Consequences (32 page)

After hanging up I relay the plan to Ann, “We
can take Lune down to Jim’s lab, he has an X-ray machine that they
use for examinations, and research. He said no one sticks around
after closing … if we can wait about an hour, he’ll meet us
there.”

Lune is holding up like a champ, and soon
Artemis gives up on going out and decides to lie down next to him.
I didn’t realize that the day is almost over, until I notice the
sun has already set. We hadn’t eaten all day … and even with all
the excitement, my stomach starts complaining about being hungry. I
decide to reheat some the stroganoff from the night before last,
and see if Ann would like to eat as well. She politely refuses at
first, but after the smell of the food reaches her, I can hear her
stomach growling. Grudgingly she comes over and sits with me at the
table. Smiling, I open two bottles of beer, hand her a fork and
slide the bowl between us. We don’t speak; there is no need for
words. I’m pretty sure that the day we just shared, gives us the
right to call each other friends; and we just happen to be the type
of friends that can appreciate silence.

After finishing the last bite of food and
taking a long draw off her bottle, Ann breaks the stillness by
asking if she could go with me to take Lune to the biologist.

“Shouldn’t one of us stay here with
Christopher?” Not that I don’t want her with me … I really do want
to be alone with her, and away from this circus; but I think
someone should probably stay.

“I was thinking about that … Cassandra is in
talking with Christopher, and has been for the last forty-five
minutes; plus any threats from V can be handled by Artemis. The
only real problem that I can think of would be if Christopher tried
to leave … and in that case, by myself, I couldn’t stop him if I
wanted to. At least with you, I might be able to help in some way …
and to tell the truth, I think it might be good to give Christopher
some time alone with Cassandra.” She finishes her beer in one gulp
and then walks over to the couch to put on her coat.

Leaving my bottle, still full, on the table,
I grab my jacket and gently pick up Lune. Ann leads the way,
opening the front door and then the truck door, so that I don’t
have to juggle Lune. With the dog set between us in the front seat,
we drive in silence to the lab. We are going to be about a
half-hour late, but none of us seems to care. Lune is resting
peacefully with his head in Ann’s lap. He even snores a little, as
Ann strokes his ears.

Jim’s vehicle is the only car left in the
parking lot, and he has left the front door unlocked for us.
Meeting us in the main hallway, he leads us straight back to the
room housing the x-ray unit. I lay Lune down on the steel table in
the middle of the room, and after a brief, but thorough
examination, Jim agrees with Ann and me … he doesn’t seem to have
any internal damage. Lifting Lune up again, we move him to the
machine and proceed to take the pictures we need to rule out any
unseen issues. After making small talk for a few minutes, we look
over the films … nothing is broken, not even fractured.

After we thank him profusely, Jim locks up
the lab, and hands me a white paper bag with a bottle of pain pills
for Lune, and then ushers us out to my truck. He doesn’t ask any
questions; he just advises us to give Lune up to two tablets of the
Tramadol pain reliever every four hours to ease the discomfort from
the bruising. Turning around, he reminds us to call if anything
changes in Lune’s condition, and warns us that he will be loopy
while he is on the meds. Then he unpretentiously gets into his car
and drives out of the parking lot.

Ann and I are relieved beyond words that our
furry friend is all right. In no rush to return to the cabin, we
sit quietly in my truck and simply listen to Lune breathe.

After repeatedly trying to imagine what she
witnessed during V’s attack, I finally decide to ask, “What
happened during the fight … that made you scream?”

“I was wondering why you hadn’t asked before
now …” She looks down at her hands, nervously folded in her lap. “…
V was screaming. Have you ever heard what it sounds like when a
rabbit is captured, and they scream? Their hearts beat so fast that
their minds become blank, and all they have left is the guttural
instinct, the basic knowledge that death is imminent. That
sorrowful awareness has to be let out … so they howl, and it sounds
like a dying infant. V was making a sound like that … and I guess,
I don’t have the stomach to inflict or even watch that kind of
pain.”

Her hands are shaking slightly; they look so
pale and delicate. She notices my eyes studying her, and in
response she buries her trembling fingers in Lune’s thick mane
before she continues. “In my time with James’s surrogate family,
all the abuse I witnessed and endured … I don’t think I’ve seen
anything as stone cold as what Christopher and Artemis did
today.

"Except for maybe … once when I was little,
and my parents took me to visit a family friend’s ranch in Western
Colorado. I watched a pack of Coyotes stalk a calf that was
separated from its mother.

"I sat in the Rancher’s family room while all
the adults were talking loudly in the kitchen. Bored, I picked up
an adult-sized pair of binoculars and scanned the grass and
sagebrush, trying to find something interesting. I knew most of the
herd was on the other side of the building, since I had ridden in
the truck that dropped bales of hay out back earlier in the
evening. I remember the Rancher saying he thought he had accounted
for all the calves … obviously he was wrong.

"When I found the little, black and white
calf through the binoculars … she was scared and crying for her
mother. Cows are such stupid creatures; they were gorging
themselves so noisily, none of them heard the little, lost one, or
they didn’t care. But something heard the baby … and it brought
friends. The efficiency of their hunt was exhilarating at first,
but when they attacked … I pressed the rubber eyepieces so hard to
my face that they left angry, red welts. I couldn’t stop watching.
The coyotes had a vicious beauty to their slaughtering technique …
I understood then that nature just is, and we only survive because
it allows us to. There were no morals to what was happening, just
naked survival … cold and unforgiving. That is what I saw in
Artemis and Christopher during the battle; pure instinct, not
hatred … just nature reasserting itself in the most gruesome way
possible. And the animal in Christopher, his most basic nature,
scares the hell out of me.”

I can see that she is still soaking in the
horror of her re-education in the nature of things. I don’t want to
press for the specifics of V’s injuries; I can imagine them now,
clearly enough. My knuckles are turning white from my grip on the
steering wheel. During her story, I realize I know exactly what Ann
is talking about … and it scares the hell out of me, too. We sit in
silence listening to Lune’s intake of air and quiet sighs, until
both of us start to relax. I decide it is time to head back to
Polebridge and the reality of life … my mind is whispering regrets
over my loss of ignorance, quietly wishing I’d never met
Christopher, or seen his world.

Playing on our reprieve from the drama of the
day, I drive slowly and show Ann some of my favorite places around
town. Looking at her change in posture, from apprehensiveness, to a
genuine interest in my little corner of the world … I mentally
amend my wish, because I found her.

Crouching, I stay well hidden in the darkest
shadows, underneath the trees at the edge of the clearing that
surrounds the cabin. Watching closely, I see two of the boy’s
friends carry out a dog, and then climb into a large vehicle that
is parked near the front door. I saw the broad man talk to
Cassandra earlier in the day, and then the small woman with the
rigid demeanor, come out to address my ancient friend a bit later.
Cassandra referred to her as a seer … and my stomach jerked at the
thought of running into one of them. Humans are not supposed to be
able to understand anything about our world. Livestock are meant to
remain ignorant! Seers can interact … and they always come armed,
damn them. But the seer is leaving … and that means Cassandra and
the boy are unprotected.

The image of my evil plaything’s injuries
flashes into my mind, and even though I admire the handiwork … I
know that whatever the boy is, he definitely isn’t defenseless.
Rather than jumping right in and getting killed, I need to try and
control my fixation, and take a little time to study my future
companion.

I know that if I stay intangible, I am
virtually invisible to the human world … but when stalking a
talented human and a powerful ethereal entity, there is no telling
what weaknesses they could perceive. Thinking back on my return
trip to the cabin, I remember seeing wolf tracks setting a
perimeter around this part of the woods. The boy has to have seen
wolves around here … if they catch a glimpse of me; they won’t see
anything more unusual than a wolf patrolling its border.

In preparing for my transformation, I picture
a wolf … not the monster from Romania I created, just a simple,
unassuming wolf. The image brings up the memory of my last
encounter with a wolf pack in Roxburgh, Scotland, and I have to
repress an involuntary shiver. Their unified essence gives them a
fearlessness that is unmatched in any species I’ve ever
encountered. I have no supremacy over the fearless; and being
incapable of inducing and feeding on fear, the powerlessness of my
confrontation with the Pack left me with an unusual feeling of
pending defeat. A sensation I had never felt before … and will
never put myself in the position to feel again. I paid back my
revenge to Canidae Lupus, by creating hysteria in Europe that led
to the humans almost hunting them into extinction. I wish humanity
would finish what they start.

The leader of that pack was a beautiful black
and red female. After I killed her mate, she nearly ran herself,
and her pack, to death, trying to track me down. Such an enchanting
creature; I can still see the muscles rippling under her sleek
coat, and her fangs asking for my blood as she sneered. The
murderous gleam in her golden eyes struck cords of fearful surprise
in me … making me giggle uncontrollably. I thoroughly enjoyed her
game of chase. She was one of the only living things that I almost
admired. Yes; that is who I shall become. Even as I am letting the
memory build in detail, I can feel the change already starting.

I lower myself onto my hands and knees, where
I can let my body recreate itself. I feel my knees dislocate and
rejoin, so that they will bend higher up my thigh. My calves
shorten and my feet elongate, bringing my heels and ankles closer
to the knee joints, and forcing me to stand on my toes. My chest
cavity collapses and stretches forward; and as my shoulder blades
grow, they force my arms, more permanently, down in from of me. My
spine feels as if it is being chewed up and then spit out in a long
line that extends past my hindquarters. Then my skull flattens, and
the excess of bone from my cranium moves to the front of my jaw,
lengthening my nose and teeth into a vicious muzzle. Finally, my
entire body starts trembling, as the sensation of fur sprouting
everywhere sends a feeling of ecstasy to my nerve endings.

Bowing forward, and stretching my new joints,
I can feel my tail wagging. I have almost forgotten how much I
enjoy having a tail … although; I think I prefer a snake’s tail
over this hairy banner that advertises my mood for everyone to
read. At least the wolves are more reserved than their domesticated
cousins … stupid animals, falling all over themselves at the feet
of humans … and for what? A scratch on the stomach, that’s all they
want … pitiful, absolutely contemptible.

A shake that starts with my head and travels
all the way down through my tail helps to distract my mind from the
nausea that was building at the notion of unconditional love … I
loathe dogs. Pouncing forward, the feeling of power and strength in
my muscles is addictive, and I find myself sprinting for the cabin.
The wind folds itself through my fur and tickles my ears … I can't
help but to run laps around the property, relishing the sensation
of speed.

“I can’t believe you would allow yourself to
become wrapped up in the simple brain of this beast … next thing
you know, you’ll be chasing your own tail.” Slightly angry with
myself for being so easily sidetracked, I slide to a stop outside
the boy’s bedroom window.

I can hear voices on the other side of the
glass. Finding what I am looking for, I curl up in the brush
underneath the window. Cassandra is talking; I am finally able to
call the boy by name, and I understand why she brought us here to
seek him out. So, Christopher and Ellie are in love … and he
believes that she is dead. Beautiful!

Cassandra’s annoying voice begins ranting
about righteous anger and the reality of fear … I cringe as her
philosophy makes my heart hurt and my stomach twist. She is trying
to turn Christopher into some sort of hero. Telling him anger and
fear are perfectly normal, it is what you do with them, which
defines who you will become.

She is completely ruining his potential for
chaos; this is extremely unusual for her. She has always been
happy, or at least tolerant enough, to sit by and let the human
race destroy itself … maybe this Ellie has been her tutor as well.
I think … I hate Ellie.

The wind picks up and I curl tighter into a
ball. Tucking my nose under my tail, I close my eyes and listen
harder, hoping to learn more. Christopher has a rich voice that’s
aching with misery, when he finally answers Cassandra. “Are you
telling me that you agree with my choice to hunt down Ellie’s
murderer?”

“I’m telling you that no one will blame you
for trying. I just want you to calm down, so that you don’t do
something rash. Let the anger feed you, and the fear of life
without her give you strength … but don’t let them blur your mind
with irrational obsessions. I want revenge, too, and I need your
help … but I don’t want your death staining my hands. You are very
weak right now … you need to become healthy again, before you can
challenge anyone.” There is a confidence infecting Cassandra's tone
as she speaks … I don't like this; a Cassandra strong enough to
fight is very dangerous indeed.