Peder nodded, eyes weary. “Thorsen came up here and told me himself. Do you still think the wolves can protect us?”
For just a second, Rook noticed tension in Fossen’s forehead and neck, but when he answered, his voice sounded calm. “No, Peder, I think something has changed. Perhaps the presence of our friend Stanislav here has disrupted things.”
Rook clenched one fist at his side and didn’t bother masking his irritation. “So it’s my fault?”
Fossen said, “Of course not. I merely meant that you are what has changed. We are fortunate to have you here to help us.”
“You don’t have anyone else in town that could do this?”
“I could do it myself. But let’s be honest. You are a soldier, this is the kind of thing you are training for. Among us, we have plenty of military experience but no one in this town has been on active duty in the past decade. And while hunting has played a key role in our culture for centuries, big game is not something we get the opportunity to confront very often.”
Rook couldn’t argue with his logic. “Works for me. Are you ready to head back and kick this off?”
Fossen handed Rook one more item, a headpiece with a powerful lamp in the middle. “This should also help keep your hands free.
“Thanks.”
Fossen stood up. “Of course. And now I’ll return. Peder, between Stanislav and myself, we will deal with whatever this is. You have my word.”
Peder’s weariness didn’t lift when he looked at Fossen. “Eirek, I hope you are right.”
When Fossen left, Rook asked Peder, “How’s Thorsen taking it?”
Peder snorted. “How would you take the loss of your wife of fifty-two years? He is angry and sad at the same time. He is wondering…” Peder stopped.
“Wondering what?”
Peder shrugged. “It’s not important. You need to get ready.”
Rook stood, holding the AR-15 as he did. “Yes I do. I have to test out this weapon. Do you have any trees you don’t mind getting reduced to sawdust?”
“Pick any tree you want.”
“Peder, don’t worry. I’ve come up against far worse than this. Fossen might be out of his depth, but I’ll take care of your problem.”
Peder’s nod seemed an afterthought. “Stanislav, Fossen is not nearly as incapable as he makes it seem. There is some threat from this creature beyond the obvious, that’s the only explanation for his actions.”
“I was thinking the same thing. What could that be, though? An eight foot hominid tearing people and animals apart is bad enough.”
“When you discover the answer, Stanislav, you might finally be able to kill it. If it does not kill you first.”
8
Things started to go to hell at two in the morning. In horror movies, midnight is the most dangerous time, but in Rook’s experience, you could always count on the worst stuff to go down a couple hours later. Right when most people’s energy is at its low point.
It took until midnight for Rook and Fossen to settle into a rhythm. Via the walkie-talkie, Fossen directed Rook through a flurry of turns, and Rook had to focus to keep a picture in his mind of his current location relative to the town and Peder’s farm. The wolves did not move fast, stopping every few minutes, and Fossen kept Rook a quarter mile away from them and downwind.
Right at two, as Rook stood waiting for Fossen to tell him the wolves had begun moving again, he sensed something changing. As much of a man of direct action as Rook had always been, he knew from experience to trust his instincts in battle. He bent his knees slightly, getting himself that much more ready for whatever might be coming.
Fossen’s voice came through the ear piece, excitement clear even through the static. “Stanislav, they are running now, at twenty-five miles an hour.”
“It’s about time. What direction?”
“They are running directly toward you.”
Rook considered his next move. Was the creature chasing the wolves? How far behind them was it?
He readied the AR-15, and listened. Soon, he could hear a faint rustling sound beyond the background noise of the wind. The sound grew clearer, and while it was not loud, he recognized it as the sound of the wolves running. A moment later, the strong beam of the headlamp picked up first the large black wolf and then the others.
They continued to run straight at him. Rook looked behind them, trying to see if the creature followed. He saw nothing there, but his peripheral vision picked up the wolves stopping about fifty feet away. He returned his attention to the large black wolf, the pack leader.
The wolf sniffed the air, then growled while glaring at Rook. Rook grinned at him. I see you remember me. Smart wolf. Move along now and let the big boys play.
The pack leader let out a howl, not as loud as the one on that first night, but loud enough to drown out all other sound. Then he charged toward Rook, with the other wolves following.