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Darwin's Legacy

Chapter 16 - Cry Havoc

After Leandra released them from their cell Roark, Dylan and Darwin travelled all night and all the next day. By the time the sun was setting they were exhausted and could go no further. Inside the packs that the lioness had provided they found camping gear as well as the food and water that she had promised, but they ate a cold supper because Roark did not want to light a fire until they sure that no one was pursuing them. Then they settled down to sleep while keeping watch in shifts.

Roark woke the next morning to find Darwin studying the skyline in the direction of the kingdom. "What are you looking for?" He asked as he rubbed the sleep out of his eyes.

"Signs that we are being followed."

Roark waited for a moment for Darwin to continue. "And, are we?" He asked when the beagle did not volunteer more.

"I'm not sure. I thought that I saw some birds take flight back along our route there at dawn." He pointed downhill. "But they are a species that I'm not familiar with, and that may be their habit. I'll keep checking throughout the day and let you know if I find any definite sign." Darwin turned away from the west and pointed to a small fire with a pot of water boiling over it. "I collected dry hardwood so there would be hardly any smoke, like Snowdrop taught me. This breeze will disperse what little there is, and I made sure it is blowing away from the direction we came, as my uncle taught me. We should eat quickly and take advantage of the daylight."

"I thought you tracked by smell?" The drowsy voice of Dylan came out from the tangle of blankets beside Roark.

"Smell is a big part of it." Darwin admitted. "But my uncle says that master trackers use all of their senses. They note the colour of the leaves to see which ones have been turned over by casual contact. They feel the ground to tell where it has been compacted by the feet of travellers. They can taste the pollen from flowers disturbed by a creature's passage. They can sense when they are close to their prey ... or when someone is closing in on them."

It was a solemn speech, one that Roark would not have imagined coming from the wreck of a beagle that he had first met in a village tavern not so long ago. But the young dog had matured during the journey, and Roark had noted a particular change since Darwin had come out of his stupor back at the zoo. The young canine had been through a lot in his short life, more than Roark or Dylan together, the grey wolf realized, and if he had slipped away into an alcoholic haze or a withdrawn into his mind who could blame him? But he had come through the loss and the pain and it was a different dog that had come out the other side; one that Roark could respect.

"You want us to travel mainly during the day?" Roark asked.

"Yes. It's our best chance of picking up her trail. And if anyone is trailing us it will be easier to spot them."

"Alright then. Come on Dylan." Roark kicked the pile of blankets. "Get a move on."

A dark muzzle and two bright eyes emerged from a fold in the pile of fabric. "Only if you feed me."

"Breakfast is ready." Darwin replied, holding out a bowl of steaming porridge.

Dylan sniffed it and wrinkled his nose at the smell of boiled oats.

"Vegetarians." He signed.

* * * * * * * *

"Hold still you big oaf." Kaplan whispered loudly enough for anyone within a hundred yards to hear.

"Sorry." Rock reached to pick up the dead branch that he had snapped with a careless step but Nolan slapped his paw away.

"Just leave it." The wart hog looked up at the birds that had flushed at the sound and addressed a leopard that was shaking its head sadly at the thought of having to guide these three along the trail of the northerners.

"This is not going to work." The leopard hissed at Nolan. "You three are too big and clumsy. If you get anywhere close to them you will give us away. You should keep back."

"We'll lose them if we stay back, and it's vital that we see how they gain access to the facility."

"If they get in. But I'm not talking about us, just you three."

"What do you propose?"

"We follow." The spotted feline indicated himself and two other leopards. "You three rest during the day and catch up at night. We already know which direction they are headed, and we'll mark the trail well for you. When they get to the human place we'll make sure one of us is close enough to see and hear everything and report it to you."

Nolan knew that the knowledge of how to get inside was the most valuable commodity in the kingdom at the moment, and he assumed that the leopard knew it too. "What is to stop you from running straight back to the King with the information?"

The leopard scowled. "The King has it made it quite clear what would happen to our family if we tried to bypass the royal advisors in this instance. Apparently his majesty wants you to devise a plan immediately and have it ready to implement by the time the army catches up with us."

"Just making sure that you were aware of the circumstances." Nolan shrugged. They had just come from the crossroads where the army was assembling and they had not slept more than a few hours since arranging the escape of the three canines. "We'll rest today and then set out after you tonight on the southern path. Leave a sign where their trail crosses it and we'll turn to follow you from there. Off with you then." He said dismissively. The three leopards immediately disappeared into the foliage. All three of the King's advisors strained to detect signs of their movements but to no avail. After several minutes Kaplan broke the silence.

"So, we're to be camp buddies. Dibs for being on top."

"Oh, shut up." Nolan unpacked his bedroll and set it up as far from the big tiger as possible without leaving the clearing.

"Gee, what's eating him?"

Rock set his blankets down between the two. "No one, if he can help it."

* * * * * * * *

The three canines made their way north and east into the mountains at a slower pace than they had descended. They were further slowed by the need to avoid the path that they had descended on their way to the kingdom, as well as any other major routes they came across.

By the end of the second day they had crossed a ridge that cut off their view of the coast, and so could not tell if the southerners were preparing to move out to face the wolf invasion or in what direction. The land that they were moving through was still lush, but up ahead they could see the bald mountains that the lioness had referred to as their destination. It was still several days away, by Darwin's estimate, even if they found a direct route.

But a direct route looked unlikely. The hills were crisscrossed with game trails, and most of them showed signs of the southern hunters on them. They were faced with the choice of struggling cross country in thick bush or risking a chance meeting with a roving hunting party. They all agreed that exhausting themselves was a bad idea, and despite only having weapons that they made from what the forest could provide they felt that they could hold their own against a similar sized group of southerners if they could take them by surprise. They decided to risk contact and zigzag up the mountain using the game trails, keeping in a generally north-eastern direction.

Whenever they crossed a path that had been kept open by the southerners they would pause so that Darwin could examine it for a distance to each side. His skills were improving at a great pace, and he was able to estimate the length of time since the last passage and the size of the party, as well as whether they were moving slowly and cautiously or in a relaxed manner. More and more often however, as they gained altitude and the vegetation gave way to rock and dirt, he found signs of panicked flight.

"Several tigers walked in single file up this path." He indicated on the fifth day after examining a number of hairs he collected from the jagged rocks and thorn bushes. "Years ago, the day after a heavy rain. But only four tigers ran downhill, leaving their paw prints in the drying mud. It must have been the start of a dry spell because the tracks have been preserved so well. Further uphill I found a spot where at least three were killed. Their blood stained the porous rock in many places. But most of the bones are gone. Carried off by carrion eaters I suspect."

"What killed them?" Roark asked.

"I don't know. Some kind of projectile throwing weapon. There are chips in the stone and old scars on the few trees that indicate that it was very powerful. It also threw enough bolts or arrows or whatever to cover a wide area. I found some traces of copper and lead on the rocks. That's an unusual composition for an arrowhead or crossbow bolt."

"Is it dangerous to follow the path they were killed on?"

"More of the zoo species have been up here since. Maybe they're the ones that took the bones and collected the projectiles. In any event, their tracks go further than this unlucky bunch." The dog paused, sampling the air with his sensitive nose. "I don't like the smell of things around here. Death lingers in the air. A cold, metallic death." They decided to keep to the games trails for another day.

By now they were high enough up to have left most of the trees behind and had to move from bush to bush if they wanted to stay hidden. After a chilly night with no fire they moved upward again, and soon there were no bushes left either, just short grasses and alpine flowers with tiny petals and the occasional stunted pine. It reminded Roark and Dylan of their homeland. Being familiar with that type of terrain they were able to pick a route that took advantage of the cover the large boulders provided. Several times during the day they came across old roads that must have been from the human era, and each time they did Darwin found evidence of southerner expeditions that ended in death.

They finally topped a crest that looked down on a vast empty expanse that ended in a cliff. A large section of the plain had once been enclosed by a double fence, but now only a few sections remained standing. In the centre of the cliff was a tunnel entrance, twenty feet high and made from the artificial stone the foxes called concrete. It was barred by massive gates that looked to be made of solid steel. Suspicious portals and hatches lined the walls to either side, and the whole area was devoid of life. They had arrived at the human installation.

The three companions studied the scene silently for many minutes before easing their way back to the west side of the crest where they could talk.

"Do you think that there is any danger?" Roark asked Darwin.

"Yes. The whole place reeks of death and metal and ... something, something .... oily."

"Like fish oil?" Dylan inquired.

"Sort of, but more mineral-like, if that makes any sense."

Roark pointed his snout to the sky and sniffed the air. "Yes, I smell it too. But will they fire on us if we approach?"

"Our captors talked freely around me when I was out of my senses." Darwin said without a trace of embarrassment or remorse. "I could hear them but I could not process what they talking about. Still, some of what they said comes back to me. I get the impression that the thing that scared them the most about this place was the impersonal nature of the defences. Death came the instant one was detected. If that is so we would be cut down long before we get within hailing distance."

Dylan stood up wearily. "But we can't know that for sure until one of us tries it." He turned uphill and began to mount the crest slowly on his spindly legs. "And since I have the least to lose ..."

"Wait!" Roark said as something downhill caught his eye. "There is another way. You two take positions on the ridge where you can observe the plain and wait for me." Before either could ask for an explanation Roark was gone, bounding downhill between the boulders.

Dylan and Darwin crawled back to top the crest and found some cover to observe from. They kept their eyes on the tunnel entrance and the road leading to it, especially the area near the fence line where several dark stains marred the ochre rock. They lay silently for fifteen minutes waiting for Roark to reappear.

"You don't think that he's going to try to get in himself, do you?" Darwin whispered to Dylan when he could not take the silence anymore.

"No. He's lonely, but he's not suicidal."

Darwin turned to look at the hunchbacked wolf. "Lonely? But he has you. And your friends back in the caravan."

"Believe me; he is as lonely as you. He pretends not to be, but I can tell. We both left someone we loved dearly back at the pack and the fact that we have no idea how she is faring with this war going on is eating away at us both. He has also fallen in love with the mate of our caravan leader, although he won't admit to that either."

"He's in love with two females? At the same time?"

"It's a different kind of love than that you share Snowdrop. His love for the Lady Aster is more ... chivalrous, I think is the word Dead Eye used to describe it. A non-physical, idealistic, romantic sort of love. His love for Annie, a female companion from our cubhood, is more familial, like that of a brother has for his little sister." I hope that's all it is, anyway, Dylan added to himself.

Darwin was about to ask more about Annie but they were interrupted by the rush of hoof beats and the sound of a large creature crashing through the bush.

"Hai! Hai!" Roark's voice came from somewhere behind it.

It sounded like the creature was coming straight for them, and both were tempted to roll out from under the bush they were hiding under, but a glance between them confirmed that they should trust Roark and hold their positions.

A moment later something leapt over the crest just to the left of their position. It was a large buck, with a broad white chest and large antlers. Darwin counted at least eight points on them before the buck bounded away down the hill. The deer started to turn left, trying to avoid the open ground and the smell of old blood, but a rock sailed over the ridge and landed in front of it, making it change course and head back towards the tunnel entrance.

Unseen behind them, Roark kept lobbing rocks and stones, using a sling he had made from the material of one of the blankets earlier in their journey. It was accurate enough to keep the deer moving toward the killing zone, if not straight for the tunnel. Dylan and Darwin held their breath as the buck neared the fence line.

The buck slowed to a stop, sniffing cautiously at the remnants of the fences. It shook its big head in disgust at the artificial smell and took two steps backward before tensing to turn and run. Dylan heard a grunt behind him as a small rock flew across the distance between their observation post and the deer, striking it on its backside. With a cry of surprise the buck leapt over the gap between the fallen fences and ran straight for the tunnel.

It did not get far.

Fire and light erupted from four of the portals that flanked the tunnel entrance. A noise, like rippling thunder, accompanied it, and the passage of whatever was being sent out from the facility cracked the air. Chips of stone flew and puffs of dirt rose as the projectiles ricocheted off the bare ground and whined away into the sky. Some of the projectiles trailed fire, like fire arrows at night, but they were moving much faster any arrow or bolt that they had ever seen. Darwin could see four lines of light formed by the glowing missiles converging on the deer, which was panicking now.

None of them could believe what they saw next. The lines came together right where the buck was standing and it almost exploded. Chunks of flesh and sprays of blood flew off it in all directions as it fought to stay upright. The force of that deadly rain drove it back and, sensing that it was in a fight to the death, it struggled to move forward instinctively. Finally its legs were torn out from under it and it collapsed to the dirt. The hail of projectiles continued until the deer had ceased moving completely.

Roark and Dylan, even with their battle experience, were slack jawed in awe. Nothing they had ever seen or heard of could cause that kind of destruction in such a short time. It was no wonder that the southerners believed that the humans held the weaponry that could help them defeat Ang-Ro's approaching army. They heard a hacking noise and looked around. Darwin, who had tracked several deer that were severely wounded but not killed by the hunters and had put them out of their misery with a quick slice across the carotid artery, was throwing up the morning's porridge.

"I ... I expected arrows, or bolts." He gasped as he wiped the strings of vomit from his jaw. "Maybe even a siege weapon like the one you used to carry, Dylan. A spear the length of a post and as thick as your arm going right through it I could have handled. But not that. That was unnecessarily cruel and ...evil. Why would they build something like that?"

Roark was feeling guilty for driving the buck into the line of fire, but a glance at Dylan reminded him of what the alternative had been. "It looks like it was meant to stop a much larger force from attacking the fence in several different places simultaneously." He said. "A single target was overkill."

"Look!" Dylan shook his friend's arm and pointed to where the remains of the deer lay. Crows and weasels were gathering around the corpse, fighting over the scraps. The stoats climbed on the carcass and hissed at the birds while the crows flapped their wings and peeked at the little mammals, but soon they retired to opposite sides of the body to feast.

"That's interesting." Roark said. "It didn't shot at them. Maybe if we stay low we can crawl up to the wall where they can't get us and follow it to the entrance. Once there ..."

He was interrupted by a high-pitched cry from above. They all looked up. It was a flight of vultures. They must have been nesting on the cliffs overlooking the plain. They were now descending fast in sweeping circles from on high. Their target was plainly the fresh corpse.

The vultures swooped to the ground, landing behind the corpse. They waddled in a particular way that the wolves, familiar with the vultures that followed their hunting parties, had not seen before as it approached the body and began feeding. Most of the crows and weasels made way for them, but not all. One light brown mammal hissed as a vulture nearly stepped on it and sunk its teeth into the bird's leg.

The bird instinctively rose up into a fighting position with its neck extended and wings spread to make it look larger and more threatening. That was its last mistake in this world. A burst of fire shot out of one portal and it was torn to shreds before the three canines watching could blink. The rest of the carrion eaters scattered in all directions. Those that ran toward the crest, or parallel to the cliffs, were fine, but those that ran toward the tunnel were not. Despite their small size when they crossed an invisible line roughly halfway between the dead deer and the portal the defences came to life again. All the scavengers that had run that way were dealt with in a series of short bursts.

"Maybe crawling is not such a good idea.' Dylan opined.

Roark agreed. "What do we do now?"

"This is not the way Snowdrop came," Darwin said, "so we must have come to far south. They must have another entrance. We should circle around that way," he pointed northward, "until we come across her trail."

"Alright then." Roark said. He slid back below the crest, stood up and began to brush the dust from his fur and clothes. "There are still a couple of hours of light left. Let's get as far away from this place as we can."

His companions offered silent agreement. From the far side of the crest the noise of the crows and the hissing of the weasels indicated that the inhabitants of the small plain were back to their feast.

* * * * * * * *

"What happened?" Tom demanded of George the instant he entered the control room for the facility's defences.

George was reviewing the electronic record from one of the few cameras that still worked. "A big buck ran right up to the old fence and then leapt in." He said with some wonder as the image replayed. He winced at the following few seconds. "It didn't stand a chance."

The two of them watched as the scavengers gathered, scattered, died and reassembled.

"Funny." Tom commented. I thought that the local deer had all learned to avoid the plain outside our front door."

"Maybe he was not from around here."

"Anything salvageable?"

"Maybe a rump roast and a few steaks from the hind quarters. But the forequarters are pretty badly torn up." George played the clip again and studied the animal as it fell.

"Hey, what was that, on the crest?" Tom pointed to a shadow below a bush that was there one second and gone the next. They watched that segment several times under different magnifications but learned nothing new.

George shrugged "Maybe its mate. Maybe whatever chased it over the ridge. It's hard to say."

"It's gone, in any event." Tom noted as he selected a long sharp fighting knife from the weapons rack and rummaged around for a plastic bag to carry the meat he intended to harvest with it. "Turn off the guns, but keep an eye out, just in case, eh?"

"Sure." George flicked a switch and panned the camera across the ridge with a frown on his face. If anything appeared while ray was outside he could target it and fire on manual without fear of hitting his fellow scientist, but he hoped that it would not come to that. The latest action had seriously depleted what was left of their ammunition, and he had a weird feeling that they were going to need all that they could get their hands on soon.

* * * * * * * *

It took Ang-Ro's forces almost a week to fight through the southerners that were blocking the exit to the gap, and it was some of the hardest fighting that his troops had even seen. The southerner's were strong and savage in their determination. Ang-Ro's army, however, was tired and demoralized. They did not understand why they had to leave their valley, which was big enough for many generations of wolves to spread out in. They were taken aback by how well the southern fought, and aghast at the fact that every single corpse they had come across was a female. They did not understand why that was, and not knowing made them afraid.

Ang-Ro strutted between rows of fresh corpses, trying to look stern and pleased, but he was having trouble keeping his face from twitching. The stress of this past week had been incredible. Desertions were up, even among the wolves of his home pack. Ro-Da used her special troops, the Devil's Battalion, to round up those they could and then they tortured them publicly to discourage the others from fleeing, but still the numbers were rising.

Ang-Ro had left his mate and her amusements back at the main camp and gone forward to personally supervise the fighting. It had not been much better. Two of his generals had challenged him openly and he had to kill both of them in single combat. That alone was not enough to make the others fall into line so he had demoted some and replaced them with younger wolves, ones whose eagerness unfortunately outstripped their abilities. It looked like they would never break the southern lines.

But at dawn this morning Ro-Da had sent her shock troops down the hill to join the battle. In a drug-induced euphoria they had launched themselves at the defences with all the abandon of true immortals. One out of every five fell in that initial rush, but they broke through. Such was the surprise of the regular army that they found themselves joining in the melee without thinking, an act that turned the tide of battle in Ang-Ro's favour. They split the southern forces in two and enveloped them before they knew what was happening. By noon it had all been over.

Ang-Ro would have offered them a chance to surrender, he wanted them to surrender, not die, but he never got the chance. Crusher, the huge doberman that had taken command of the shock troops by dint of his great strength, ferocity and cruelty, led what was left of his battalion on a killing spree. Any Southerner that fought on was slaughtered by small gangs of the brutal canines and felines from his unit. Any Southerner that lay down her arms was immediately set upon and raped by the same gangs, then killed. At the moment it appeared that the gangs had run out of live victims and were brutalizing the corpses.

Some of the wolf officers initially tried to put a stop to it. The lucky ones were merely beaten for their trouble. An unfortunate few were hauled away to face Ro-Da, because she had issued an order that no one was to interfere with her personal force. Now the wolves just gaped at the atrocities and shot angry looks in Ang-Ro's direction. He tried to ignore both the acts of the Devil's battalion and the accusing stares.

He turned to look down on the valley that they had gained access to by destroying the defences. Not because he needed to, but because his left cheek was twitching uncontrollably and he did not want anyone to see. But he realized that had lost control of more than his face, and he suspected that everyone already knew.

A slim wolf came into view, running up the trail that they had just liberated. Six days ago a number of their scouts had managed to slip around the blockade to search the area behind them for more of the southerners, especially the males. This must be one of them returning, hopefully with good news. As he drew nearer Ang-Ro recognized Ru-Kor, a scout from his own pack. The one that lived with another male, Lo-Lo, he recalled. No matter, anyone who was still loyal was fine in his opinion. Ru-Kor spotted the leader and angled to intercept him.

"Scout reporting." Ru-Kor said between breaths as he skidded to a halt before the supreme leader of the wolf alliance. Ang-Ro knew that Ro-Da would prefer that he wait and report when she was present but Ang-Ro waved him to continue in a small act of defiance. Ru-Kor was momentarily distracted by a gang of dogs that was stripping the skin off a lioness. Ang-Ro snapped his digits and the scout focused on his task.

"We have found another army, made up of males. As suspected they are much larger than the females that they left here to delay us. They are assembled several days march south of here. They had just started moving out when we found them. I returned right away to report. The remainder of the scouts are keeping tabs on their progress. One will return every day to report until we either run out of scouts or you catch up to them."

Ang-Ro had been looking at the valley south of them, only half listening. He was wondering whether there was any ground between him and the King's army that would give him a tactical advantage and whether he could get his army there before the King's seized it. He looked back at the scout with a puzzled frown.

"Catch up to them? You meant that they are not coming north to face us?"

"No, Ang-Ro. They are headed south and east, into the high mountains."

* * * * * * * *

Annie lay in a ditch beside a roadway that ran through the thick forest east of the river that bisected the valley. She had been told that it was one of the old human roads, one made of crushed stone. It meandered through the forest, following the contours of the land and avoiding all of the major towns and encampments. The foxes used it to move through the valley rapidly when they had finished trading at the end of the season and needed to get back to their winter campgrounds quickly. Unfortunately the wolves had found it too.

The Valley Freedom Force, of VFF as Smokey had dubbed his ragtag army of insurgents, had been running ahead of the fox's army, using this road and others to move south quickly, spreading rebellion. When they came upon a strongpoint occupied by the invaders they sent word back to Silver Tip and left a small reconnaissance party behind before slipping around and continuing on. The foxes would arrive already knowing the tactical situation and roll right into their attack. Meanwhile, their supply caravans continued to move steadily up behind them. If the strongpoint was particularly large or well defended the machines that towed the caravans would be unhitched and sent forward to lead the attack.

Annie had stayed behind with Aster to witness one such assault. Even though their side won it had been terrible to behold. The huge steel machines that ran on fuel made from the seeds of yellow topped plants made a horrible noise as they rumbled slowly forward. As they approached the walls and barriers that the wolves had set up they began to spew fire, destroying any wooden structures and forcing the defenders to back away. The machines themselves were impervious to ordinary arrows and cross bow bolts, but they carried weapons called guns that spit projectiles of copper and lead so fast that they split the air with their passage. They also split wooden shields and hardened leather armour and anyone sheltering behind them. When they encountered walls made of stone or chunks of salvaged concrete they lobbed explosive charges against them, sending rocky shrapnel flying in all directions. By the time the machines crushed the remains of the defences and the foxes poured in on horseback to finish the job it was already a slaughter.

Along with the wolves and any other species that had decided to join them, these assaults killed or wounded the occasional non-combatant. They also did a considerable amount of damage to the village or encampment that was being liberated. Aster, as the de facto leader of the feline-canine VFF, complained to Silver Tip about the excess.

"It cannot be done quickly without using all the force we have available, and you know why we have a need for haste." Silver Tip had replied, referring to the possibility that either the King or Ang-Ro would seize and use the weapons that could split the continent in two and send them all into the sea. "And we are using as much restraint as we dare."

He had gone on to explain that the machines were capable of throwing their explosive charges into the towns from a distance, but that would destroy the entire settlement and all of the inhabitants. They also had smaller versions of the guns that were mounted on the machines, called rifles, that individual foxes could carry, but they were not using them because the bullets could pass through the wooden shelters and cause even more casualties among the citizens.

The rifles were also very scarce, and the ammunition limited. Misfires were common, and any fox that relied on a firearm alone was likely to find themselves using it as a club against a large angry wolf with a sword. Silver Tip preferred to save the firearms for a last, decisive battle, but he did give Aster's bodyguard several weapons that he called pistols.

They were not relics, but something the foxes had manufactured. They were small enough to use with one paw, but heavy and unwieldy. They could fire but one bullet at a time and took several seconds to reload, but a single heavy slug that they fired could take out even a great bear if you hit it in the chest, or so Silver Tip claimed.

"Use them as a last resort." He told them "Aster cannot be captured ...alive."

And so they continued to move south liberating canines and felines as they went. With every victory Smokey's forces swelled. Needing only so many to clear the route for the foxes he sent the rest out to the east and west to spread the revolution. Soon the smaller garrisons were being overrun by mixed gangs of felines and canines, and the wolves were on the run.

There was talk of splitting the insurgent force into two armies, one feline and one canine, under the leadership of a Deputy Chief that had come from the same village where Dead Eye had left Roark and Dylan with the beagle. But Aster insisted that the freedom fighters remain an integrated force, and she appointed the dog as co-commander. He swore fidelity to her, and by doing so half of the felines were willing to go with him to continue the liberation on the west side of the river while half of the canines stayed with Smokey's group on the east side. And in that manner they sped along, barely able to keep ahead of the rapidly advancing foxes.

But the wolves left behind in the north were not defeated yet. Besides securing Ang-Ro's rear they were tasked with supplying the wolf army and the packs back in the home dens with food harvested from the river valley. Many of the local commanders were still trying to fulfill that mission by pillaging the storehouses and fleeing with as much as they could carry.

It was Silver Tip's policy that any lone wolf or small group caught moving back to their mountains in the west would be allowed to continue, after questioning and being stripped of any canine or feline valuables they may have "inadvertently" taken with them. Dogs, cats and coyotes pressed into service who had deserted were welcome to join the VFF. Those who had fought willingly for the wolves would be given the opportunity to redeem themselves in battle, otherwise they were to be held for trial after the war. Any supplies being sent either to the alliance army or the mountains was to be surrendered, and any resistance was to be dealt with swiftly.

Of course, marching up to a well-armed force and informing them that they had to surrender or fight usually resulted in a prolonged and bloody battle, unless your force was totally overwhelming, which theirs was not, not usually. So in practical terms it was best to ambush the supply convoys and rout the escorts if possible. The feline warriors, with their superior forest field craft, could round up the strays easily enough. In order to surprise them, however one had to have scouts out front, to each side, and even watching behind, because a group of wolves could appear from an unexpected direction, and often did.

That was why Annie was currently laying in a muddy ditch, flanked by Dead Eye on her left and Tig on her right, because their rear guard had reported a group of wolves driving a pack of canines bearing supplies southward on the same route they were using.

As the official chaperone for the Lady Aster, Annie traveled with Smokey's headquarters group, which was several miles behind the leading edge of the VFF forces on this side of the river, and about the same distance ahead of the main body. From this position Smokey could move up to see the situation whenever the vanguard encountered resistance and direct the follow-on forces straight from their marching formation into battle. The only drawback was the risk the enemy penetrating their marching order either deliberately or by accident, as appeared to be the case at the moment.

The situation had been predicted, and the agreed practice was that the entire headquarters group would move off the road and hide until the pursuing force went by, sending word ahead for the vanguard to turn around and deal with them. Unfortunately the Vanguard reported running into a similar group at the same time the rearguard reported that there were wolves behind them. Allowing the wolves to move forward unhindered meant that they would come up on the forward troop while it was engaged to the front with another enemy, effectively enveloping the VFF vanguard.

The headquarters element could turn and face them, and try to hold them off until the main body closed up and overwhelmed the wolves. But while there were a few seasoned warriors in the group they were too few, and there was no way to get a message back to the main body to hurry them forward. An ambush was their only option.

There was a short stretch of straight road between two blind curves that was a perfect spot. Smokey had arranged his force on the uphill side of the road while workers prepared trees for felling at each end. The downhill slope was left open to give the wolves somewhere to run, otherwise, if they felt trapped, they would stand and fight all the fiercer. But several of the best archers in the group were sent down slope to pick off the escaping wolves.

Smokey persuaded Aster to move to a safe distance up slope, with the few other females that were in the party. It was Annie's duty, as well as that of Tig and Dead Eye, to stay with her and protect her, but the young she-wolf suggested that the three of them could do that better by bolstering the line closer to the road. She had, after all, killed several wolves during her escape from Ang-Ro's alliance, and the two foxes had racked up scores of bodies between them. Smokey, strapped for troops, was forced to consider their proposal.

The feline general studied the three unlikely companions; a young and stunningly beautiful wolf carrying a forest bow and a short spear, a grizzled old fox with a black eye patch and a belt hung with the body parts of his former enemies, and the diminutive throwback with his wide-brimmed hat, feathers and cape.

"When the wolves are fully in the trap," Smokey said with the slightest of grins, "just stand up. We can kill them at our leisure while they are frozen in shock." Then the lookouts had signaled that the wolves were approaching and Annie took her position between Tig and Dead Eye as Smokey slipped away.

Annie was not very proficient with a bow, and there maybe wolves within arm's length when they jumped up out of the ditch, so she slung her bow and kept her spear ready. She could already hear the tramp of the bearers' feet on the hard-packed road, and as they drew closer, the curses of their guards as they urged them on. By sound she tracked the front of the group as it drew abreast of her position and passed her. It would not be long now.

The signal to attack was the crack of the trees falling across the road, blocking the convoy from advancing or retreating. The confused calls of the wolves mingled with the war cries of the felines and she leapt up to find herself face-to-face with a familiar looking wolf.

It was a short, slight and grey, small for a wolf. Back home such a wolf would not be likely to find a mate, and Annie remembered that he was one of her first customers when she was named a Mi-Ran, a pack courtesan. That was in the days before the alliance, before Ang-Ro had reserved her services exclusively for the senior leaders. He had been sweet, shy, and quick, and she had only ever seen him again around the meal fire. Bandages with old blood stains were wrapped around his upper arm and chest.

They stood there frozen, their eyes locked, oblivious of the battle raging around them. "Mi-Ran?" He asked tentatively, frowning, perhaps remembering that she had deserted the alliance some months ago. After he spoke he slowly raised his right paw. He was holding a short sword in it.

Annie knew that she should do something, but in her mind she could not equate the young wolf from her home pack with the enemy. He, however, did not seem to have the same problem. He snarled and raised his sword for a killing blow.

Suddenly his expression changed. He looked down, as did Annie, and they both saw six inches of bloody steel protruding from his belly. The offending blade retreated, and the young wolf's eyes rolled back in its head as he slumped to the ground. Behind him stood Smokey, holding a long bone-handled dagger.

"What I said earlier, I was not really serious." He said, searching Annie's face for signs of battle shock.

"Duck" she relied.

"Wha ..."

"Duck!"

Smokey dropped to the roadway as something whistled over his head. Annie thrust her spear through the space where his face had been instant before and pierced the throat of a large brown wolf that had been sneaking up behind him with a club. Annie stepped forward to keep the blade of the spear in the wolf's neck as it grabbed the shaft and tried to pull it out. When his paws became soaked with his own blood and began slipping she twisted the spear savagely, ripping a hole that spurted bright red arterial blood in an arc that passed over her head. The spear was torn from her paws as he fell, still gripping the shaft.

"That is more like it." Smokey commented as he rose to his feet. Around them the dogs that had been forced into carrying supplies for the wolves, mostly stocky working breeds, were cowering on the ground. Several small battles, mostly involving two or more of Smokey's force against lone wolves, were just ending, and all in the feline's favour. One of the canines fighting with Smokey's group was going around and reassuring the dogs, while several warriors were guarding a group of wolves that had surrendered. A number of others were chasing wolves who had chosen to flee through the forest. Tig and Dead Eye had joined them. Seeing all in order Smokey bent to examine the two wolves he and Annie had dispatched.

"A small one and a big one, but both have fresh battle wounds, a common sight among the killed and captured. It appears that only the wolves unfit for battle are being used to keep the supply chain running. And there is no shortage of walking wounded to assign the task too. What do you infer from that, Miss Annie?"

All of the felines had taken to addressing her as Miss Annie since she had taken up station with their leader, Lady Aster. Annie shrugged it off and answered after a moment's thought.

"That the wolf alliance is having a hard time in the south. He has called up every able bodied wolf and replaced them with those that should be convalescing in their dens."

"Just what I was thinking." Smokey replied. "How did you like your first battle, Miss Annie?"

"I would rather not have had the experience." She replied sadly and pointed at the smaller of the two dead wolves. "I knew the younger one."

Smokey's eyes lit up with understanding. "Ah, that is always hard, fighting those of your own tribe. It explains why you hesitated. What was it that he called you? Mee-Ran?"

Annie held his gaze. "Yes. It a title in our language for one who ..."

"I know what it means." Smokey waved her into silence. "Foxes talk, bringing tales of the, ah, spicier variety when discussing the cultural aspects of other species. Oh, not those two." He added hastily when he saw her cast a deadly glance in the direction Tig and Dead Eye had gone. "They have never mentioned anything about your former life to me or anyone else as far as I know." He bent down and picked up her spear from where it fell and cleaned it with a cloth he pulled from a bag slung over his shoulder before passing it back to her. "Life as a warrior suits you better."

Annie was trying to think of an appropriate reply when they were interrupted by the sound of hoof beats. They both looked in the direction that the wolves had come from in time to see Silver Fox leap his horse over the fallen tree at that end. Behind him they could see the main body of Smokey's force and a number of other foxes on horseback. Silver Tip slowed his steed to a walk and angled it toward the feline general and the young she-wolf. While they exchanged greetings others cleared the road and they were soon joined by the canine general and Silver Tips chief advisors. Word was sent to Aster that it was safe to descend and they all waited patiently for her to arrive before Siler Tip would reveal why he had gathered them all here.

"The wolves are abandoning the towns, villages and encampments ahead of us. The route north is clear." The old fox announced, and cheering broke out among the assembly. He raised his voice to silence them. "But our work is not yet done. Many are fleeing north to join their leader, bringing valuable supplies with them. Others are raping and pillaging as they head back to the mountains, leaving anarchy in their wake. And many settlements are still in their grip. You canines and felines need to hurry back to you homes and re-establish order where they have left and liberate the remainder. By doing so you will also secure our rear so that we may continue the advance and, with luck, catch up to Ang-Ro before he can acquire weapons more advanced than ours."

He left it there, because only a very few of the other species knew about the possibility of Ang-Ro or the King actually recommencing the large-scale destruction that the humans had unleashed on the world so long ago. But he had said enough to convince most of the felines and canines that it was a good plan. Smokey and his canine counterpart immediately set about figuring out how they would implement it.

"Lady Aster," Silver Tip addressed his spouse formerly, as one species leader to another. "Will you stay with your Brother and the dogs that have pledged their allegiance to you to oversee the establishment of good order, or return to our home and our child?" As stone faced as the old fox was, his desire to see her return to the safety of the winter campgrounds was plain.

"Neither, Lord Silver Tip. As the leader of the VFF and all the free species in the river valley save for the foxes I intend to accompany you to see that their interests are represented when the enemy is defeated, as I am certain that they will be."

Surprise and anger flashed on his face before he regained his composure. "The battlefield is no place for a ... an inspirational leader, such as yourself. It is too dangerous. The wolves could counterattack and penetrate our lines unexpectedly and you could be killed, or worse, captured. Think about that for a moment."

"I have thought about it." She said calmly. "And the risk does not outweigh the need for me to be there." She stepped closer and whispered into her mate's ear. "Coming out of your caves and showing the full force of the fox might has caused many a canine and cat to wonder what role the foxes will play in the world after this war is done. Will you be our masters or our mentors? Either brings a certain amount of resentment. If you hope to have peace in this valley after defeating the wolves and the southerners you must cooperate and bring the other species in from the beginning. Right now, despite being your mate, or because of it, I am the only one they trust who has influence over the leader of the foxes."

"What of our son? What if we both die? Would you leave him an orphan?"

"If we win, but we both die, our families can raise him with stories of our bravery and commitment. If we lose, then there is no future for any of us. But I think that we will either win and survive, or go down with what is left of the world in one blinding flash of light. Either way, I want to be with you at the end of it all, whether that comes on a bloody southern battlefield or in our bed surrounded by great-grandchildren." She pinched his cheek where the others could not see. "So like it or not, I am coming with you."

The others never knew what she had said to him, but they knew that his acquiescence to her demands was strained.

"It is a bad thing, mates being on opposite sides of the political divide." Her brother commented to Annie as she, Tig and Dead Eye gathered their things to accompany Aster.

"I'm not so sure." Annie replied, thinking of Ang-Ro, who, if he had stood up to Ro-Da's ambitions to rule the entire world, might be sitting in the mountains right now, safely and securely in command of the greatest alliance of wolves their species had ever seen. "Maybe it is in the nature of great leaders to seek out those with the same strength of character." Or weaknesses, she thought of her own kind's leaders again.

"Maybe." Smokey conceded. Then he took Annie by the shoulders and looked down on her with a serious expression. "You will keep her safe?"

"I will give my life for her." Annie replied.

Smokey kissed her on the forehead in what she had learned was a ceremonial goodbye between feline brothers and sisters.

"Let us hope it does not come to that."

* * * * * * * *

It was slow going in the high mountains. The terrain was rough and the cover minimal and the perimeter of the facility was bigger than they had anticipated. There was also a lot of sign to check out, but for the next few days it always turned out to be old, from the southerner's forays to the human installation. But on the fifth day since the death of the buck, after circling around one hundred and eighty degrees, Darwin found fresh sign.

"Look here!" He shouted excitedly and waved a tuft of reddish fur under their noses. "It's fox fur, and less than two weeks old. There's a lot more up ahead. From a number of different foxes I'll wager."

Roark examined the fur. "They must have chased her all the way from where we lost her." He looked around at the rough ground. "How did she manage to keep moving in her condition?"

"She must be very determined." Dylan supposed.

"She was." Darwin agreed. "Enough to defy her tribe's taboos and teach a clumsy young dog the ways of her folk." He threw down the tuft and began searching the rocky ground again. "The stones they dislodged are all displaced to the north, meaning they were heading south."

Dylan looked for himself. "Could they not have kicked them forward while dragging their feet?"

Darwin pointed out several places where the dust on the rock was disturbed. "The length of their stride shows that they were trotting, and a fox trots with its knees up. And they were scrambling uphill, and more likely to slip backwards than kick things forwards."

"Who taught you how to track in this kind of terrain?" Roark asked, curious.

"There are dry riverbeds and rocky escarpments in the forest." The beagle replied. "The felines would use them to throw us off but the best trackers, like my uncle Mordecai, could read the signs on the barest ground. He never formally taught me how to do it. He just casually pointed things out whenever we went out together. I just seem to be able to recall them better now and apply them when I never could before."

Roark patted the smaller canine on the shoulder and left his paw there for a moment in a fatherly manner. "That is what determination can do for you." He said, as proud for the young dog's progress as if he had been one of Roark's pack. "It focuses you."

Darwin smiled and set out to follow the trail left by the band of foxes. Minutes later he came back with a few strands of jet-black fur. "Feline." He said happily. "That is easy enough to tell. And it came from Snowdrop's coat, I can guarantee that." The skin around the young beagle's face flushed red under the sparse fur, and Roark refrained from asking him how he knew it was hers.

"It's getting late." He said instead. "Let's settle down for the night and continue tomorrow morning when its light. Darwin was eager to carry on but he could see the sense in waiting, it would not do to stumble upon defences like those at the other entrance. Together the three of them prepared their camp and ate another cold meal. Roark took the first watch.

"Do you think that the humans will really dissect her alive?" Darwin whispered to Dylan after they had wrapped their blankets around them.

"I don't see why they would." Dylan whispered back reassuringly, although he feared that they may. Anyone that kept wolves and other animals in cages like the ones they saw in the zoo and used weapons that could cut an innocent wandering deer in two was liable to do anything, in his opinion, but he kept that to himself. "If they were as advanced as Diego claimed that they were they probably had non-invasive forms of examining her. They would certainly wait until after the pregnancy in any event, so they could see the birth of a new species. When will she be due?"

Darwin counted the months since he was dragged away from Snowdrop on his digits and did some mental calculations. "Any day now." He said glumly. "If all this excitement has not caused a premature birth."

Dylan needed something to distract the suddenly morose canine. "Tell me about her again." He asked, shifting closer. Darwin began to speak, and kept on through the first three watches. Dylan could hardly keep his eyes open after the second watch, and even Darwin was yawning uncontrollably by the end of the third. The next morning, however, Darwin bounded out of his bedroll eager to begin the day that he hoped would see him reunited with his love.

The sign they had found the day before was on a natural roadway that ran between a ridge and a line of cliffs to the east. After a hasty breakfast the three turned south and followed it at a rapid walk, with Darwin pointing out the more obvious signs of the foxes' passage. They and their canine helpers had obviously not been concerned with being tracked and their trail was easy to follow.

The roadway became narrower until it was just a path between the cliff and a steep drop off. There was no real need to look for sign as there was nowhere to go but straight up or straight down, but Darwin continued to examine whatever bits of debris he found. Many of them were pieces of hide or material that had seen better days, just rags really, and he wondered out loud why the foxes were dressed so poorly. The mystery was solved an hour later when he found some rabbit pelt that had been worked into a moccasin in the feline style.

"Snowdrop's tribe made ones like this." He informed the two wolves. "She must have scrounged bits and pieces of whatever she could get her paws on to make clothing and kit for her escape. That would explain the rags we found along the trail."

Dylan examined the moccasin, which was stitched with mismatched leather thongs. "She would have had to be planning her escape for a long time."

"Maybe not planning so much as preparing to take advantage of an opportunity." Roark supposed. "Just the act of collecting and making the things she would need would have given her the strength to go on." His estimate of the feline's character and force of will went up another two notches in his mind. He wondered if her reputed beauty was a match for her personality, or might even exceed it. Then he put that thought out of his head, he had enough female trouble with being smitten with the spouse of his patron, he did not need to take on any more.

Soon they had to descend a steep slope leading to the floor of a narrow pass between the mountains. Running through it was another of the old black-top roads that the humans had built before the change. This one was in surprisingly good shape, Roark noted. Probability because the altitude and arid climate kept vegetation to a minimum here, he supposed. Crossing the road they picked up the trail of Snowdrop and the foxes easily enough. She had followed a path that wound its way up the opposite slope before following the contours of the land around to the eastern side of the mountain that housed the human installation.

Darwin became more vigilant as he approached the summit. He found no sign that the southerners had ever visited this area, but traces of human artefacts similar to those at the other entrance littered the approach to the top of the mountain. He pointed out old fence lines, pillars and concrete bridges that were so old they had acquired a thick coating of sedimentary dust that could be broken off in big chunks. But he kept going, because whatever else there might be, nothing they had encountered thus far showed any evidence of having harmed either Snowdrop or the pursuing band of foxes. Therefore it was probably safe for the three of them to proceed, but with caution.

Cresting the last rise before arriving at the summit they saw that the trail that the path they had been following ended abruptly at a narrow crack in a sheer cliff that blocked any other passage. A gust of wind coming off the mountain brought the scent of blood and death, much fresher than that that had surrounded the western entrance. The three approached the crack carefully.

Scrub brush grew in the cracks against the cliff where they were sheltered from the worst of the sun and wind. They were big and round and wild animals had made a sort of tunnel on the side against the rock by chewing off all the branches within reach. Darwin led them through it until they were close enough to the gap to look inside. Then he got down on his belly and crawled out a little farther and began scanning the circular clearing with the vertical walls that was revealed. He remained there, silently searching for clues, for several minutes. Then he retreated and joined his companions where they sat behind the bushes.

"There is a strong smell of blood, urine and feces. I can identify fox and canine among them, but no traces of feline bodily fluids. Not from this far away. There is also that mineral smell again, but more pronounced. I see evidence of recent scorching on the ground and the walls. Something burned the group that was chasing Snowdrop. Burned them to death less than two weeks ago. Only one escaped." He pointed to a bloody fox paw print on the rock by the entrance and several drops that had splattered the nearest bush. "Whoever it was turned west and followed the cliffs rather than the trail."

Roark considered the options. "Do you think we should follow the one that got away? Maybe find them and question them?"

"No. We know that Snow drop made it this far at least. But the only way to find out if what the King said about the humans taking her inside is true is to go in there and see for ourselves." The beagle swallowed hard, but continued. "If she died there I'll know. Despite all the rest, I'll be able to tell."

"But it's a death trap." Roark protested. "Like the one around the west entrance, only smaller. We don't dare go in there. There must be another way in. Maybe we should look around some more. Climb the cliffs and look for air holes or windows or something."

Dylan, who had been silently chewing one of the bush's leaves looked up at Roark and spoke. "He has to go in. We have come all this way and this is the best chance he has of finding his Snowdrop, or determining her fate." He turned his head to regard Darwin. "Uncertainty is harder to live with than bad news. If you need to go in there you should. And I'll go with you."

He extended his paw and Darwin clasped it gratefully

Roark sighed. "We'll both go with you." He put his paw on top of the other two. "Maybe they'll think we're wandering idiots and pose no threat to them."

"Better let me go in first them." Dylan said with a grin as he stood up on his spindly legs and brushed the dust of his hump. "You two look too damned serious all the time."

* * * * * * * *

Inside the facility, Ray was taking his turn manning the defence console. Since the incident with the buck the three biologists had decided to take shifts there, something they had not done for several hundred years. All three had agreed that it was merely to override any ammunition-wasting automatic responses, but the unspoken fear was that the arrival of the feline might portend renewed interest from the zoo inhabitants.

Ray himself was particularly pessimistic about the possibility; still, he was startled when the alarm indicated that the sensors had picked up movement at the back door.

He had been tilting the big padded swivel chair that was in the control room back and holding it at the point of balance when the alarm started buzzing. After picking himself and the chair off the floor he reached over and switched off the alarm. Then he called up the alarm code on the monitor to see what kind of activity it had picked up.

Only one of the cameras was working back there anymore, but it was not the southerners that had disabled the rest, just time and a lack of maintenance. The last working one only showed the area of the clearing right in front of the door, where Snowdrop had sat when she was contemplating suicide. Some of the non-visual sensors were still operating outside the clearing, however, like the vibration detectors and the thermal sensors. His hands flashed over the keyboard as he fed the data from them into a program that would interpret it and produce an analytical report that he could understand.

He frowned at the results. Three creatures walking upright. Two fairly heavy, heavier than the foxes that had chased Snowdrop but not as hefty as the average lion, tiger, or panda. One was tall and the other short. Maybe it's a leopard guiding a wart hog, he wondered. Have they finally found our back door? They were moving around the entrance to the clearing like they were checking it out.

But the third creature puzzled him. It was smaller and lighter, too small for any of the southern species, unless it was a child. Tough luck if it is, he thought as he reached for the switch that would flood the clearing with poison gas. _Just a little closer ... closer ... closer ... and _ ...

"What's up Ray?"

Ray dropped his hand from the switch and looked around. George was behind him and Snowdrop was with him. "We have more visitors at the back door. Three of them. What is she doing here?"

"Now that she has regained her health I thought that it would be good for her to get up and walk around, so I'm giving her a tour of the facility."

Ray looked shocked. "What? All of it?"

George gave Snowdrop an embarrassed grin before answering Ray. "No, not all of it." He said from behind his hand, thinking that snowdrop could not hear. She could, however, and she wrinkled her nose in puzzlement. _What would they have to hide, after all these years? _ She wondered. "So, what species is darkening our door today?" He said loudly, to change the subject.

"I'm not sure." Ray turned back to the console and studied the data again. He pointed to the thermal image, which only provided indistinct outlines of the subjects. "This short, stout one could be a wart hog. The tall one is a leopard, maybe. But it doesn't move like any feline I've seen. The small one? Who knows. An apprentice of one of the others, perhaps."

"Or a child." George observed. "Were you going to gas them?"

"Yeesss." Ray admitted reluctantly, stealing a glance at Snowdrop. He had wanted to gas the clearing when Snowdrop had showed up with the foxes too, but Tom and George had out-voted him and opted to rescue the lass by using the army's protective gear and a couple of flame throwers that still worked.

"Grass them?" She asked.

"Gas." George repeated, absentmindedly. "A poison mist. It kills almost instantly by making the moist tissues of the throat and lungs expand until the subject asphyxiates."

"They choke to death?" Her expression was one of horror. "But ... what did they do to you.

"Well, nothing." George admitted, embarrassed now that he thought of it.

"Yet." Ray emphasized. "We can't have them wandering around inside the perimeter freely. They might find a way in that we haven't covered. They have sworn to kill us, you know."

"But ... still." She said. "Two unidentified creatures and what could be a child. Maybe they are a lost family. Maybe they are just looking for shelter. Can you not wait until you know for sure that they mean you harm?"

"I suppose that I could turn on the intercom and listen in on them for a while first." Ray said reluctantly. He flipped a switch on the left side of the console and motioned for them to keep quiet.

"You smell anything new?" A loud voice came out the speakers above the console. A muffled voice answered "No". Ray cupped a hand over a black object on the end of a flexible stand and whispered over his shoulder. "One of them is standing right beside the microphone that's hidden in the rock wall. The other must be some way away."

"Do you see a door?" A third voice, closer to the microphone than the second but not as close as the first asked. Again he was answered with an indistinct "No".

"Not very talkative that chap." George observed.

The first voice came back, slightly lower. The speaker must have moved away from the microphone. "What about windows or air holes? They have to get air in there somehow. Dead Eye said that the campgrounds have lots of vents where you can't see them, hidden away so invaders won't climb down them."

"No. Nothing."

"Dead Eye!" Snowdrop gasped. "That's a fox's name. I heard Patch and his mother talking about him. They must be more foxes, come from Patch's caravan to find me!"

"Funny looking foxes." Ray said as he squinted at the monitor which was showing a view of the clearing as seen from above the hidden door. Unfortunately the lens had distorted over the years and only the area immediately in front of the door was in focus. The fuzzy outlines moving about inside the clearing looked nothing like Vulpes vulpes to him, but who was he to argue? He reached for the switch that released the poison gas. They were well within the killing zone now.

"Say goodbye, mister fox." He raised one finger to flip the switch.

Snowdrop was mortified, but the thought of being recaptured by Patch kept her from objecting. She wanted to turn away from the monitor but she couldn't. Now that she had condoned the murder of the three intruders she was compelled to watch. It seemed to take forever for Ray's finger to cross the short gap to the switch. In the few moments that it did take, one of the creatures outside stepped into the area where the picture was clear and distinct.

It was a canine, she realized. A small brown and white canine with a long thick snout and long floppy ears. It took her a moment to recognise the face, it had changed so much since she had last seen it on that spring day so long ago. But in that moment Ray's finger touched the deadly switch.

"No!" She screamed, just as Ray's finger came down.