by Jane H Wood
‘Oh, I see,’ uttered Edmund softly.
He felt an uneasy feeling of tension fill the room. He swallowed nervously while he surveyed the rows of shelves attached on the wall opposite him. Each shelf was crammed full with something. He wasn’t sure what each item was, but he guessed they must be something to do with their forestry work. A glass-fronted cabinet caught his attention where inside stood a row of rifles, each resting securely in their own little recess. But before he could take a proper look Max whisked him into the corridor to resume their tour.
***
Josh had stayed in his Land Rover all night. He wanted to be in position if the wolves should raid the farms at daybreak. The sun was barely up when he spotted them, brazenly in the open and heading towards a group of properties on the outskirts of Bitterbougher Creek. He jumped out of his Land Rover and fired several shots over their heads in an attempt to turn them away. Their response was immediate, vanishing among the snow-covered bushes.
He nodded, satisfied they were at last heading away from populated areas and farmlands, but decided to follow them to ensure they didn’t double back.
Borrin had been slinking through the trees, deliberately keeping a good distance behind Joel and Mira, following their every move yet trying to remain undetected. Unfortunately, he was spotted by the man, and gunshots whistled past his ears. Shocked and frightened he ran for the shelter of the forest, panting heavily, not knowing which way to turn.
The afternoon was slipping by and the light was starting to fade. Although the falling snow had eased, the wind hadn’t abated all day, the icy air stinging Josh’s face like a thousand pinpricks. He pulled his fur-trimmed hood closer around his face, fastened the top button on his coat tightly under his chin, adjusted his goggles and set off again. He was wary, on the lookout for snowdrifts, and gripped his hiking stick firmly in his gloved hand, his rifle secured on his shoulder. He was experienced enough to know that the smooth appearance of the landscape could be deceptive and no guarantee that firm ground was underfoot.
He had been walking for hours and felt close to exhaustion but he was determined to keep going, and he fired his rifle periodically, hoping the sound would frighten the wolves enough to keep them heading north. Resolutely he followed their paw prints, although they were barely recognisable as the wind conspired against him, dispersing their slight indentations in the snow.
Josh came to a clearing and stopped, retrieved his walkie-talkie from his pocket and proceeded to contact his chief ranger. The signal was intermittent, and the small speaker whistled annoyingly in his ear.
‘Max, are you there!’ he yelled, and waited as the wind whipped across his face.
‘Josh, are you all right?’ came a harassed voice.
‘I’m okay, Max,’ the young ranger replied. ‘The weather is closing in. Thick snow here on the western edge of the reserve. I spotted the wolves and I think they are heading away to the north, but it’s hard to tell to be honest,’ he gasped, as cold air hit the back of his throat.
‘Okay, Josh! How many wolves? Did you manage to see them clearly?’ asked Max, straining to hear him.
The signal crackled and whistled, then Josh spoke, his voice faint and distant.
‘I saw two adults with two smaller ones, but…’
The signal was breaking up, his voice drifting in and out… Max catching the odd garbled word that didn’t make sense. A buzz of static replaced Josh’s voice and the transmission ended abruptly.
Max chewed his lip anxiously and glanced at Edmund. They had ended their tour of the building in his office, and Edmund was in the middle of listening to Max’s explanation about the running of the place when Josh had radioed in.
‘What do you make of that? Why would wild wolves deliberately venture into an area where humans live?’ asked Max. He shook his head, baffled.
‘I’ve no idea,’ replied Edmund slowly, then added, ‘Um, excuse me, Max.’
Without another word he left the office, sped upstairs, put on his coat, hat, scarf and gloves and ran back downstairs and out through the rear doorway, heading towards the wolves’ enclosure.
It was almost dark as he unlatched the gate. He paused, calling his wolf’s name, then heard a soft whimpering coming from the far end. He made his way carefully over the slippery snow and caught a glimpse of the two young wolves standing on their hind legs, forepaws resting on the top horizontal slat, while muzzles frantically scented the air, although their attention remained firmly fixed into the depths of the featureless forest.
‘What is it, boy?’ he asked, arriving beside them and squinting his eyes trying to penetrate the darkness ahead.
Kegg afforded him a brief glance and simultaneously gave a high-pitched yelp of excitement, then turned and stared into the forest again.
Edmund followed his gaze as a pair of pale opaque eyes emerged out of the darkness, seeming to hover in mid-air, void of any kind of body. Then another pair of eyes began to drift towards him… until all at once their bodies took form and he could see clearly that two adult wolves were advancing effortlessly over the snow.
Edmund swallowed, feeling a tight sensation building in his chest because he recognised the wolves. Somehow he’d half expected their arrival. He backed up a pace as the pair drew closer to the fence.
Then, to Edmund’s horror, GoldenEars began to whimper, softly at first, then growing more insistent as his parents advanced. With a quick sideways thrust of his body the young wolf landed his forelegs on the ground and turned to join his brother’s frantic pacing back and forth along the fence, both stopping every now and then to poke their muzzles through the lower slats to scent the air.
‘Shh now, boy. Settle down!’ pleaded Edmund, wishing the family would go away.
But instead Mira walked right up to the fence and nuzzled Kegg’s cheek affectionately. She licked him and whimpered, happy to have found her sons at last. He tried to lick her back, but Tuke was trying to jostle him out of the way.
It was clear that GoldenEars and his brother wanted to go to them. Edmund could almost feel their desperation, their yearning desire to be reunited with their family.
With reluctance, he followed behind the two young wolves as they led him towards the gate. On the other side of the fence, matching stride for stride, were the adult pair, their eyes darting expectantly at their newly found youngsters.
Edmund stopped. He couldn’t go any further as the sickening reality struck him… He must set GoldenEars and his brother free.
Kegg returned to his side and nudged his arm. All Edmund could do was kneel down and put his arms around his friend’s neck and bury his face in his fur. The words seemed to stick in his throat, but he forced them out.
‘I’m going… to, to let you go now. Don’t forget me, my GoldenEars… I, I love you!’ he stammered, his voice thick with emotion. Forcing himself to stand up, he strode the few remaining steps to the gate, his hand hesitating on the latch.
‘Come, GoldenEars, you’re free now!’ he said, lifting the latch and pulling the gate wide open.
In an instant the young wolves bounded through to join their family. A happy exchange took place, but not the usual reunion of touching and licking, for Joel was in a hurry, frantic to get everyone away from the smell of humans and their dwellings.
The commotion hadn’t escaped Max’s attention, but in his haste to dash outside he had neglected to switch on the external lights and was left peering into the darkness. He stood on the step, baffled by the shadowy movements, concentrating his gaze on the darkened trees. Then a flash of paws and tails glinted in the moonlight, confirming that wolves had been here.
Were these the ones that Josh had spoken about? he wondered, turning to go back inside the building.
20
Edmund felt paralysed as he watched them go, though amazed that he’d found the strength to release his beloved GoldenEars.
A moment later he was alone, when a slight movement made him stare into the darkness again, searching, hoping that maybe his friend had decided to return to him.
Suddenly a shape stood clear of the trees. It appeared to be another wolf, because at that moment a pale streak of moonlight touched his dark face, reflecting in his eyes like glass marbles suspended in a void of blackness. The wolf hesitated, then like a ghostly figure was gone… before Edmund fully realised what he was looking at.
He wondered if he’d imagined it, because it had happened so fast. But there was something familiar about the wolf; the brief glimpse was enough to remind him of the strange encounter at the river, then again at the pups’ hiding place all those months ago.
A warning shiver prickled the back of his neck uncomfortably as he came to the only conclusion possible: that this lone wolf was following the little family. He didn’t know why, but everything about its body language told him it was up to no good.
His impulsiveness overruled his common sense and, unthinking, he charged straight into the forest, determined to warn his wolves.
He stumbled on blindly through the growing gloom of descending night, the snow, deep and soft, making it difficult to keep moving forward at any real speed. Puffing with the exertion he urged his tired legs to move faster, unaware that the wolves had covered a lot of ground and were far away.
Clumsily, he tripped over a fallen branch; it was so dark now he hadn’t seen it. How far he’d run, he couldn’t guess, and was at a loss as to which way to turn. Feeling an absolute idiot for running off into the forest, he sat there trying to figure out what to do. Then silently the snow began to fall again, light feathery flakes falling faster with each passing second.
The air was freezing and the night temperature plummeted. His head suddenly ached and his throat felt dry and sore. He’d been breathing through his mouth, deep rasping breaths. He licked his cold lips and swallowed with difficulty, pulling his hat further over his forehead, making sure that his ears were completely covered.
Struggling to his feet he stood still, trying to get his bearings. Tilting his head, he gazed at the sky, searching for any clues as to which way he should proceed. The night sky was void of stars, for the swathe of clouds had blocked them out. Not that it would have helped if he’d seen any, because he wasn’t sure what the position of the constellations signified, so navigating by the stars was ruled out.
It was clear in Edmund’s mind that his friend was miles away by now. He should worry about himself; he was the one in danger. The thought of that lone wolf scared him, being here all alone with no means of defence. He silently berated himself for his inane behaviour.
In desperation he looked behind him, peering into the gloom as the wind picked up, blowing the snow on to his cold face. The elements appeared to be conspiring against him as the snowflakes gradually filled the indentations his boots had made only moments before.
He trudged on, his eyes fixed on the fast-disappearing marks on the ground, unaware he was getting more fatigued with each step. As the wind increased, the gentle snowfall turned into a blizzard.
Not far behind, Borrin followed slowly. The boy will soon be mine, he thought, watching every faltering, weary step.
It felt like he’d been walking for hours, but he didn’t really know. Edmund pulled his scarf tightly over his mouth and began banging his gloved hands together. The icy cold was penetrating through his clothes and his boots. In desperation he called as loudly as he could.
‘GoldenEars!’… He listened… Silence. Not even the falling snow made a sound. Why was he bothering to call him? It was hopeless; the wolf was long gone. He was with his family now, and that, it seemed, was all that mattered to him.
A vision of his parents came to the forefront of his mind, pricking his conscience.
‘Dad!’ he yelled at the top of his voice.
A wind stirred through the trees, sending a scattering of snow to the ground. He spun round, alarmed by the noise, and strained to see through the darkness. But it was impossible to see anything further than a foot or so in front of him, and then only when the moon appeared through the clouds, which at that moment remained elusive behind the overcast skies. But then there it was again, those subtle sounds of snow crunching behind him. Someone was coming to rescue him. Relief flooded over him and he let go of his last remaining strength, allowing the numbness in his legs to overpower him, and he crumpled to his knees in the snow. Then all at once he was falling, tumbling and sliding down a steep bank with an avalanche of snow thundering after him.
***
A door slammed shut as Max charged into the centre and sprinted down the corridor, calling Keith’s name.
A few seconds later he dashed into the task room, his face flushed and agitated.
‘Keith!’ he gasped. ‘I think those wolves were here… by the enclosure!’
‘What?’ replied Keith, standing up. ‘Did you see them?’
‘I’m not sure… but I did see something running into the forest.’ Max spoke quickly, his face taut with concern. He paused briefly while he considered what he’d seen. ‘The thing is… the enclosure gate is wide open, so I think we can assume the two young wolves inside have probably gone… but who would let them out?’ he asked, astonished.
The two men stared at each other, and Keith frowned as a thought occurred to him.
‘I did notice Edmund outside late this afternoon, but I didn’t give it another thought.’
‘Did you see him return to the centre?’
Keith shook his head doubtfully, beginning to get worried.
‘Okay. You search the centre while I check with his parents; maybe he’s upstairs in his room,’ ordered Max, hurrying away.
Keith darted through the downstairs rooms, searching for Edmund, and checked with Clive and Mavis, also Claire, just in case he’d passed her café area. But no one had seen him. Finally, he dashed outside and quickly scanned the enclosure, calling his name, before returning inside.
Upstairs, Max was in the middle of a fraught conversation with Sam and Doreen. Afterwards, a frantic search of the upstairs rooms ensued, concluding that Edmund was missing. Doreen flew into a panic, crying inconsolably into her handkerchief.
‘We’ll find him, Doreen, I promise! I’m going with Max to find our boy!’ Sam said, and grabbed his coat, hurrying to join the others.
The two rangers were busy in their storeroom gathering some essential rescue equipment, when Sam arrived, impatient to get going.
‘Calm down, Mr Rainer, it’s important we take all the supplies and equipment we might need.’
A tent roll, ropes, a pickaxe, blankets, a map and compass, plus three Thermos flasks containing a hot drink prepared by Claire, were hastily added to their backpacks.
‘Right,’ said Max, turning to each solemn face. ‘Fix these snowshoes onto your boots once we get outside. Okay… Now grab your rifles and flashlights and let’s get going.’ He hesitated and turned to Keith.
‘Bring a couple of shovels, you never know. Now let’s get moving!’ he ordered, striding down the corridor.
A blast of cold air hit them in the face as they opened the rear doors. Without a word they hurried towards the wolves’ enclosure, hoping to find any clues as to what had happened.
‘Look at the gate, how it’s been left open without a mark on it,’ exclaimed Keith. ‘Wolves haven’t broken in. So that leaves Edmund. You don’t think he opened it and let them out, do you?’ he asked, perplexed.
‘It does seem strange… If he opened the gate to let them out, then why would he go after them?’ Max shook his head, baffled.
Sam shrugged. ‘I know it doesn’t make any sense, but we must find him!’ he insisted, feeling bewildered by his son’s actions.
‘Hey, look here! Some footprints, animal and human,’ called Keith from a few yards away, his flashlight beam scanning th
e ground.
A few faint indentations were barely visible in the snow. The men followed the trail and entered the forest. Keith glanced at the compass, making a mental note of their direction.
‘Edmund seems to be travelling north,’ he said.
It was pitch-black all around them, with only their flashlights illuminating the immediate area.
‘The tracks are gone now, but I think we should continue in this direction,’ suggested Max. They trudged on through the snow, the wind howling relentlessly in their ears.
Sam was deep in thought. He had to find his son; there was no way he was returning home without him.
***
Edmund had landed at the bottom of a steep bank, the avalanche of snow completely covering his body, with just his hat poking partway out of the snow. He lay there motionless, pinned down by the weight of the snow, the cold penetrating his body, lowering his core temperature.
Minutes went by, and his respiration slowed and his pulse weakened, depriving his brain of vital oxygen, and his eyes began to close. Within seconds Edmund drifted into a fitful sleep, where dreams can be deceptive. He felt warm and comfortable, dreaming of summer sunshine, the river and GoldenEars. Then the cold and wet invaded his thoughts… He was drowning in a sea of white mist, unable to move. Edmund woke up with a jolt, realising where he was. Frantically he pushed at the snow in an attempt to lift the weight off his body, squirming and wriggling as he did so, but it was useless, he was wedged in tight.
He stilled, aware an animal was prowling nearby. Paws crunched in the snow, and the sounds of breathing seemed to be magnified under the snow. Something was sniffing, poking around his head… Slow, determined and methodical, the creature paced.
As though dead, Edmund kept perfectly still, not daring to breathe. He was praying it would go away. Then suddenly wolves were howling, their voices growing closer. The ground trembled slightly as they advanced. He lay there in his dark icy coffin waiting to die, knowing he’d soon be something’s feast. Then, unexpectedly, the footsteps around his head receded.
