Wolf Stalker (7 page)

B
y three in the morning the protective cloud cover had moved away, leaving no barrier against the frigid temperatures that pressed down on the mountain. But it was not the cold that woke Jack.

In his sleep he'd moved nearer to the warmth of the fire, until his face got too close to the ashes and he coughed. Sitting up, he coughed again, and shook his head to clear away the buzzing.

The buzzing continued in his head, like a huge insect, until he suddenly realized that the loud humming was coming from overhead. Jack looked up and scrambled to his feet.

Red and white wing lights of a small airplane flashed alternately, a beacon in the night sky. The plane was circling slowly overhead.

It was all he could do not to cry out or wave his arms. That would be a useless waste of energy; he knew he needed to work fast and work smart. The fire was the only thing that an airplane could see, and right now it had burned low. With shaking hands, Jack quickly threw every piece of brush and tinder he could reach onto the embers. He even dumped on the empty Ritz cracker box, and watched it flare up and then blacken as the letters crumpled inward.

“What…” Troy mumbled, opening his eyes.

“Nothing. Just fixing the fire,” Jack said. “Go back to sleep.”

The flames rose satisfyingly high while the plane still circled. They'll see it, Jack thought. They can't miss it. As he watched the light aircraft fly, he moved closer to the fire to warm his cold hands. Troy, who'd been shivering and hugging himself tightly, relaxed a little as more heat reached him. Let them sleep, Jack thought. Why wake Troy and Ashley and get them all excited? If that pilot is searching for us, he's seen the fire. Otherwise…Plan B. We hike out in the morning.

In a few minutes the plane flew away—in a straight line. That was a good sign. It meant the pilot had decided he didn't need to search any longer. He was probably already radioing the location to park headquarters, where the rescue team would be packing up to start their trek. More than likely, though, they'd wait for the first bit of daylight.

Jack needed to replenish the supply of firewood since he'd used all of it to make the signal. Trying to step as quietly as he could, he moved farther away than before to where the broken branches and fallen trees hadn't yet been gathered, using his wimpy little flashlight to pick his way. He was no longer afraid of shadows in the trees. If he heard movement, he'd know what it was—the female wolf. Silver's mate. Standing guard.

He was no longer afraid of being shot, either, because if anyone out there wanted to shoot him, they'd have done it a lot sooner than this, rather than waiting around in the cold. And he was no longer worried about being lost. The search plane proved that help would soon be coming.

In fact, Jack was feeling pretty good. Firewood lay plentifully on the ground, most of it dry enough to burn. This area had escaped the terrible lightning fires of 1988, when half the park, it seemed, went up in flames. Jack carried armload after armload of wood back to the improvised fireplace. Each time he added fuel, he moved the fire a little closer to the wolf, even though he wasn't sure whether the animal was still breathing. Then, in the golden haze of the fire, Jack saw Silver shudder.

“Hey, boy,” he whispered softly. Squatting low, he reached out his hand toward Silver's muzzle. “You OK?”

For the briefest second, Silver's eyes opened. A small sigh of relief escaped Jack's lips.

Even though he knew he shouldn't touch anything that was wild, Jack let his fingers skim the fringe of Silver's thick coat. What a beautiful animal, Jack thought. In his mind he pictured Silver standing, wind ruffling his coat, on a jut of granite. He felt a surge of, what was it? Awe, yes, awe was what he felt. Up to that second, the wolf had been Troy's. Now, Jack thought, this wolf belongs to all of us. And to none of us.

“Come on, Silver, you're gonna make it,” he murmured. “Okay, boy? You've got to live.”

Silver's eyes drifted shut; he breathed shallowly, like a dog panting in the hot sun.

Letting his hand rest on Silver's head, Jack raised his eyes toward the sky. At their tops, the tall pines seemed to lean together, like people sharing secrets. In the clear circle at the center of the treetops hung a full, white moon. His breath caught at the beauty of it, at the pleasure of being the only one awake to see it all, and at the privilege of being alone with Silver. Let Troy go on thinking it was just the two of them, Silver and Troy. That would be OK, Jack decided.

After returning to where the others lay sleeping, Jack stacked the fire into a nice, safe, steady burn, then curled himself near it. Almost immediately, he slept again.

Not till the thin edge of the morning sun cleared the mountaintop did the fire's last embers turn to gray ash. Jack awoke feeling chilly, but not chilled to the bone. Troy's face, though, looked pale from cold, and he shivered hard. Then his eyelids flickered open.

“I'll start up the fire again,” Jack whispered.

“Is he alive? Silver? I didn't mean to fall asleep.” As though it hurt to straighten himself, Troy unwound and crawled onto his knees. He put his cheek right next to the wolf's nose. With wide eyes, he told Jack, “Hey! He's still breathing.”

“That's great, Troy,” Jack told him.

Instead of being wound up in a tight ball like Troy, Ashley slept curved in a question mark, her face resting against her pressed-together hands. The goose-down parka, good for temperatures as low as –20 degrees, had kept her warm enough that her cheeks were pink, not pinched like Troy's.

Jack reached for Troy's torn sneakers, which had sat close to the fire all night long. “They're dry now,” he said. “You better put them on.” The socks he'd given Troy were made of heavy ragg wool, but with no shoes on, Troy's feet must be like ice cubes, even though he'd huddled close to the fire most of the night. “How do your toes feel?” Jack asked. He hoped they weren't frostbitten.

“Fine. No—actually, my toes are real cold. But they shouldn't break off or anything,” he answered with a grin, making it the first time Jack had ever been on the receiving end of a smile from Troy.

As Troy reached for the shoes, one dropped, sending up a puff of wood ash that separated into feathery white flakes before settling back down. Ashley stirred. “Hi, guys,” she murmured. “Is Mom here yet?”

“Not yet,” Jack answered. Ashley looked so trusting, as though their mother might appear right that moment out of the trees, carrying a box of Cheerios and three bowls. Or, knowing their mother, with a box of granola and lots of plain yogurt.

Sitting up and stretching her arms, Ashley asked, “How's Silver?”

“Still alive.”

“Mom'll fix him up when she gets here.”

“I know it.”

They didn't have long to wait. By the time Jack had rebuilt a small fire and the entire circle of sun had risen to balance on an eastern peak, they heard the first yells in the distance. “Jack! Ashley! Can you hear us?”

“YEAH!” It was one of those embarrassing times when Jack's deepening voice broke. His squeak sounded like a rooster hit by a barn door.

Troy's voice was all-the-way deep. “Let me,” he told them. “WE'RE OVER HERE!”

First Olivia and Steven and Mike yelled. Then Jack and Ashley and Troy gave out answering yells. They kept it up while they ran, closing the gap between them as the yells guided them toward one another, with Troy far in the lead. Olivia and Steven had slid off their horses, and ran forward with their arms outstretched.

“Oh Mommy, I missed you!” Ashley cried as Olivia caught her in a tight hug. “What took you so long?”

That Ashley! Jack thought. No matter how brave she'd acted, she was only a ten-year-old kid who'd very badly wanted her mother. Jack felt his own eyes tear up when he got hugs from both parents. Relief rose in him, all the way up to his throat, because now he could let go and have the grown-ups take over.

Troy hung back awkwardly, watching, shifting from foot to foot in a nervous dance. He waited as long as he could before he burst out, “What about my mom?”

Steven gave Troy a quick hug and said, “No news yet. Maybe we'll hear something when we get back this time.”

“At least we found you,” Olivia murmured in a choked voice. “I told them it had to be your fire that Dad saw. I said if the kids are out there, Jack will build a signal fire.”

“You saw it, Dad?” Jack asked. “You were there in the airplane?”

“Yep,” Steven answered. “I made them take me. We flew all over this area. We didn't even spot the fire till three in the morning.”

“I know,” Olivia told them, “We never even got back from our investigation till nearly ten last night—that's when we reached park headquarters. Park rangers were waiting for us, and when I saw their faces, my heart jumped right into my throat. I've never been so panicked in my life,” Olivia said, hugging both her children at the same time. “I prayed and prayed—”

“I wanted to start searching right away on foot,” Steven said, “but Mike decided we'd do better in the airplane—”

“Were you cold? You must have been starved—”

Everyone was talking all at once, including Mike. “Poor Nicole,” he put in, “you know—the ranger who was supposed to meet you? An asphalt truck overturned where they were fixing the road, and she couldn't get past. When she finally made it to the parking lot, you kids were gone. First she was baffled, then later, after she'd searched all over the place and couldn't find you anywhere, she just about freaked.”

“Why did you leave the parking lot? You know you weren't supposed to—” Steven began, but Olivia squeezed his arm to silence him.

Slowly, everyone turned to look at Troy.

In a quiet voice, Olivia asked, “Were you trying to run away, Troy?”

Troy's gruff manner came back on him so fast it was as if he'd stepped into a darkened room. “No—is that what you thought?” he demanded. “Is that what you think?”

“But why did you—”

Just then, Mike grabbed his horse's bridle as the mare whinnied and stepped sideways, almost pushing him against a tree. “What is the matter with these horses?” he wondered. “They're all acting like they're scared of something.” The other two horses snorted and shook their heads. As one of them backed up, metal poles sticking out from its saddle pack banged against a tree trunk, nicking the bark.

“Watch out!” Mike shouted. “I don't want that stretcher to get bent. Whoa, girl. Take it easy. What is with you?”

Jack knew why the horses were nervous. They smelled wolf. Tugging his mother's hand, he said, “Come on, Mom and Dad. We have something to show you. Mike, you better tie the horses and leave them here.”

The sun was bright enough by then that they could catch glimpses of the black wolf, still pacing, but hovering farther away in the shelter of the trees. Now that there were six people coming toward her fallen mate, six humans who talked loudly and made noise as they tramped through the brush, the frightened female abandoned her watch. She turned tail to slink away.

“Oh, no,” Olivia said as soon as she reached the wounded wolf. She dropped to her knees beside it. Cautiously, she touched the bloody rib cage. “What happened? Do you know?”

“He got shot,” Troy said stiffly.

Nodding, Jack added, “Yeah, we saw him get hit. It happened right after you left.”

“Wait a minute, are you saying someone shot a gun in Yellowstone?” Mike barked. “Shooting any kind of firearm is illegal here. Hitting a wolf, an endangered species—well, that's big-time bad! Did you see who did it?”

“No, he was too far away,” Ashley told him. “But Troy followed the wolf because he wanted to save its life. And we followed Troy. That's why we weren't waiting for the ranger.” Ashley didn't mention how hard they'd tried to keep Troy with them, and all the arguing that had gone on before and after the wolf got shot.

“Oh, Troy,” Olivia murmured, “I'm sorry for what I said.”

“Forget it,” Troy muttered. “Just fix Silver.”

Gently parting the animal's fur with her fingers, Olivia examined the wound. “Ashley, you run back to the horses real quick and get my pack. Jack and Troy, you guys better bring the stretcher that's strapped to Mike's saddlebags.”

“We thought maybe one of you might be hurt and we'd have to carry you out,” Mike explained. “Good thing we brought the stretcher. He'll need it.” He gestured toward the wolf.

Steve said, “You kids must be starved. I'll bring some granola bars, too.”

Jack almost laughed out loud when he heard that. Granola!

Just what he'd expected.

“And juice,” Steve added. “We brought some juice, too.”

That sounded better. Jack realized thirst was bothering him more than hunger. The night before, whenever they got thirsty, they'd eaten snow. Although not a lot of snow had fallen before it stopped altogether, they had managed to scoop some where wind had blown small mounds of it against the trees. But after a night spent breathing wood smoke, Jack's throat felt dry and scratchy.

When all of them returned with the supplies, Olivia, still bent over the wolf, murmured, “You kids did a great job. The coldness made the wolf's bleeding nearly stop, yet the fire kept him from freezing. It couldn't have worked any better if I'd had him in the clinic.” From her pack she took a syringe, filled it, spurted out a little of the liquid, and injected the needle into the wolf's haunch.

“Cortisone,” she explained. “To reduce swelling. There's been a lot of bleeding here.” She pointed. “See, it's a grazing wound in the ribs along the chest wall. Good thing it didn't puncture the lung. Ribs will heal, but a penetrating lung wound would have killed him.”

“Look at those teeth,” Steven exclaimed, pointing to the wolf's partly open mouth. “They're not worn down at all. You can tell he's a young wolf, probably just starting to establish his own pack.”