge dove in between them and ordered the sled dogs back with a short but deafening bark over her shoulder. As the rogue shot forward for a bite Smudge willed a massive shot of adrenaline into her front right shoulder muscles and clocked the beast under its chin with a teeth-rattling uppercut.

  The rogue stumbled back a few steps into the river and scrambled to get its footing on the slick boulders. Blood poured from the wounded animal’s chest and mouth as it stood panting out puffs of red and black. The rogue’s mad eyes darted from Smudge to the Elkies. It hissed and spat at them.

  Smudge could barely make out its twisted rantings. It was similar to the caged wolves, but a choppy, truncated, crazed version. The intent was clear enough and she was pretty sure it was coming out as, Kill you all, kill you all. I am going to rip you all to pieces, over and over and over.

  As Hamish approached the bank of the river he saw E’sra’s body floating in the shallow water with a trail of far too much blood flowing away from his torn fur. The rest of the team looked to be unharmed. They were clearly enraged and lowered to pounce, but they were also stone quiet and Smudge had placed herself between them and the rogue.

  As he approached the water Hamish noticed every time the bleeding wolf stepped forward to snap Smudge would either smack it across the face or head butt it under the chin hard enough to make the animal’s hind legs buckle.

  Smudge turned and looked up at Hamish. She nodded to E’sra, and then she noticed the axe in Hamish’s hand. He nodded back at her.

  Smudge turned back to face the wolf. Her pumped-up forelimb flexed and her cupped split paw splashed water in the rogue’s face. She yapped in an accent she felt was close enough to its crazed vitriol, and it was clear the rogue understood her when she said, You think I hit hard? Just you wait, fucker.

  Hamish ran his hands over K’cuf and T’raf as he stepped into the river and came up beside Smudge. He buried his fingers into the fluffy hair of her solid neck. The dog was all muscle. It rippled and flexed under her fur. The muscles ran all the way down Smudge’s muzzle and it looked like her snout had a six pack. Hamish pulled her head to his thigh and gave her a firm rub before letting her go. He looked at the wolf, and the long shaft of the axe slid through his hand until the sharp blade stopped just above the water.

  Back in the glade the other rogue skidded to a stop and backtracked a few steps in the snow. Glasgow had reached him and he had fully intended to teach her a lesson about loyalty before he tore open the little dogs behind her, but his sub-female wolf fixed him with a look that stopped him in his tracks.

  The rogue had never seen such intensity from her. She was successfully posturing as an alpha. Her lips were pulled back and her fangs chattered with rage. She widened her eyes and raised her head above his.

  Glasgow growled at him, This ends now.

  Spot and T’nuc fanned out and flanked the stomping Glasgow.

  The lead Elkhound had her head low, teeth bared, and her curled tail stuck out arrow straight behind her. Spot was impressed, the normally calm sled leader looked plenty pissed and ready to kick some serious ass.

  Spot unzipped a pocket on his vest and pulled out the red pocket lock blade. With one of his dexterous pads he flicked the blade out.

  T’nuc saw it, and turned to snap a bark at the rogue. Spot noticed the smart Elkhound had changed her tone and accent to approximate that of Glasgow, and the rogue seemed to grasp the meaning. Your killing days are over, time for you to die, T’nuc barked.

  The rogue couldn’t fathom what was happening. The insubordination of his breeding female and the arrogance of these strange little owned animals was too much. He clawed the snow and spat bile. He shot forward and feigned a bite to the little dog but then lunged straight at Glasgow’s throat.

  She sidestepped deftly and let his mouth snap shut inches from its target. She’d been watching how the rogues attack and knew this one always faked and then made a side lunge when he was most agitated.

  Glasgow let his lumpy body move past her and she slid around him, coming back from behind his ear to clamp down on his neck.

  Spot lunged low and came up under the wolf’s chin, biting hard and reaching under the animal with the blade. He was trying to open up its undercarriage but his forelimbs weren’t long enough. He only hit ribs. He stabbed rapid fire, trying to slip the knife into something important.

  T’nuc shot past them and wrapped herself around the wolf’s hind quarters, forcing its back feet into the snow and stopping its forward movement. She reared back and bit down hard on the bullet wound on its rump

  The wolf let out a horrible, raving howl. It frantically twisted as it tried to attack. Glasgow’s bite slid over rocky muscle and she took away a chunk of slimy fur. The rogue got a paw behind her and shoved her down into the snow in front of him. Ignoring the frantically stabbing and biting Spot, he moved Glasgow into position for a face bite.

  Just as the rogue opened its jaws to sink them down into Glasgow, Spot let go of the knife and reached up, putting his split paws around the huge wild dog’s bloody throat.

  Spot’s fingers slid over tough, slick, fur covered lumps. There was no way to strangle the animal.

  The rogue wolf looked down at the pathetic little dog and bared an awful, crazy, dripping grin.

  It growled and Spot clearly made out, Now what, runt?

  Spot planted his rear feet on Glasgow, using her as a base as he pushed her down into the powdery snow. He flooded his system with adrenaline and pushed the rogue’s head up as high as he could. As his paws clamped down on its neck he stiffened his whole body, locking his muscles and holding the struggling rogue’s head perfectly still.

  Ben slowly let out his breath, and as ‘Yeh cannae shove yer granny from the bus’ played in his head he pulled the trigger with one smooth, practiced motion of his index finger. He watched through the scope as one of the rogue’s eyes split and the top of its head sprayed out in a puff of black and gray.

  The rogue at the river flew into a rage when its assassin partner fell.

  It was time to end this human’s pitiful posturing, these controlled sled dogs taunts, and the feeble blows from this odd, swelled runt. It hurt to breath and he needed to kill and eat. He needed to finish this and go discipline his female.

  The angry rogue roared at the dog in front of him, You’ll suffer the most. I’m gonna snap you in half like I did to that other runt.

  The rogue crouched and pushed off hard. He faked a snap at the dog, picked a landing place on the human’s chest, and a target on his furry neck to bite down on.

  Just as the insane animal leapt, dripping a trail of black spittle and blood on the river bank, Smudge opened her paws and grabbed the wild dog’s clubbed front feet. She twisted under it and pulled down hard. The rogue’s chin smacked down on a boulder in front of Hamish and the animal looked up, disbelieving as it scrambled to get a rear foot hold on the icy rocks.

  Hamish ste
pped forward and swung the axe in a wide overhand arc. He buried it into the rogue’s skull, drawing a spark from the rock below its head.

  Chapter 71

  Spot and T’nuc pulled the dead wolf aside as Glasgow got to her feet. Spot retrieved his blade and wiped it off on the rogue’s fur while the big female wolf shook off a cloud of snow.

  Spot looked across the field and nodded to Ben, and then looked down at the river bank. When he read Smudge’s face and the posture of the other Elkies his tail dropped. Spot turned to tell T’nuc she had better go check on her team but she was already on her way to the river.

  Glasgow took a few steps back and started to turn towards the woods.

  Wait, Spot said, trying to mimic the caged wolves’ accent as he moved in front of the huge female wolf, Please just wait. Don’t go yet.

  The big wolf stopped. She stared down at the curious captive dog, and then she turned to watch the humans and the rest of the dogs at the riverbank.

  Spot also turned to watch as Smudge and Hamish pulled E’sra’s body from the river just as Ben arrived with one of the fur blankets from the sled.

  As Hamish carried the bundle away from the river with Ben and a line of Elkies following, Smudge left the procession to join Spot and the big gray wolf. She silently rubbed against her brother, and then approached Glasgow just as the caged wolves had first approached her. The wolf accepted her introductory cheek rub, and returned it with a stiff snort the pups read as a sign of peer hunter respect.

  After a few minutes of tweaking their growls, yaps, and body language, they were covering ground pretty quickly.

  They asked Glasgow about her alpha, and her pack.

  The wolf stared at them for a long while before slowly explaining what had happened. How it had started with the rogues’ sudden appearance in the forest and the senseless animal killings, and then her pack’s slaughter at the river. Smudge found her story harder to listen to than the wolves’ at the mine. This poor animal had lost everything in a flash of insane violence. Spot and Smudge understood how she had given up, and how the rogues wouldn’t let her go. She also told them about her horrible mistake with the rangers, and about the tragedy with the skiers and the fate of their leader who walked into the river.