Blood Retribution

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Blood Retribution Page 14

by Aimée Thurlo


  The fence was taller closer to the communities to the east, Lee knew, but here it was only around four feet high. The wolves cleared it easily, one at a time. Now in Mexico, the animals ran back toward the arroyo.

  Lee waited, noticing that one wolf had remained behind just on the Mexican side, watching the arroyo and the road. It looked like the one that was Angela, and he wondered if she was looking to see if somehow he’d managed to follow them. She must know that he or someone working with him has been watching Frank’s Automotive.

  For a moment, Lee thought she had seen him in his hiding place. She looked in his direction for perhaps thirty seconds, sniffing the air. Finally another wolf came up to her and snarled. She turned and ran down the arroyo to catch up with the rest of the pack, while the other, larger wolf nipped at her heels to speed her up. Lee followed, hurdling the fence without breaking stride.

  Almost two hours later, a quarter mile from a metal-roofed building among a cluster of low hills, the wolves walked into a dense thicket of fifteen-foot-high mesquite. The plants branched at the trunks and had already begun to leaf out for the season, making visibility in and out of the grove nearly impossible.

  It would be getting light soon, so Lee stopped, still east and downwind of the wolves, and applied sunscreen to his head, face, and hands. He drank half of a small bottle of water, ate two granola bars, and waited for people to emerge from the thicket. They were now far enough from the border to change back to human form.

  Hopefully, the building with the corrugated metal roof was where they met their contact. A well-used five-or six-year-old pickup was parked by the building. Near the house were an outhouse, an old farm tractor and cultivator slowly rusting to oblivion, and a water pump and tank. A thin wisp of smoke coming from a stovepipe suggested that someone was awake inside the house.

  The Navajo gang must have been resting up from their lengthy journey, because they didn’t come out of the thicket for an hour or so, until the sun started to come up. Lee had moved by then, finding a shaded hiding place in another, smaller mesquite grove farther uphill. He was within a few hundred yards of the house, the only visible structure around, and he had the camera out. Now that they were in human form again he could take a few incriminating photos.

  Stump came out of the thicket first, wearing a thin desert-camouflage jumpsuit and tan shoes. He had one of the backpacks slung over his shoulder. The big Navajo looked around carefully, then turned and said something. Angela came out in similar garb, her long hair tucked inside a cap, followed by the three delivery men—including Long-hair—and Raymus, who was carrying a gray pack, different from the others, which were greenish black. Their clothing was so well matched with the terrain that they could have probably remained hidden from view even in broad daylight.

  Lee knew it was all just for show. The Mexican suppliers had no idea they were dealing with skinwalkers who didn’t need camouflage clothing to avoid being seen and stopped by the border patrol.

  He watched through the camera’s zoom lens as Stump walked up to the door of the building, knocked twice, then whistled loudly. The door opened quickly and an old man in a baseball cap stepped out, smiling, and patted him on the shoulder. They talked animatedly for a minute or so—a good thing, because their conversation would cover the faint click of the camera and Lee had been worried that the skinwalker’s sharp hearing would pick up the sound.

  Then Stump waved for the rest of the Navajos to come up to the building and they all went inside.

  Lee waited, and within five minutes a tall Mexican man in a broad-rimmed hat appeared at the rear of the building carrying a shotgun. He walked over to a shady spot against the building and stood watch. Lee had expected a guard to surface and had stayed behind cover.

  Within an hour the old man came outside with another young Mexican man wearing a brown leather jacket. The outside guard handed his shotgun to the old man, then joined his younger companion in the pickup. As they drove off, the old man went back inside. Lee put the camera back into his pocket. Hopefully they were going to pick up the turquoise and silver, not groceries.

  It had been a long, hot day hiding in whatever shade he could find. Once it was finally dark, the pack left the house, following the same route to the mesquite thicket where they’d changed before. After shape-shifting, they hurried to the border and crossed the fence over to the U.S. side. But there they suddenly became unpredictable, stopping and reversing direction, sniffing the ground, and obviously looking for footprints. He had tried to avoid leaving a trail, but knew his scent had remained and might still be detectable.

  With the sky clear of clouds and a full moon out, Lee knew he had to keep his distance and stay downwind. He moved slowly in stops and starts to avoid running into the animals by accident, especially with less cover for his extra height.

  Right now he was crouched low behind a creosote bush, watching carefully for signs of movement after having lost track of them momentarily. He could hear the sound of a vehicle, no doubt the border patrol, off in the distance somewhere, though he hadn’t seen any headlights. The wolves were probably crouched low to the ground just as he was, waiting for the vehicle to leave.

  The engine sounds faded at long last. The unit either had gone into an arroyo, had gone behind a hill or thicket, or was finally far enough away. It was an opportunity to move on.

  Lee walked slowly along the eastern rim of a small wash, looking ahead and down. If the wolves were hiding, this would be a likely spot for them. He’d have to be extra careful if he didn’t want them to detect him first.

  A hundred yards down the shallow ditch he discovered their trail in the sandy bottom, leading away from an evenly spaced row of tall creosote bushes. The pungent scent of these plants was apparent in this area, though now Lee was beginning to wish he’d brought along the Buckscent after all. Several depressions along the sandy sides of the arroyo indicated that large animals had lain there recently, hunkering down to avoid being seen. He breathed a sigh of relief. Now he was back in the hunt.

  Lee stopped to examine the tracks by the depression, and confirmed that the marks were fresh and headed in the right direction. Then suddenly he realized that there were only five depressions, not six.

  Instinct and an almost supernatural reaction time saved his life. Out of the corner of his eye he saw a dark shape looming somewhere to his left. Diving in the direction of the attack, Lee evaded the powerful jaws of the massive animal as it hurled itself over him, grazing him roughly as it ran down his back.

  Lee ducked his head and rolled over onto his feet, spinning around and grabbing his pistol. The wolf, a male with a gray backpack, which meant it was Raymus, turned in his length and snarled, lowering his head and baring his fangs as hair stood up on its back. The pack fit along the contours of his sides, and obviously didn’t restrict his ability to maneuver and attack.

  The animal held back, curious now as it picked up Lee’s unique scent. The snarl turned into an evil grin, and Lee knew it wasn’t going to run, despite seeing his pistol.

  A shape-shifted skinwalker kept his or her human consciousness, so it knew what the gun represented, but this man-monster was counting on Lee’s hesitation to fire. Lee knew that resorting to his gun now would practically guarantee his death. The noise would alert the others, and taking on a pack of wolves out here in the open could be suicidal.

  Lee faked a shaky hand as he kept his pistol aimed at the tensed-up beast. Meanwhile he slipped his other hand down for the commando dagger in his boot sheath. The instant Lee jammed the pistol into his jacket pocket, the wolf came in low and fast.

  Expecting the attack, Lee rose up and kicked the wolf in the side of his head just below the left eye, turning to his left as the animal brushed by him, like a bullfighter evading the horn.

  The animal yelped, spinning around behind Lee to catch him before he could turn. Lee jumped straight up, but the wolf caught his boot in his jaws just enough to send him off balance, and Lee fell onto his side. Le
e barely got to his knees before the yellow-eyed beast lunged forward again, teeth bared, angling for his throat.

  Lee fell back, bringing his dagger up as the animal landed on his chest. The dagger sank in deep, and Lee yanked the blade forward. Raymus yelped again, kicking hard to pull away, and Lee let go of the handle as the wolf fell off of him. The creature rolled over onto his back. Lee rose to a crouch, took out his pistol, and waited.

  The wolf’s eyes were still open, but the creature wasn’t moving anymore. Blood flowed rapidly from the beast’s chest for a moment, then stopped. Unless he could shape-shift now, the creature would die. Raymus’s eyes glazed over, something impossible to fake.

  Lee studied the area around him. The pack was probably still upwind, but if he was wrong about that and they picked up his scent, they’d come after him, particularly after they found Raymus.

  He put his pistol away, pulled his dagger from the dead skinwalker’s chest, then ran quickly south toward Mexico, trying to stay downwind and careful to avoid leaving a prominent trail.

  Thirty seconds later and a quarter mile closer to Mexico, Lee stopped, flattened behind a creosote bush, and waited, checking the action of his Beretta. He heard a low bark, then a mournful, long-drawn howl. They’d found Raymus.

  After that, it was silent again, and all he could hear was the rattle of a few dry leaves stirred up by the breeze. Reaching into his front right trouser pocket, Lee pulled out his backup .45 auto, thumbed off the safety, then placed it into his jacket pocket for easy access. He wouldn’t have the opportunity to reload if they all came at him at once.

  Lee looked toward the border, knowing that he had to decide on a strategy quickly. If they managed to surround him or attack in a group …

  Ten minutes went by, and he wouldn’t have seen them at all in the dark if his eyes had been those of a normal human. They were moving parallel to him, behind a long line of brush less than a hundred yards away.

  Holding his Beretta rock-steady, he aimed toward an opening in the brush in their direction of movement. He couldn’t decide if he should open fire, uncertain whether they knew his exact location or not. Yet, the closer they got, unmolested, the greater the chance one or more would get past his gunfire and tear him to pieces.

  He heard engine noise behind him just then and noticed that the wolves had stopped, frozen in place. Turning his head slightly, he located a border-patrol vehicle, headlights blazing, approaching along a dirt road just north of the border.

  Lee jammed his pistol into his holster, then jumped up and turned, sprinting in the general direction of the vehicle at top speed.

  They had a night scope, just as he’d hoped. In a matter of seconds a spotlight was directed in his direction, and there were shouts. “La Guardia, alto!” He recognized the words “Halt, Border Patrol.” When he ignored them the vehicle picked up speed, trying to cut him off before he reached the fence. The spotlight operator tried to capture him in the beam, but he was moving too fast to track easily.

  Lee knew he had the speed necessary to make the border. Going full tilt, arms and legs pumping like a machine, Lee cleared the border fence just as the spotlight caught up to him. He continued running, slowing to Olympic sprint speed for the next half mile. Spotting an arroyo, he came to a stop and jumped down inside the waist-high channel.

  Breathing hard, Lee looked back toward the border, where the patrol vehicle had now come to a stop. Out of their jurisdiction now, the U.S. officers had given up on him and were looking back in the direction he’d come from, hoping to find others who might have remained in hiding when he broke cover.

  His tactics had worked. The pack would have to leave the area now, or be spotted. Their packs looked too unusual for them to risk detection. Still he waited, pistol ready. They might also decide to circle around the border patrol and come back into Mexico after him.

  Diane had been able to catnap during the daylight hours after she realized that Marie probably wasn’t going anywhere. But it was dark again now and she felt dead tired. Only the adrenaline from the excitement of knowing the wolf pack would be returning before sunrise kept her alert.

  After taking a sip of water—she’d been trying to limit her fluid intake for obvious reasons—Diane picked up the night scope and scanned the house, garage, and yard, then slowly turned in a circle, verifying that no people or animals were within view. It was incredibly boring, but most law enforcement was similar. Hours, days, and sometimes weeks of safe, routine investigation, research, and study, interrupted by seconds and minutes of intense action, stress, and danger. With a nightwalker as her partner it had been one hell of an adventure.

  Hours went by, and Diane took frequent bites from the high-energy junk food they’d picked up on the journey southeast from Albuquerque. Knowing she couldn’t risk going outside and walking around to loosen up, Diane had tried to compensate by stretching her legs and arms alternately, hoping to keep them from cramping up. Though it was June and she was in the southern part of the state, it was cold outside. Despite that, Diane decided to keep the windows down at least halfway so she could listen.

  It was nearly four in the morning, very dark now after the full moon had set, when Diane saw movement along the ditch and a big wolf popped into view. The animal, wearing a bulging backpack, stood there motionless, watching the house, which had been dark since midnight.

  Diane reached down without taking her eyes off the animal and brought up the scope. From the angle Diane could see that it wasn’t a male. “Angela, you’re back. But where are the others?”

  Lowering the night viewing device, Diane checked out the larger viewing field available to her unaided eyes and noted that Marie had just come outside. The woman stood by the front door for a moment, then motioned for the Angela wolf to come forward.

  Angela trotted over quickly, then stood steady as Maria unfastened the backpack and set it down beside the entrance. Angela remained beside Marie like an enormous German shepherd on sit-and-stay, watching the ditch from which she’d emerged a few minutes earlier.

  Diane looked along the ditch line, then toward the other side of the property, then finally glanced around behind her own car and into the fields on either side.

  Turning back, Diane saw another wolf wearing a backpack scramble out of the ditch. It trotted over to Marie without waiting for a signal, then stood while its load was removed and stacked beside the other bag. Marie turned and said something to the Angela wolf, and the animal lay down on the ground.

  Diane watched as Angela’s fur began to disappear and her human body began to emerge from the canine form. Skin and flesh seemed to grow outward, expanding. The morphing took almost five minutes, Diane estimated. Then the nude young woman stood and faced Marie.

  Marie asked the questions, it appeared, and Angela answered quickly. Marie reached out and slapped Angela suddenly, and the younger woman flinched, raising hands to defend herself. But Marie shouted something, and slapped Angela harder. Angela held out her hands in submission, then turned, picked up the two backpacks, and went inside the house.

  The other wolf lay down, as if ready to morph back into human form, but Marie kicked it sharply and it yelped before standing again. “Trouble, huh? I bet Lee had something to do with this,” Diane muttered.

  Within the next hour two more wolves returned, and each time Marie would remove their load, then kick them around, not allowing them to morph back into human form despite their yelping and squirming around, tails lowered. Diane noted that Angela was still inside, but no lights had been turned on.

  Finally the big wolf returned—Stump. Marie ran forward as soon as she saw him climbing over the ditch bank. He was carrying an additional backpack in his teeth.

  Marie grabbed the extra backpack, then kicked Stump in the hindquarters, hustling him toward the other males, still standing there by the house.

  Bending down quickly, Marie took off the backpack, then stood and looked toward the ditch. She remained motionless for perhaps a minute, t
hen turned, looked toward the house, and ran over to the wall, grabbing a rake. Whirling around, Marie started cursing, beating the male wolves across their backs with the handle. The animals yelped and whined, rolling and ducking from the beating, but none of them ran away. Finally Marie screamed, “Angela, get out. here!”

  Angela skulked back outside, fully clothed, keeping her distance from the others, who were whining and showing their undersides in submission now.

  “Take these inside!” Marie yelled, pointing to the backpacks. “And you worthless shits … get inside.” She moved toward the wolves, kicking at them as they fled into the house, tails between their legs.

  “God. It’s like a Walt Disney version of hell.” Diane shook her head slowly as she saw Angela carrying in the backpacks, followed by Marie, who slammed the door behind her. In a few seconds the lights went on inside.

  Diane waited, watching along the ditch bank and around the fields for any sign of Lee. After an eventful half hour, her heart rate was definitely beginning to pick up speed.

  Suddenly her cell phone beeped. “Shit! Scare the water out of me, will you?” Diane groaned, picking up the receiver.

  “Hi, it’s me,” Lee said softly, the sound on the receiver faint. “I’m okay. Have all our animal friends returned yet?”

  “Five so far. But they got their asses kicked by the head bitch. That have something to do with you?”

  “Yeah. The sixth wolf won’t be coming back. I’ll meet you at five-thirty a mile north of your current location, then tell you about it.”

  “What about our friends?” Diane asked, looking back toward the house.

  “They’ll probably be leaving soon, but don’t worry. We know where they live. I’ve got to hang up now and cover the rest of the ground quickly if I’m going to beat the sunrise. I’m running low on sunblock. Call if something comes up.” Lee’s signal went dead.

 

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