They still think I may do them harm, Sonny thought.
He stretched out his arms, feeling the blood rush again to his paws and the warm sand beneath his back. He fell quickly into a sleep of exhaustion, faintly aware of a tingling far away in his leg, before the blackness took him.
It was the bird song that awoke him. The sky above was still black, but already a deep, dark blue lit the horizon, with the faintest touch of orange to the east behind the pines.
He found cooked fish and clear, cool water had been left in bowls on the sand beside him. He had a sense of waking into another dream. He could remember being lifted from the boat. He was a Mountain Lion tied to a staff, and his captors were afraid of him. But now he realised that during his sleep, he’d returned to being a man without consciously putting himself through the change. This was unheard of amongst his people.
He drank the water in deep gulps, refreshing himself. Then he remembered his leg. Looking down in disbelief, he saw the wound had healed and closed. A large bruise ran up to his thigh, multiple colours of blues, blacks, and yellows.
Sonny stood, slowly putting more weight on his leg to check its strength, waiting for any sign of pain. He was amazed to discover he could walk as normal, though a little stiffly.
Taking in his surroundings for the first time, he saw the river bank to the east and noticed that the current flow seemed quite gentle in the wide running waters. The river was getting a touch of blue, a reflection from the sky lightening around him. In the early morning light it looked swimmable.
He walked slowly to the water’s edge, still watching the flow, but stopped where the river gently lapped against the shore. As he stood, trying to raise the courage to enter the water, he caught sight of a fallen tree upriver. It was drifting in the eastern current that would flow between the island and the beach to the east. He was surprised at the size of it; some of the branches stood high out of the water.
That seemed to make his decision for him. Sonny walked quickly to a point where he could swim out and intercept the tree. Holding onto the trunk, he could drift downriver, putting a good distance between himself and the boat landing stage.
By the time the Southerners came to check on him, he could be many leagues to the north. Turning east, he could use the forest as cover for his trek back to his homeland.
He was surprised at how cold the river was around his legs and hips. He ducked under water and struck out on a line to catch the tree floating down stream.
Managing to catch hold of one of the outer branches, he pulled himself in closer to the trunk. Holding it tight to catch his breath, he let the tree take him downstream, watching the island disappear into the early morning gloom.
He decided to stay with the current for some leagues, looking for a suitable place to come ashore, where the river bank would conceal his exit from the river.
He could make out a bend in the river coming up. After passing the apex of the bend, he pushed away from the trunk and managed to break out of the current for the calmer waters of the river closer to shore. Finally, he felt the bottom beneath his feet. The soft sand on the river bend would give away his exit point to anyone looking for him. He decided to swim a little further to where the bank gave way to reeds. His legs now numbed with the cold, he managed to drag himself through to the shallower water, and finally to the grasses, where he allowed himself a moment to catch his breath.
Sonny scrambled to higher ground to get a better look at the terrain in front of him. He could see the forest in the distance. There was still open ground in front that he needed to cover, without being seen by anyone approaching the boat landing area.
Better now than when the sun’s higher, he thought. And better as a mountain lion than as a man.
Concentrating on his inner self, he felt the surge of strength and confidence that came with his change to a lion.
Sonny made a dash across the flat open land to the front line of pines. He dived forward into the soft leaves and fallen branches between the pines, and ducked quickly behind the nearest large trunk to look back over the fields for any sign that he’d been spotted. The area around the Meeting Place looked peacefully quiet and still.
He moved further into the forest. Now was the time to make as much distance as he could between himself and the Southerners, who would soon be rising to start the day. He ran at a steady pace, dodging around the tall pines, but noticed himself being pushed to the east in his attempts to move around the trees. The light became dimmer the further he moved into the forest, even as the sun was getting higher.
I need to strike back west, he thought.
The gloom of the forest felt like a weight coming down on him, as if the air was getting thicker, making it more difficult to walk. Then, in the far distance, he heard a bell being rung.
They’ve discovered I’m gone.
Now was the time to run as fast and as long as he could, to put as much distance between himself and the clan as possible.
The trees became denser as he ran, and always the easier route seemed to be to the right. The air became hotter and more humid. Still he ran, escape now the only thought in his mind. In the descending gloom, his foot caught an exposed root, sending him tumbling forward.
He realised he was deep in the forest, no longer on the edge as he’d wanted, and no longer sure of which way was north.
Sonny had lost all track of time since first swimming the river. He was tired, thirsty, and hopelessly lost, without any point of orientation.
He sat, looking up and watching the canopy for any sign of the sun above the trees to get his bearings. The swaying of the upper branches in the wind became mesmerising, though no breeze could be felt on the forest floor. The only sound was the gentle creaking of the trunks when they swayed in the winds above. Sonny watched the eddies pass through the forest, each moving tree showing the direction where the wind circled above. He felt a heaviness on his eyes. It was becoming so difficult to hold them open.
Sitting and watching, it became impossible to stay awake any longer, and a deep sleep overtook him. No matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t stop himself falling deeper into the comfort of oblivion.
Seven days previous. Night at the Woodman house.
‘We’ll go now,’ whispered the Pride leader.
They all nodded, some glad to be moving, some nervous being involved. They crept silently towards the house, their padded paws making no sound on the stone path. They all knew which room they needed to get to. They’d spent long enough watching the house. This time, there would be no mistakes. The window was still open, as they’d hoped, the balmy night making it difficult to sleep. The gentlest of breezes swayed the curtain against the empty window frame.
The Pride leader sat below the window with his back to the wall, watching, checking. In moments, the team saw him change into the man they knew, the one who’d led them time and again on successful missions, always bringing home every member of the High Plains Pride.
He stood, moving the curtain slightly, checking that the bed was occupied as it should be. He nodded to his backup to pass him the bundle they’d prepared that day. He pulled from the sack what looked like a bird’s nest of twisted, compressed roots and herbs. Taking a water flask and holding his breath, he poured a small amount of water into the nest. A white mist rose from the bundle. He nodded in satisfaction.
The Pride leader leaned in through the window, placed the nest on the floor, and gently pushed it toward the bed.
‘Now we wait,’ he whispered, ducking down out of sight.
In his mind, he started a count of the passing seconds until reaching one hundred, and then nodded again to his team to move. He stood, cautiously looking through the window. There was not a sound. Climbing into the bedroom, he stepped lightly on the polished wooden floor and approached the bed. The slow, shallow rise and fall of the blanket showed the boy to be in a deep sleep. The Pride leader pulled back the cover, sliding his hands under the inert body. Cradling him in his arm
s, he carried him to the window.
‘Prepare him for the journey,’ he told the others, passing him through.
The Pride leader returned to the bed, placing pillows and the blanket in the form of a sleeping body, to buy themselves time before the alarm was raised. He stepped back to survey his work,
It’ll pass for a sleeping child in the dark, he thought.
He turned to leave, happy, when out of the corner of his eye, he saw a moving light under the door. Someone in the hall was carrying a candle and approaching the room. He hissed through the window for the others to get down, while he stepped quickly to the side of the door.
We may not make the border if the alarm’s raised now, he thought. If we’re discovered, we fight here to silence them, he decided.
The light under the door became brighter. He watched as the door handle slowly and quietly turned. The door opened silently inward, concealing him, and a hand holding a candle entered the room. He held his breath.
‘Goodnight, son,’ a voice said quietly and tenderly.
The hand withdrew and the door closed again silently. He let out a sigh of relief, feeling his legs shaking. Leaning through the open window, he whispered to his team, ‘People are still up and about. Take extra care, move slowly until you’re away from the house.’
Slowly and cautiously, he thought. Climbing back out through the window, he knelt beside the wall. His team watched as once again he turned himself into a formidable Mountain Lion.
‘We came for the boy, we leave with the boy. The High Plains Pride doesn’t make mistakes,’ he whispered to the men with a smug grin. ‘‘Now let’s move.’
Present time. At the Meeting Place.
Sam was dragged out of a deep, dark place. In his dreams he was running in ever smaller circles, trying to get close to his daughter, who kept slipping out of his reach, deeper into a blackness without walls or floor. The ringing bell became incessant, calling out the alarm. Sam was on his feet, making for the door.
‘What is it, Sam? Have the creatures returned?’ his wife found his staff for him.
‘I don’t know, but we are not losing anymore children,’ he said.
He ran to the bell to find Ben still sounding the alarm.
‘The creature has gone,’ he said quickly.
‘You can stop ringing the bell now,’ said Sam, putting his hand over Ben’s to stop him.
‘Avi is checking the north bank, but we haven’t found where he came out yet.’
‘I think he’s gone for the forest,’ said Casey, arriving from the river bank. ‘It’s what I’d have done if I had a leg I was unsure of. Float with the stream and cut across east.’
‘I’m sure you’re right,’ Sam replied. ‘We’ll check the forest first. I’ll take the inside, you run parallel in the field.’
Sam saw Avi calling them from the river.
‘He came out in the reed banks, treading very lightly. There’s no sign of his passing but there’s a strong smell of Doc’s mosses. It must be him, that moss doesn’t belong there.’
‘He can’t have got far,’ said Grandfather. ‘I’ll track him, I know the forest better than most. You can quickly get disoriented in there if you don’t know what to look for.’
Grandfather explained the signs to them. ‘You see here, he started carefully, unsure of how much noise he could make without drawing attention to himself. Now look here, the leaves are disturbed at greater distances, he’s started to run, now he’s decided to leave caution for flight. He’s not thinking straight, so he’ll be easier to track,’ said Grandfather.
‘He’s only thinking to go north, to run for home,’ said Casey, ‘But without a tunnel he’ll not make it.’
‘Maybe he knows of another one which we’ve not found,’ said Sam.
The three looked thoughtfully at each other.
‘We have lookouts at the border. If there is one, I’m sure they’ll see it,’ said Grandfather.
‘This is a young man without a plan. He wants to get home but hasn’t thought it through. He took no food or water,’ said Sam.
‘By midday he’ll be exhausted. I think we can close on him quickly then,’ said Grandfather. ‘Sam, you go to my left, Casey to my right, call if I miss anything. There’s no need for stealth yet, he’s still well ahead. We’ll tread more carefully as we get closer.’
It was after an hour that they noticed the trail becoming clearer, the footprints and broken branches becoming more obvious.
‘He’s slowing down,’ pointed out Grandfather. ‘The steps are closer together. He’s getting tired. We should move slowly and quietly now, he may be close.’
They continued on, stepping lightly over the forest floor. Sam made a quick movement with his arm, to draw the others attention and made a light sniffing noise. ‘Moss.’ he said.
To their left they saw legs stretched out from behind a tree, unmoving.
‘He’s collapsed,’ said Grandfather, ‘I hear him breathing and I can smell his breath. Call the others.’
Sonny’s mind was spinning in a fog, an ache in his head wouldn’t let him come back to reality and wake up.
Was this the island, with the soft warm sand beneath him? he thought. Maybe it’s the valley, I’m waiting for the Pride to step back through the gateway, to help me home.
He became aware of himself sitting against something hard, and then his thirst hit him like a physical blow. He couldn’t swallow, couldn’t free his tongue. He forced himself into consciousness, his mind telling him, Wait, just a little longer, it will all be okay if you sleep a little more.
Far away on the edge of his awareness, he could hear a voice. But as he pulled himself out of his sleep, he realised it was not so far, it was really very close.
‘Should we shake him?’ it was saying.
‘We don’t know what he’s like waking up. If he’s anything like you, he’ll be right grumpy,’ said someone to his right.
He slowly rolled his head toward the voice. He forced his eyes open, seeing but not yet registering what he saw. His surroundings slowly came back into something he could understand. The gloom of the forest was deeper; he guessed it was much later than he expected. He saw the one who had carried him to the Meeting Place, the one they called Casey, squatting down staring at him, studying him.
He turned his head and saw a face much older than the others, with grey hair grown long and held in a tail at the back. This one was resting against a tree. He became aware of others standing around him, all looking down and all quite relaxed.
His eye caught the one they called Sam. The one who’d tied him and brought him to this place. Sonny’s anger started to boil inside. The one who’d beaten him when he was lying injured with a broken leg.
But now, thanks to their own potion, his leg was mended. This time I’ll be strong, I’ll crush this Sam and show them all the power that I possess. He was a Mountain Lion of the Border Pride. One that his father would hear stories told of, and he’d walk with his head held high, knowing that his son had returned, had beaten the Southerners alone.
I am a Mountain Lion! he told himself.
While Sonny was telling himself these things, imperceptibly, he was tightening his muscles, getting ready to strike out. To lunge at Sam, and show him he couldn’t be beaten, not now that he’d recovered. He could see in his mind: his leap, his thrust with his powerful leg, his arms extended and claws free, to strike him out of the way. His full weight and power pushing Sam to the floor. Then to spin around to confront the next one who approached. A powerful swipe with his front paw to inflict pain and injury on anyone near.
Sonny was seeing these moves in his mind, and very slowly tensing, keeping his eyes on Sam, checking for any sign of him being aware he was about to strike. Then something moved in Sam’s eye, he looked away for a moment.
Was he distracted? Was he nervous? NOW! Now’s the time to strike.
With a great surge of energy he leapt, anticipating his claws on Sam chest, Sam falling to the
ground beneath him. But he was gone. Sonny was diving through the air, reaching into empty space. Sam had moved to his left with a speed Sonny could not believe. Unable to stop himself, he flew straight towards the tree Sam had been leaning against. Just before he collided, he felt a numbing CRACK over his head.
He let out a roar of anger, the pain shooting through his skull before he hit the tree head first, and landing in a heap on the floor. He sprang to his feet and whirled, ready to confront Sam again. This time he charged, swiping his arm with extended claws at Sam’s legs. But he watched, amazed, as Sam jumped lazily into the air, easily letting his attack sail harmlessly by where he’d been standing moments before.
Once again, Sam brought his staff down on Sonny’s striking arm, hitting just behind the extended claws and leaving his hand numb with pain. He let out another roar, this time in rage and indignation.
How could this man, who hides behind locked doors at night, beat him with only a stick? He tried to hold himself erect, but had trouble putting weight on his front paw where Sam had just struck him.
He looked around the circle of men. The old one was still sitting with his back to a tree, watching, almost bored, as he’d attacked. The one called Casey was squatting in the same place, idly flicking leaves with his staff he held loosely in his hands. The other two stood calmly to the side watching the events.
Sonny realised that Sam was capable of moving a lot faster than he first thought. It was Sam that he felt he needed to beat, to show them all and himself that he was a Mountain Lion, he was powerful and strong. But since the blow to the head he was a little slow to understand the situation.
He made a plan: charge at the one on the left, who was standing with his staff casually held across his chest, and at the last moment lean right and leap at Sam.
He charged at the one they called Avi, who didn’t bother to move, but stood as casually as before. At the last moment, he turned right, aiming for Sam, who stepped back, leaving him to fall into empty space. Once more he felt a numbing, stinging pain when Sam’s staff came down on his rear leg. Sonny roared, again swiping with his claws at Sam’s feet, but his attack swung harmlessly by, only to receive another stinging blow to his hand and outstretched claws from Sam’s staff.
Shifters Alliance Page 4
