Lorenzo was asleep on one of the padded benches that folded out to a bed. Simon had spent the past few hours staring out the window and occasionally pretending to read. And Monty, halfway through the thriller by Alan Wolfgard, wondered how many humans had read terra indigene books. If nothing else, the story, with its devious, murderous human villains, provided insight into how the Others perceived people. After meeting the humans who worked in the Courtyard, would a different kind of human appear in some of Alan’s stories? How many times would a human female beat off an attacker with a broom or a teakettle?
At a station about an hour away from the Midwest border, a man entered the executive car. Three-piece suit and briefcase. A little portly and very well groomed. He jerked to a stop when he saw Monty and Simon.
“I think you’re in the wrong part of the train,” the man said. The pompous tone produced a growl from Simon. Instead of backing down, the sound seemed to goad the man into adding, “This is a private car.”
“Yes, sir, we’re aware of that,” Monty said courteously. “And we are in the correct car.”
“Are you? Are you indeed! Let’s see your tickets.”
Monty stood, stepped into the aisle, took out his ID holder, and opened it. And watched the man pale. “Now, sir. I’d like to see your ticket.”
“Mine?” the man blustered. “Why should I show you mine?”
“Because I’m a police officer, and I asked. Or I can request that the train be held while I make inquiries at the ticket station and confirm that you are, in fact, entitled to use this car.”
“You can’t do that!”
“If he can’t, I can,” Simon growled.
Monty didn’t have to look at the Wolf to know Simon no longer passed for human. He could see the fear in the man’s eyes.
The man pulled out a ticket, waved it in front of Monty, and put it away before anyone could take a good look at it.
Monty didn’t insist on seeing the ticket again, and he didn’t ask the man to provide a name and home address. He didn’t think either of those things would be important today.
He put away his ID and sat down, allowing the man to put his luggage on the rack and take a seat.
Simon didn’t like the human who had invaded the private car. Didn’t like the look of him, the feel of him, the smell of him. He couldn’t put a paw on why letting this human live offended him so much, but if such a man got near any member of Lakeside’s human pack, and especially Meg, he wouldn’t hesitate to rip into him and tear out the liver before the heart took its last beat.
<Caw! Message for the Lakeside Wolfgard.>
He looked out the window, but he didn’t see the Crow. <I’m the Wolfgard.>
<Train will stop soon. Wolves will meet you and your humans, drive you the rest of the way.>
<Is the track broken?> he asked.
<Not if the train stops and goes home. Air is riding Tornado and will be watching.>
Wouldn’t just be this train or this station. The terra indigene would have closed off all escape from the Midwest until the enemy had been hunted down and destroyed. And in their own way, the Others were protecting the humans who might otherwise be caught up in the killing.
The conductor came into the car a few minutes later. “Last stop, gentlemen. Please prepare to depart.”
“Last stop?” the businessman said, leaning into the aisle. “What do you mean last stop? I have a ticket for—” He stopped, as if reluctant to have a policeman and a Wolf overhear his destination.
“Uncertain weather conditions have made it inadvisable to continue,” the conductor said. “You or your company will be credited for the part of the ticket not used.”
“So this is the railway’s decision?” The man sounded angry. “What happens if the train continues on to its original destination?”
“The vultures will feast for days,” Simon said.
The conductor moved with control as he retreated from the car. The businessman stank of fear.
Moving carefully to avoid exciting a predator was a sensible response from the conductor. The fear of being turned into carrion was an understandable, and pleasing, reaction from the businessman.
The train pulled into the station. Simon looked at Monty and shook his head. When Monty resumed his seat, he said, <Crows?>
<Here.>
<There is a human who will leave the car I’m in.>
<There are many humans leaving.>
<But there will be only one from this car. Watch him.>
<We cannot follow him far. We will ask other terra indigene for help.>
<Good. And tell your leaders about him. Let all the Crows know this human should not be trusted.>
<We will tell them.>
Satisfied with that, Simon pulled his carryall off the rack as soon as the businessman left the car.
“Unless I totally misread the map, we still have a ways to go,” Monty said. “Hours of travel, in fact.”
“Yes,” Simon replied. “But this is as far as the train will go. Come on. We’re being met.”
As soon as they stepped off the train, they heard the cawing. The Crows weren’t making any effort to hide their interest in the businessman, which was drawing the attention of other humans. Flustered, the man hurried into the station, where the Crows couldn’t follow. But at the doorway, dust and debris suddenly swirled and resettled.
Simon, Monty, and Lorenzo joined the passengers flowing into the station, but Simon immediately led the two men out the other set of doors to the parking lot. The minivan wasn’t any different from other vehicles, but the two males standing beside it looked too dangerous to be human, despite a clear effort to hold that shape.
He nodded to the Wolves.
<We don’t need to know your humans,> they said.
He thought Montgomery and Lorenzo would have liked knowing the names of their new companions, but the Wolves didn’t want to be that sociable, so he said nothing.
“Looks like the businessman evaded the Crows,” Lorenzo said, stalling a moment before getting into the minivan.
Simon wasn’t sure if he heard concern or relief in the doctor’s voice. Humans understood so little. “It doesn’t matter now if he evades the Crows,” he told Lorenzo. “Until he stops breathing, he can’t hide from Air.”