Close Enemies

by Marc Daniel

  He grabbed a fresh pair of uniform pants from the bedroom’s wardrobe and slipped into them, noticing as he did so that his legs were starting to look a lot better. Maybe Helen’s cream did something after all. Although on second thoughts, Sheila not being around to remind him, he hadn’t used the stuff in a few days.

  He opened the door to find Helen shivering on the other side. Her hands were wrapped around two steaming paper cups.

  “Good morning, Michael. I hope I’m not waking you up,” she said, handing him one of the cups. “Black tea with a ton of honey. Just the way you like it.”

  He grabbed the cup and had a small sip. The sweetness was indeed to his liking, but the tea had over-brewed a bit, making it more bitter than it was supposed to be: something hard to do with black tea. He kept this remark to himself. “Thanks, Helen. What’s up?”

  “We have a bit of a situation on our hands and I wanted you to have a look at it. I’m starting to think that my job in Zion was very boring compared to the daily excitement around here.”

  “I’m not sure I’m following. What happened?”

  “We found a dead grizzly yesterday. Only a few hundred feet from one of the main roads. It was killed by a very big cat.”

  Michael felt anger surge through his body. He guessed only too well what kind of cat was responsible for this.

  “Let’s go,” he said, grabbing his car keys from the kitchen table.

  “I’ll ride with you. The carcass is on the Mammoth to Norris road, near the Indian Creek junction. That will take us a good forty-five minutes and there are more things I wish to discuss with you.”

  They got inside Michael’s patrol car and started driving. The road was icy in some places and Michael was forced to slow down significantly around corners to maintain control.

  They’d been driving for about ten minutes when Helen broke the silence. “Are you alright, Michael? You seem a bit on edge. More so than a dead bear should make you.”

  “I’m fine. I have a lot on my mind at the moment, that’s all.” Michael realized his tone had been more dismissive than intended. Helen hadn’t done anything to deserve this.

  “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to pry.”

  “I’m the one who needs to apologize. You haven’t said anything wrong. My girlfriend, Sheila, was in an accident a couple days ago and I worry about her. I didn’t mean to be rude.”

  “No need to apologize. I assure you. I know all there is to know about losing loved ones in an accident and what it can do to you,” she said, looking thoughtful.

  Helen seemed to think that Sheila had been in a car accident, and Michael did nothing to correct her misconception. The truth would only generate more questions he didn’t want to have to answer.

  “Is Sheila going to be OK?”

  “It looks like it.”

  “Is she hospitalized in Bozeman?”

  “No. She’s in Houston,” lied Michael. He couldn’t tell Helen that the elves were caring for her, and Houston was far enough away and had enough hospitals to provide a plausible cover.

  “What did you want to talk to me about, Helen? You said there was more than just the bear.”

  “I don’t believe you’ve heard yet, but we also found a dead wolf. It was discovered the day you left for your vacation.”

  “A dead wolf? What was strange about it?”

  “We think the wolf had been killed by a bear.”

  “By a bear? How do you know this?”

  “Kewanee seemed pretty definitive. We also identified some nearby droppings that had been left by a grizzly.”

  “Kewanee said that? Then it must be true,” replied Michael after a minute of reflection. The native woman probably knew more about tracking than all the other interns and Helen combined.

  “That’s what I wanted to talk to you about, Michael. What’s going on in this park?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I mean I spent seven years working in Zion and never saw a predator kill another predator. Maybe the occasional fox or coyote, but never a wolf or a bear! I’ve been here less than two months and we’ve had three dead bears and a dead wolf. All killed by other predators. That doesn’t seem… natural.”

  Michael nodded. “I know what you mean. But I don’t really see how it could be unnatural.” That part was a lie, but he couldn’t be candid with the woman.

  “Don’t you think the coincidence is impossible? I mean what are the odds?”

  “I don’t know about odds, but I agree the coincidence seems a bit too much.”

  “Don’t you think something or someone could be causing this?”

  “What do you mean?” asked Michael, intrigued.

  “I don’t know exactly, but maybe something’s getting to the animals, driving them crazy.”

  “Maybe…” said Michael, sounding unconvinced.

  “Or maybe someone’s doing this. Maybe some nutcase has trained some predators to specifically kill other predators.”

  “That sounds farfetched, but more likely than the other explanation.”

  “You mean less SciFi-ish,” joked Helen.

  “Something like that.”

  They arrived at their destination and got out of the car. The area had been cordoned off to prevent tourists from getting too close. Kewanee and Raj stood on the other side of the tape barrier.

  “What are these two doing there?” asked Michael as they got closer.

  “I didn’t want the scene to be disturbed until you could have a look at it, so I asked them to keep an eye on it starting at dawn. I had someone else standing guard overnight.”

  “How did you know I was back?”

  “Jason told me you got back yesterday.”

  “When did he tell you that?”

  “Maybe sixish last night. I don’t recall precisely. Why?”

  “Just curious about the efficiency of our bush telegraph,” replied Michael, but it wasn’t the reason for his question. How did Jason know at six last night that Michael was back? It had been much later than that when he’d bumped into him and Ez. And Jason hadn’t mentioned anything about the dead bear either. Although in his defense, Ezekiel’s hat might have gotten him a bit distracted.

  “Good morning,” said Kewanee.

  “Yes. We’re sure glad to see you guys. We’ve been freezing our nuts off all night. Can we go warm up at the station now?” said Raj.

  “You’ve been here less than two hours, Raj. And I doubt Kewanee’s been freezing her nuts off as you so elegantly put it,” replied Helen.

  Michael had walked to the bear’s carcass during the exchange and was now kneeling at its side. A thin layer of ice covered the fur of the poor animal.

  “Are you OK, sir? You seem distraught,” asked Kewanee. Absorbed in his thoughts, Michael hadn’t noticed her approaching. What was going on today? Did he really look like shit or were these women particularly perceptive?

  “I’m fine…”

  “Michael’s girlfriend was in a car accident,” said Helen before he had a chance to elaborate. “He has a lot on his mind.”

  He thought he’d mentioned this to Helen in confidence and hadn’t expected her to mention it to the whole park. This is why he preferred keeping quiet and to himself. That’s also why he favored the company of bears to humans. Bears knew how to keep quiet.

  Kewanee was staring at him with a strange look in her eyes. Was it pity or disdain?

  “What do you think, Michael? Did a cat do that?” asked Helen, looking down at the carcass.

  “Of course, a cat did that.” This time it was Raj’s turn to surprise him.

  “How can you be so sure?” asked Michael.

  “Because these are tiger tracks,” he said, pointing at a couple of prints left in the mud. “And the throat attack… that’s also a tiger’s signature kill.”

  “There are no tigers in Yellowstone, Raj,” said Helen dismissively.

  “No… But there are tigers in India! Right in my backyard, as a matter of fact.
And I’m telling you that a tiger paw left that print.”

  Helen pulled a small vial and a pocketknife out of her jacket and knelt by the carcass.

  “What are you doing?” asked Michael.

  “I’m taking a sample of the wound for DNA analysis. If a tiger did this, we have a serious problem in this park. We need to know if that’s the case or if Mr Raj is full of it.”

  “Be my guest,” replied the intern with a look of haughty disdain. “And when I’m proven right, I’ll accept your apologies with magnanimity.”

  “That would be a first,” commented Kewanee.

  “I also took a DNA sample of the dead wolf. If another predator ended up killed by a bear, we’d be able to tell if the same bear was responsible for both kills.”

  “Not a bad idea,” replied Michael. But he was worried about the DNA samples Helen was taking. He didn’t know what a weretiger’s DNA looked like, but he doubted it’d be similar to that of a regular tiger. The DNA from the wolf was less concerning. No matter how strange this might be, the wolf had been killed by a regular grizzly. There was only one werebear left on the planet, and Michael hadn’t killed that wolf.

  *****

  Kewanee was observing Michael crouched over the bear. Yet another dead bear. That one had supposedly been killed by a cat, but Kewanee didn’t buy it. This was a simple cover-up and Biörn was too blind to see what was so painfully obvious. He was too close to the enemy to see it for what it was. But this was something she could help him with. She knew just the way.

  Biörn looked tired and stressed-out, no doubt because of what had happened to his little girlfriend. At least that suggested he was capable of feeling something for someone else than himself. She just wished he’d had the same consideration towards her mother. Or towards his own daughter.

  Chapter 36

  Three miles down the road from the area where Michael and Helen stood over the bear’s carcass was a gray sedan. The vehicle was parked on a small lot along the main road: an access point to backcountry trails.

  A man stood outside the car, watching the cordoned-off area through a military-grade night vision scope. The magnification was such that he felt as if he stood next to Biörn and his little friends.

  He had failed in St. Lucia, but Biörn had received unexpected help. Had it not been for the mysterious archer, things would have turned out quite differently. From now on, he needed to be on his guard… or else he would meet the same end than his companion, the werecougar.

  The cougar hadn’t been a close friend of his, but they’d been brothers in arms and his death would be avenged. He simply needed to keep an eye open for anything unexpected, like a green-pointed arrow flying out of nowhere. He could still feel the burn of its crystalline head in the back of his thigh. He had to be careful hiding his limp or else he’d have some justifying to do.

  The green tip had evaporated the minute he’d pulled the arrow out of his limb. He’d never seen such a thing. Powerful magic had been infused in these arrows: magic designed to prevent identifying the archer or analyzing the substance that had so effectively dispatched a werebeing.

  Through the scope, he saw Biörn kneel down beside the dead bear. What are you doing, asshole? Making sure I did a good job? Don’t worry, I was very thorough. This bear won’t give you any more trouble.

  The grizzly had been an interesting kill. Not an easy one, but not a big challenge either. He’d stalked the bear for almost three hours before finally attacking a few minutes after nightfall.

  He had needed the bear to be in the right spot: a location close to one of the main roads where the carcass would be sure to attract attention.

  Once the bear had reached a suitable location, he’d approached it slowly, making sure to stay downwind from his prey. He’d been lucky to be able to sneak up on the animal while it’d been busy eating berries. He’d gone straight for the throat and hadn’t let go despite the grizzly’s tremendous strength.

  He’d received serious wounds from the bear’s claws, but they’d healed in minutes. Unlike the bloody arrow that kept on giving long after he’d pulled it out of his thigh.

  In the scope, he saw Helen Fletcher pull something out of her pocket and kneel beside Biörn. What was the woman doing? Was she collecting a sample from the bear? What for?

  Chapter 37

  The small meeting room had seldom held more people. All chairs were occupied, and several rangers stood against the walls due to lack of seats. The crowd was a mixture of law enforcement and interpretive rangers. Michael had insisted all interns attend the meeting and Helen had rallied her troops.

  “Settle down, please. We’re going to get started,” said Jason Parrish, standing in front of the white board.

  The room quietened down as the chief started telling the audience why their presence had been requested. “Most of you already know that we’ve seen some unusual attacks in the park recently. Cats going after bears and things of that sort.”

  The crowd nodded acquiescingly.

  “We have reasons to believe that at least one of the cats involved in these attacks isn’t native to the area.”

  “What does that mean?” asked one of the men standing against the wall.

  “Things haven’t been confirmed, but some signs suggest a tiger.”

  The room exploded in discussions and conjectures as the audience debated the plausibility of the claim.

  “Ladies and gentlemen, please, let me continue.”

  The ruckus subsided and the chief resumed. “I understand everyone has questions. Unfortunately, we have no answers at this time.”

  “The news hasn’t been communicated to the public,” intervened Helen. “We’re waiting on some DNA analyses. There is no need to spread rumors amongst our visitors until we have received scientific confirmation.”

  “So how do we know?” asked a female officer.

  “The evidence found at the site of one of the attacks seems to match with a tiger,” offered Jason unconvincingly. “Michael, you called this meeting. Would you like to take over?”

  Michael, who’d been standing near the door talking to an Indian gentleman in his fifties, walked to the front of the room.

  The room became suddenly quiet. Michael wasn’t known for his public speeches and his involvement had piqued his colleagues’ curiosity.

  “Although we’re still awaiting confirmation, as Helen just mentioned, I wanted to make sure everyone in this room is aware of the possibility and stands on his or her guard. Tigers aren’t something we’re familiar with in these parts and I thought a bit of education wouldn’t hurt. For this reason, I’ve asked Doctor Agarwal to come talk to us about tigers,” Michael said, extending one hand towards the Indian gentleman he’d been talking to.

  “Doctor Agarwal is a tiger expert currently working at a private wild cats’ sanctuary in California. He agreed to come and give us a lecture today along with a few pointers in case we were to come face to face with a tiger. Dr Agarwal, the floor is yours.” Michael then retreated towards the back of the room: a position from which he could better monitor the audience.

  “First of all, let me assure you that the presence of a tiger in this park isn’t as farfetched as one might think. There are more tigers living in captivity in the US than wild tigers in the entire world. Most of these cats belong to zoos and private sanctuaries, but a fair amount of them are kept as pets by people who often lack the proper training required to adequately care for such animals. It wouldn’t be the first time a pet tiger got loose…” said the scholar.

  He then started his exposé with a slide show on the different varieties of tiger and their behavior. The room was attentive.

  The presentation lasted about forty-five minutes. And overall, the advice given and the precautions to follow sounded fairly similar to those pertaining to mountain lions. The notable exception came at the end in the form of a gift.

  Having concluded his talk, Dr Agarwal went around the room distributing cylindrical pieces of me
tal about three inches in length and a three-quarter inch in diameter to everyone in the room.

  “What are those?” asked Elodie, the French intern.

  “Those are whistles,” explained the scholar. “I’ve been experimenting with non-lethal ways of deterring tigers in my spare time. Although not effective in every case, it would seem that at least some tigers can be deterred by the sound of these high-pitched whistles.”

  The audience looked fairly unconvinced by the argument, but nobody voiced their opinion aloud.

  *****

  Michael directed Dr Agarwal towards his patrol SUV and got behind the wheel. He then waited for a bull elk to move out of the way before starting the car and heading towards the park’s North Entrance located a few miles down the road.

  “Your whistles didn’t seem to convince anyone,” Michael said to his passenger.

  “Were you surprised? Whistles… To deter a tiger! They must have thought I was out of my mind!” replied the doctor, laughing heartily.

  The road from Mammoth to the North Entrance was composed of a series of switchbacks designed to ease the 1,500-foot elevation difference between the two points. As a result of the steep incline, nobody on the road would have been able to see inside Michael’s vehicle with the exception of a car passing them in the other direction. As it happened, the road was deserted and nobody beside Michael witnessed the transformation of Doctor Agarwal into an old gentleman with a pointy hat and a gray cloak.

  “Did it work at least?” asked Michael.

  “Of course, it worked! Who do you take me for? A half rate magician? The type you see doing tricks in malls?” replied Ezekiel, faking outrage.

  “I know how great you are, Ez. It’s not as if you’d ever let me forget. Which reminds me, if you’re available next month, Olivia wanted a magician for her birthday party and these guys you see on TV cost an arm and a leg… Would you mind—”

  “Turning you into a salt shaker to teach you respect? Not at all, that would be my pleasure,” replied the wizard.

  “A salt shaker? I had heard of salt statues but—”