Street Shadows

by Claire Gilchrist

  Without any further thought or planning, he rejoined the human path. The humans continued to react with shouts and screaming, but he began to gain confidence as nothing attacked him. He found himself wondering what kind of secret danger they posed. Even though they were close, they didn’t do anything to hurt him. This was definitely better than dealing with Storm.

  Suddenly, Scruff felt something sting the back of his head. He looked back, and saw some humans throwing rocks and sand at him. As he looked, another clump of rocks hit his face, stinging his eyes. He yelped in pain and fear, and jumped back.

  The humans approached, and suddenly one of them lobbed a larger rock. It hit his back, almost knocking him over and causing a sharp pain to radiate all the way down his leg. Realizing he was under attack, he took off, leaving the beach and vaulting over some logs. With a few more strides, he found himself in the forest. He paused to see if he was safe. The human voices seemed to be getting louder — were they following him? With no other choice, he began to follow a faint path deeper into the forest. Worried that it would lead him to Storm and her pack, he left the path and began to bushwhack his way through the dense undergrowth, tripping over sticks and getting scratched by sharp twigs. A moment later, he stopped again. All he could hear was the sound of his own breathing. The humans were not following him anymore.

  He breathed a big sigh of relief, and turned to retrace his steps and find the path again. He had only taken a few steps when he heard a deep, menacing growl.

  TWENTY

  STORM

  Scruff

  “What are you doing in our forest?” Scruff saw a massive, silver-grey coyote emerging from the bushes where he had just come from — it must be Storm! Four other large coyotes flanked her, a silent and menacing army. Their hackles were raised, and they looked angry.

  “Sorry — I was just … I was just passing through. Quickly.” His voice was shaky and came out as a squeak.

  “You aren’t allowed in this forest.”

  “I’m sorry — I’ll leave right away.” Scruff backed up slowly as he spoke, bumping into bushes as he tried to put some distance between himself and the coyotes.

  “I don’t know if that will be good enough. You are deep in our forest. You ignored our scent markings. You have no right to be here and are not welcome.” Her voice was low and menacing, and with each sentence she took a step toward him, the other coyotes following her like shadows.

  Scruff knew without a doubt that there was no talking his way out of this one. Tucking his tail between his legs and flattening his ears, he turned and fled in the direction of the beach. The bushes were so thick that he could barely see. Branches scratched him and it was all he could do to avoid falling flat on his face. He heard howls and barks close behind him. At that moment, he stumbled on a rock, rolling over a few times. He immediately jumped up, but just as he did, one of the coyotes bit his tail, hard. Pain radiated through his body. He yelped and heard them laugh.

  “Good one!”

  “Keep running, runt!”

  He raced on, his tail throbbing, and, with a few more bounds, broke out of the forest and onto a new beach. It wasn’t busy, with just a few humans at one end of it. He heard them shout but didn’t care. He could run faster here and he lengthened his stride until he reached the water’s edge. Turning, he began to run along the shoreline, slowing slightly when he saw a large metal pipe ahead of him that lay across the beach and led into the water. Scruff arrived at it and tried to jump over it, but it was too high and his paws slipped off the metal. He had no chance. The five coyotes, right on his tail, stopped to form a semicircle around him, stalking closer. They blocked off the forest and the beach where they had come from, effectively cornering him. The large pipe was at his back and the only other exit was the ocean.

  For a few seconds, they all stood there, sizing each other up. Then, with a growl, Storm launched herself toward him. He saw the large coyote descend, and quickly dove to the side, bumping into another coyote. This one jumped on top of him, and they tumbled over one another to the edge of the water. For a single second he was free, and he leapt in the only direction where there were no coyotes — straight into the waves. He moved deeper and deeper, the waves washing up against his chest. He could hear splashing behind him; he was still being pursued. He felt the icy cold of the water where he didn’t have a thick coat to protect him. Pain radiated up his legs and he found it difficult to breathe.

  He reached the point where he was so deep that his paws barely touched the ground and waves began to splash over his face, freezing water rushing into his ears. Breathing in water and beginning to choke, he turned around toward the beach again, desperately trying to escape the icy onslaught. He opened his eyes, and looked right into the sneering face of Storm, who lunged at him and bit him on the ear. He yelped, ripping his head away and launching himself farther into the water again.

  He didn’t know how his body knew what to do, but before he knew it his paws were scooping water in front of him, and he was afloat, moving slowly forward. He didn’t dare look back. A wave rose up above him and he went under, but popped up again a second later. All he felt was cold water and his mouth was full of salt.

  His lungs burned, and he found it more and more difficult to move his legs. His mouth was barely out of the water, and a wave crashed into his face, forcing water down his throat. Coughing hard, he lifted his nose desperately, trying to keep from inhaling more water. He almost headed back to shore, but, turning his head slightly, he saw five shapes slinking along, watching him. He couldn’t do it. This was it. The way he was going to die.

  But he willed his legs to keep moving. A few more minutes passed, and he was somewhat surprised to realize that he hadn’t drowned yet. His swimming became slightly more efficient, and although he still couldn’t feel his legs, his chest began to relax the tiniest bit, allowing him to get more air in each time. He still felt like he was on the edge of suffocating, coughing constantly as water sloshed into his mouth. A few minutes later, he realized that he had reached a new point of exhaustion, and sheer will was no longer enough. His legs began to slow down and he sank lower and lower in the water. His vision darkened. Without making a conscious decision, his brain made his body turn back toward the shore. He no longer cared if Storm was there. Eventually, one of his paws hit soft ground, and he was standing in chest-deep water. His head was low now and he coughed, trying to bring more air back into his lungs. A few seconds passed before his brain turned back on again, and he snapped his head up to see where he was.

  Large rocks, covered in barnacles and seaweed, were strewn along the beach, and a long set of concrete stairs led the way up a steep, weedy embankment. There was a bad smell and he didn’t see any humans or coyotes. Barely caring if Storm and her pack found him, he dragged himself up onto the rocks and collapsed.

  TWENTY-ONE

  HOME

  Pica

  Pica’s journey back to the hillside went quickly. She only remembered bits and pieces of the landscape, and these memories were overlaid with pain. The scent of her family was long gone, but the oddest things brought back their memories vividly: Sage’s big eyes the first time a train shrieked past them, Kai trying to balance on the railway ties, her mother’s gentle tongue licking her wounds and encouraging her to keep going.

  Travelling by herself for the first time in her life, she was acutely aware of the danger she was in. Not only was she not yet full-grown, but she didn’t know this territory well. She kept her senses on alert for signs of another coyote, carefully skirting the boundaries when necessary. Only a few hours had passed when she caught a scent that she recognized. She stopped short, her front paw hanging in the air, trying to place the smell. With a start, she realized that she was already back to the spot where her family had first joined the train track. The large industrial building on the left had a very distinctive chemical stench. She fully realized for the first time how injured she had been, and how slowly her family had travelled
so that she could keep up with them. What had been going through Gree’s mind on that journey? Had she ever considered leaving her behind? She shuddered, hoping that she would never be put in a situation like that. Her mother was so patient — she had never made Pica feel bad, despite the fact that the safety of her whole family had been compromised by her injury.

  Lost in thought, she continued retracing her steps. She was still distracted when, at the edge of a dark park, she heard a high-pitched yipping howl close by. She froze. A few seconds later, she saw two shadows materialize out of the darkness. Two large coyotes, walking stiffly toward her, were showing signs of aggression. She crouched down submissively on the ground. Taking a deep breath, she called out, “I’m just passing through. I’m looking for my family.” She took another breath, and then ventured, “Two females and three pups my age — have you seen them?”

  “No. Move along,” the male snapped, irritated. She glared at him — he hadn’t even given it a thought. But when he took a step toward her, she thought better of trying to continue the conversation. She definitely wouldn’t find her family if she let herself be attacked.

  She continued on without event for another hour, her legs feeling quite tired now. She hadn’t had much exercise over the last six weeks, and the lingering snow on the ground made travel a lot more difficult. As the cloudy sky began to lighten, she realized that it would be best for her to rest one more day, find something to eat and drink, and then attempt to find some more coyotes to ask about her family.

  She looked for a place to sleep that no other coyote would want. Finding a busy road, she tucked herself under a clump of bushes on the side and dug into the ground. The sound of the traffic blocked out all other noises, and it smelled bad. She was fairly sure that no one would find her here.

  She napped fitfully throughout the day, thoughts of Jagger swirling around in her mind. When the sky darkened again, she treaded carefully toward the hillside, stopping to eat some garbage from a back alley. It helped her hunger a little bit. She ate some snow, but knowing that it only quenched her thirst for a while, she kept her eyes out for puddles. As she travelled, she stayed alert for signs of other coyotes. It was risky, but she didn’t know any other way to find her family. By the end of the night, she had found three other coyotes — a solitary male and a pair — but none of them had been helpful. They hadn’t been overly aggressive, either, so she had gained more confidence in starting the conversations. She was about to give up and take a rest when she saw a dark shape at the end of an alley. She caught her breath and her heart felt like something was squeezing it tightly. It looked exactly like — but it couldn’t be —

  “Hi.” The low bark sounded nothing like Jagger. She breathed out. His profile was similar — tall and lanky, fur not quite smooth. But his voice was completely different.

  “Hi,” she returned cautiously, stopping and waiting to see whether she should flee or not.

  “I’m Patch,” he offered, wagging his tail a little bit.

  “Pica,” she replied, not moving.

  “What are you doing here?” In contrast to the aggression she was used to, Patch spoke in a neutral tone. He walked toward her unhurriedly, swinging his tail back and forth slowly. She noticed that his one dark ear did indeed look like a patch. He was younger than she had originally thought, probably born only a year or two before her.

  “I’m just passing through, looking for my family.” Pica took a few hesitant steps forward, cautiously sniffing him as they met.

  “What do they look like?” he asked.

  Pica hesitated. He seemed almost too friendly. But at least he was willing to take the time to consider her question. She described her family in detail, watching his face hopefully for a sign of recognition. He began nodding as she described Gree, and she broke off. “Do you know her?”

  “I think so.” He paused. “Haven’t seen her around in a long time. But I haven’t been in this area too much in the last little while. Why are you looking for them?”

  Pica’s heart sunk. It was not the lead she was hoping for. She tried to swallow, feeling emotion rise in her.

  “Hey, are you okay?” The coyote seemed genuinely concerned. Pica couldn’t stop herself. She told him her whole story, words spilling out of her. He just listened until she finished, a note of hopelessness in her voice.

  Patch was quiet for a moment, looking sadly at her. “That’s quite the story. I really hope you can find your family — I wish I could help you, but I’m pretty sure they haven’t returned here.” He paused, thinking. “I know Jagger, too, but I haven’t seen him in a while, either.”

  Pica felt a bolt of electricity run through her. “What? Jagger is gone?”

  “Well, ever since they demolished the hillside —”

  “What?” Pica yelped.

  “Oh, right, I guess you don’t know about that. I think we’re talking about the same hillside — right next to the golf course, right?”

  “Yes. What happened?” Pica could hardly breathe.

  “I think they’re building some more houses there. Right now, there are just machines and temporary buildings there. Mostly I avoid it now, so I’m not sure what has been happening there lately.”

  Pica’s face must have registered severe shock, because as Patch looked back at her, he quickly added, “Well, I’m not sure. You might want to go check it out. But either way, I do know Jagger, and I haven’t run across him in a few weeks. I think it’s quite possible that he moved on after the hillside was demolished.”

  Pica thought about this new information, unable to fully digest it. She couldn’t even imagine the hillside not being there. She felt a rise of anger, thinking of how Jagger had torn apart her family, now all for nothing. It all seemed so senseless. She needed to see it for herself.

  “Thanks for the information.” She smiled at Patch. “Really, you are the first friendly coyote I’ve met around here.”

  “Thanks,” he said, smiling at her. He walked over and laid his head gently on her back. “Maybe I can come with you?”

  Her back suddenly felt hot and Pica jumped back. Was he looking for a partner? “Oh … well …” she stammered. “I wasn’t … I didn’t think …”

  Patch just smiled. “Oh, it’s okay. I can see you are still young and you need to figure some things out. I’m just saying, if I see you around again, we should talk some more.” With a grin and a flick of his tail, he walked away down the alley.

  Pica’s mind swirled. The hillside gone — and Jagger maybe gone, too. And this new feeling, a funny fluttering in her stomach. She realized suddenly that time had been passing quickly, and she had grown into a much more adult body without even realizing it. First with fleeing Jagger, then getting captured, she had lost track of the fact that she was almost fully grown now. She would have to start thinking carefully when she was near male coyotes around her age.

  She moved on, feeling something pulling her toward the hillside. She needed to find out what was happening there. She travelled cautiously, sniffing carefully for any signs of Jagger. She still couldn’t believe that he might be gone. She finally made it to the edge of the busy road, and from there she could already tell that everything had changed. Breathing in the sharp, cold winter air, she smelled metal, fresh dirt, and oil. The sky was still dark, but she could make out the hulking shadows of the equipment against the sky. Carefully, she crossed the road and hopped the old rock barrier in order to find out more.

  As she wandered around what used to be her hillside, she saw the extent of the damage. It had changed so much that she couldn’t even find where her den site used to be. There were huge, gaping holes in the earth, and a wide gravel road that bisected the hillside. Machines rose everywhere from the newly turned earth, sinister in their stillness. The construction odours were so overpowering that they made her feel sick to her stomach, and she could detect very little else. The smells she had used as landmarks in the past were gone. Everything was ruined.

  She began t
o feel overwhelmed and found herself climbing up the hill, trying to get some fresh air as she had done in the past so many times. Near the top, there was a small patch of ground that had not yet been touched. She used her nose to carefully pull out the various smells from her childhood. She picked out a sweet-smelling grass, a spicy one, and the smell of cold condensation on the earth. Then, at almost the same moment that she smelled him, she heard his voice.

  “Well, well, well. Look who has dragged herself back home.” The voice was unmistakable.

  Pica whirled around. Standing behind her, up against the fence, was Jagger. She gasped — he looked terrible. His body was skinnier than it had ever been before, his ribs sticking out. His fur was patchy, and he had very little of it left on his tail. She shivered when they made eye contact. Despite his appearance, he still had his trademark sneering confidence.

  “Jagger.” She took a shaky breath. “I heard you were gone.”

  “I left when the machines moved in. But I still pass through this area from time to time, looking for …” He paused, looking directly at her with a smile. “… looking for food.”

  Pica began planning her escape route. She didn’t know which direction would be best — Jagger was still faster and stronger than her and could probably catch her anywhere. He had killed her father; she was sure he wouldn’t hesitate to kill her, too. She bunched up her muscles, preparing to run.

  “I guess you’re looking for your family,” Jagger sneered.

  Pica paused. “Do you know anything about them?”

  “The idea that I would help a runt like you find your family. Ridiculous.” Jagger threw back his head and laughed. “They certainly aren’t around here anymore.”

  Pica felt the white-hot heat rising up in her, and she couldn’t help herself. “No, Jagger, they aren’t. Thanks to you. The way you and Scruff killed my father just to get the hillside — you ignored the code and showed yourself to be completely ruthless. And now, it seems that you are also completely stupid. You did it all for nothing.” She jumped forward, landing squarely in front of him, propelled by her anger. “I hate you, and you deserve all of this — you’re sick, and you have no home anymore. You deserve it all.” She spat the words out.