Scary Stories for Young Foxes

by Christian McKay Heidicker

  Her mind flashed back to that moment in the forest. The moment when Miss Potter had crouched, holding Mia out by her scruff, and Mia’s mom had refused to come closer. Mia wouldn’t have hesitated in that moment. If she had seen the thing that had taken Bizy, she would have ripped out its throat, even if it put Mia in danger.

  Mia remembered the night in Miss Potter’s house. The night Mia’s tongue had hung too heavy to speak and her mom had howled outside the door. Her mom had grieved for Mia’s death without even seeing with her own two eyes whether Mia was still alive or not.

  Mia got up. She refused to believe Bizy was gone. Not until she saw with her own two eyes. She left the shivering kits behind and limped around the den, sniffing for clues. There was nothing but rocks and roots and frost. No fur. No blood. No droppings.

  Then she remembered the frozen fox outside.

  She reached beneath the icicles, grabbed its tail, and worked it out of the snow, dragging it into the den.

  Mia stared at the body. “How did you die?”

  She sniffed it, tail to muzzle, searching for puncture wounds. There were none. She sniffed its ears for signs of sickness. Nothing. Finally, she pawed at its muzzle, and its jaws fell open. Caught in the fox’s teeth was a tuft of white fur.

  When Mia was young, Miss Vix had taught her and her siblings about camouflage. Some hunters are nearly impossible to see, because they have dirt-colored fur, or stripes that blend with the swaying grasses.

  Or, Mia thought, white fur that blends with a snowy landscape.

  She stared into the blizzard.

  If she couldn’t see the thing’s white fur in the snow, and the frost erased its scent, how could she track it? The kits whimpered, making Mia feel even more hopeless. If she went outside to search, the thing could slip back into the den and steal another kit.

  She wouldn’t let that happen.

  She picked up the kits, one by one, and moved them to the entrance. Roa. Alfie. Marley. Uly Junior.

  “I’m sorry, my littles,” she said as they trembled in the icy gusts. “We have to get your sister back.”

  She left the shivering kits in the entrance and slipped back into the den’s shadows, where she lay down. She closed her eyes and waited.

  * * *

  It didn’t take long.

  The air bloomed with a moldy-sweet scent.

  Through the blur of her lashes, Mia saw it. The creature looked like a bit of winter had grown eyes and teeth. It walked in jerks and stops and was so skinny it resembled a fuzzy skeleton.

  The thing sniffed at Mia’s ear, its breath hot. Her lips wanted to curl. Her hackles wanted to rise. She kept still.

  The thing padded to the pile of kits and plucked Marley up in its white jaws. Against the snowy entrance, the kit looked like he was floating. Mia could barely keep from snarling as Marley mewled and writhed in the air and then was swept beneath the icicles.

  It was only then that she got up. Quick as she could, she placed the three remaining kits under their frozen mother’s fur for safekeeping.

  Mia set out into the night.

  TWELVE

  MR. SCRATCH CAME after Uly like a storm.

  Uly ran faster than he ever had, but with only three paws and a mouthful of mice, he was too slow. His father chomped his tail, nipped his thigh, and bit into his spine so hard Uly saw red.

  The only reason Uly managed to stay slightly ahead of his father was that he was light on his three paws and didn’t break through the frozen layer. Mr. Scratch’s paws crunched through the ice, but it didn’t slow him much. He bounded up and down through the snow, panting fog through his bared fangs.

  Uly had to lose him. He ran along the bank of the river and then scrambled into the pine grove, his father not far behind. Uly leapt onto the bridge and over the hole he’d fallen through. Then he turned around and faced his father.

  Mr. Scratch raged across the bridge, and as Uly had hoped, the snow gave out beneath him, devouring his hind legs. Uly’s dad snarled and snapped before the snow shifted again and he was swallowed in white.

  Uly didn’t wait to catch his breath. He slipped out of the grove before his dad had a chance to recover on the frozen river below. Uly bounded across the snowy mounds, sniffed out the earthen den, and wriggled under the icicles.

  He dropped the mice. “Mia?”

  He panted as his eyes adjusted to the darkness.

  Three kits trembled and whimpered under the fur of a dead fox.

  THIRTEEN

  MARLEY HAD VANISHED in the flurries.

  Mia searched, panicking. The thing was out there somewhere—its white fur hidden in the snow. She hobbled and sniffed until she caught a faint, salty scent. She followed it to a single drop of red—bright on the snow’s crust.

  Marley.

  She sniffed again, trying to find more of the kit’s blood before the flurries covered it up. A few tails away, she found another drop. This blood was fresher, still steaming. She refused to think about what it meant. Not while she could still act. She drew a mental line from the den, through the first red drop and the second, and then she sniffed along it until she found another, then another and another …

  She saw him. Baby Marley, floating through the blizzard. Mia kept her distance, stepping carefully in case the white-furred thing heard her crunching paws and fled. It was almost too much, seeing the kit writhe in discomfort. But Mia reminded herself that because the thing was camouflaged, its scent lost in the winter freeze, this was the only way she could find Bizy.

  Marley’s wriggling body cut a strange path across the frozen expanse. He bobbed through the gales, floating up snowy mounds and down the other side. Finally, the kit vanished into the pine grove.

  Mia hesitated outside the trees, heart shaking.

  “Peaches and centipedes,” she told herself, breathless. “If I go into this wood and fight this thing, Marley and Bizy will be able to taste peaches and centipedes.”

  She took a deep breath and then entered the grove.

  The snow glowed in the darkness. Mia’s ears swiveled, but all she heard was the light tap of snowflakes and the icy trickle of the river. Then something faint caught her eye. A chunk of white detached itself from the bank. It slid upriver, toward the bridge Mia and Uly had crossed. Marley whimpered in the white thing’s jaws.

  Mia crept to the bank, crouching behind the snow piles. The white thing hitched the baby kit deeper in its teeth and was about to slip beneath the bridge when Mia threw back her head and howled.

  The thing whirled, dropping Marley on the bank. It bounded back to the drifts, where its fur was camouflaged. Mia kept an eye on the area as she leapt down the bank onto the frozen part of the river, her claws making the ice groan. She moved under the shadow of the snowy bridge.

  There was Marley, quivering, tail to toes.

  Mia let out a whimper of relief as she worried over his tiny head. His bones were unbroken. There were no tears in his skin. It turned out he had nothing more than a nosebleed, his poor tiny nostrils cracking in the dry winter air. She wanted nothing more than to carry him back to the den to be with his siblings. But she still had to find Bizy.

  Mia set Marley in a divot on the riverbank. “Stay here.”

  She crept under the pine bridge, looking back to check on Marley every other step. As her eyes adjusted, she saw that the riverbank was littered with the bodies of animals—torn apart in horrific ways. She held her breath, hoping not to see Bizy’s body among them.

  Mia crept deeper into the darkness until her nose caught a familiar scent.

  “Bizy?”

  “Aowr aowr aowr.”

  Mia followed the whimpers to the frosted wall of the riverbank. There was Bizy. Alive. Her little tongue poking out.

  Tears of relief melted the ice on Mia’s cheeks. She licked the baby kit’s ears.

  “I’m so sorry, Bizy. Sorry I let it take you. You’re safe now. You’re—”

  Mia gasped when she found the puncture wound in Bizy’
s side. The baby kit trembled as the life trickled out of her.

  Mia’s voice started to quake. “Shh. Mama’s here now. We’ll get you home, Bizy. We’ll get you back. Hold on.”

  There came a small whine from the riverbank. Mia looked toward Marley, and her breath stopped short.

  The white creature had crept up on her. It stood between her and Marley, hunched and bristling. It was a fox, with fur as white as snow. It stared at Mia through black, gooey eyes.

  “I don’t want to fight you,” she said. “I just want to take these kits and leave.”

  The fox’s breath rasped, as tangled as a spider’s nest. Its head twitched left, then right.

  Klik … klik klik.

  The sound woke the nerves in Mia’s tail. She sniffed. This close, the fox’s moldy-fruit scent crept up her nostrils and stirred up memories she did not want stirred.

  The scent wasn’t quite yellow.

  It wasn’t quite apples.

  It was both.

  Klik … klikklik klik.

  Mia studied the fox’s face—his curled lip giving him a confused look …

  “Roa?”

  Klikklikklik … klik klik.

  Mia barely recognized her brother. His body had been ravaged by the yellow disease. His eyes were narrowed to gooey slits. His legs and tail were all chewed up, and his guard hair had grown in patches of white and gray.

  “Roa,” Mia said, eyes burning. “It’s me. It’s Mia.”

  Roa’s head jerked side to side, moving as if some invisible thing were yanking his whiskers. His jaw shivered, making the same awful clicks their teacher’s had on that sweltering day. Klik klikklikklik klik.

  “How…,” Mia asked. “How did you survive this long?”

  Something caught in Roa’s throat, and his body convulsed. He was clearly in pain. Mia wanted to clean his fur, to soothe his snarling lips and gnawed limbs. But she couldn’t go near him.

  More tears streamed down her whiskers. “I’m so sorry, Roa. I’m sorry I left you to be chased by Miss Vix. I didn’t know what else to do. I was scared.”

  A cold wind howled. The thing in Roa’s throat cleared, and his body jerked forward, his cracked claws clicking on the ice. He snarled toward Mia in wobbles and halts. She backed up until her tail hit the embankment.

  “Please, Ro,” she said. “Don’t do this.”

  If her brother’s fangs broke her skin, she would catch the yellow. Her thoughts would be overwhelmed with murderous voices, and all foxes would look like food to her. Marley. Bizy. The kits in the den. Uly.

  Still, her brother came, rickety, toward her.

  “Okay, Roa,” she said. “Okay.”

  Mia started to circle her brother, as if they were going to fight. But her hackles didn’t rise. Her lips didn’t curl. Some instinct in her brother made him circle too. With each rotation, Roa grew closer to one of the babies—first Bizy, then Marley, then Bizy.

  Marley whimpered, and Roa’s head jerked toward him.

  “No!” Mia said, drawing her brother’s gooey eyes back to her. “That’s it, Ro. Just look at me.”

  She glanced at the half-eaten kills on the riverbank. He hadn’t killed Bizy, like he had the other creatures. Was it because he’d recognized that she was a baby fox and spared her? Was her brother still in there somewhere? Beneath the white fur and the yellow stench?

  “Roa?” Mia said, circling. “Can you understand me?”

  Roa answered with his teeth. Klik klikklikklik klik.

  “Neither of us has to get hurt,” she said, jaw shaking. “We can return to the Eavey Wood. You can marry Miss Vix and start an adorable little d—”

  Roa lunged. But before he could bite her, a figure fell from above. Roa whirled, snarling at the newcomer. Mia saw the dark fur, sniffed the lilac scent, and for a brief moment thought it was Uly. But then she saw the wild eyes, the dripping blood …

  Mr. Scratch shook the snow from his coat and looked at Mia. “I thought I smelled something familiar…”

  He saw Roa and took a step back. Mia’s heart was in a panic. Mr. Scratch stood between her and Marley. Roa stood between her and Bizy. She had to find a way to get the babies to safety.

  “Roa,” Mia said, trying to find her brother beneath the yellow scent. “Help me fight him. Please.”

  Something flashed in Roa’s eyes. Something beneath the goo. He stepped toward Mr. Scratch and snarled.

  “This is my brother,” Mia told Mr. Scratch. “He has the yellow disease. If he bites you, then you’ll become even meaner and grosser than you already are.”

  Mr. Scratch nodded. “So it is, then.”

  Before Mia’s brother could attack, Mr. Scratch lunged and clamped onto one of Roa’s bone-thin legs, ripping it out from under him. Roa thudded onto the ice, his fangs snapping at Mr. Scratch’s throat. Mr. Scratch continued to hold Roa’s leg, pinning him down, keeping away from his biting muzzle. But as foam and spit flecked upward, Mr. Scratch leaned back, trying to keep it from entering his wounds. His teeth loosened around Roa’s leg, and Roa lashed out, catching Mr. Scratch’s eye with his teeth.

  Mr. Scratch screeched. He sank his teeth into Roa’s throat and shook until Mia’s brother’s breath came gurgled and whimpering. Mr. Scratch released him, and Roa rounded to his paws and shuffled out from under the pine bridge, his white fur vanishing into the snows.

  Mr. Scratch panted, drool dripping pink from his lips. Mia snarled and raised her hackles. She could end this. But she had to be careful. Her brother had bitten the lord of the Lilac Kingdom. If Mr. Scratch’s infected fangs pierced her skin, it would all be over.

  Mr. Scratch saw her approaching and tried to laugh. It came out as a cough.

  “Pity,” he said, limping away. “And here I am in no condition to fight.” He hobbled to Marley on the bank. “No, I believe I’ll just take this kit and be on my way.” His eyes flashed to Mia. “I don’t think I need to tell you what will happen if you come anywhere near me.”

  Mia watched, helpless, as Mr. Scratch picked the baby up by the scruff and stepped out onto the frozen shelf of the river. If she went after them, Mr. Scratch would bite down and infect Marley. She couldn’t lose another kit. Her heart couldn’t take it.

  But then another fox fell from above.

  Uly leapt from the snowy bridge and landed right on top of his father, knocking Marley from his jaws. The impact made a crack in the river ice, and a chunk broke free, wobbling beneath them.

  “No!” Mia screamed. “Uly!”

  He caught her eyes, wide and panicked as the ice beneath his paws bobbed and came loose.

  “Watch out for his fangs!” she cried. “He has the yellow!”

  The ice drifted from the bank, and Uly, Mr. Scratch, and baby Marley were swept downriver.

  FOURTEEN

  THE ICE BLOCK rocked and tipped, spraying mist and sloshing water over their paws.

  The baby lay belly-flat between Uly and Mr. Scratch. Uly tried to steady himself on his three legs, so he could grab the kit before his father could. But the ice spun and wobbled, and his forepaw kept slipping out from under him.

  “Well, well,” Mr. Scratch said. “Look who isn’t running away anymore.” He smiled his slashed lips. “If you aren’t careful, you might just impress me.”

  Uly kept his eyes fixed on the kit. The ice block hit a rough part of the river and nearly flipped over, splashing icy water over Uly’s back and stealing his breath away.

  Mr. Scratch looked at the baby, soaked and whimpering in the middle of the ice. “Is that what you’re trying to rescue? Oh, son. Have you learned nothing from your father? Let me show you what to do with needy male kits.”

  He lunged.

  Without thinking, Uly pushed with his hind paws, sliding his chest along the ice. He managed to snag the kit and slip beneath his father’s shadow before Mr. Scratch’s paws touched down on the other edge of the ice. The block rocked from the impact, sliding the three foxes back and forth, threatening to spill them all
into the river.

  Mr. Scratch huffed. “Perhaps I haven’t given you and that forepaw enough credit.”

  He lunged again, and Uly pulled Marley back right before his father’s fangs clamped onto the fur at the tip of the kit’s tail. Mr. Scratch tugged, and the poor whimpering kit stretched between the muzzles of father and son.

  Uly met his father’s sunset eyes. He glanced, panicked at his father’s infected fangs.

  “Okay, Dad,” Uly said through his teeth. He released the kit. “You win.”

  Mr. Scratch smiled, the kit’s tail hairs dangling from his teeth. “You’re learning to see things my way.”

  “Not quite,” Uly said.

  He leapt, all three paws leaving the ice. Mr. Scratch’s weight tipped the block, and he slid backward. Uly landed just as his father’s hind legs splashed into the frigid water. Mr. Scratch gasped, and Uly snagged the kit by his tiny head, pulling him to safety.

  His father tried to claw back onto the ice, eyes wide, paws scrabbling.

  “Son,” he said. “Please.”

  Uly scowled. “You never wanted to be my dad.”

  He leapt again. The block tipped, and Mr. Scratch slipped into the rushing river. He did not come up again.

  Uly slid to his belly and sniffed the baby kit. “You okay, little guy?”

  The kit clamped onto Uly’s forepaw and wouldn’t let go.

  “Yeah,” Uly said. “I know the feeling.”

  “Uuuuuuuuuulyyyyyyyyyyyyy!”

  A howl cut through the winter air. It came from the pine grove, now many tails upriver.

  “Miiiiiiaaaaaaaaa!” Uly howled back.

  He didn’t know how to stop the whirling ice block. He could only find a red blur in the distance and watch as it shrank out of view. Mia’s howls grew fainter and fainter until they faded completely.

  FIFTEEN

  MIA WATCHED THE RIVER until Uly and Marley became specks in the distance.

  Then she slipped under the pine bridge and curled up with Bizy—her tail protecting the baby’s tail; her muzzle, the baby’s muzzle. Mia soothed Bizy’s shivers and cleaned the wound in her side until the baby’s chest fell still and her tiny blue eyes fluttered shut. Mia held her breath, hoping to hear Bizy breathe again. But she was gone.