Smudge shrugged to Spot, and sat down behind the Rotty-wolf on the cardboard in the shadow under the stairs.
The door at the top of the stairs flung open and Spot moved quickly off the bottom step and hugged the wall around the corner.
Ty stepped onto the top landing and looked down the stairs. He leaned over the railing and yelled down at the wolf-dog, “Fuck you barking at, you freak?”
The big dog turned his vapid, simple face up at him, and went back to cleaning his paws.
Ty took one more look around the garage, and at the wolves pacing in their cages, and went back into the office as he slammed the door behind him.
Spot came back to the stairs and crept silently up to the middle step. He leaned forward and could hear Vic’s gravelly voice but the mine boss mumbled so much it was hard to tell what he was saying.
Smudge looked up at Spot through the grates of the steps and shook her head.
Spot signed, Yeah, yeah, just one sec, and continued up the stairs. He couldn’t make out Vic’s mumbling until he was on the top step.
“…Soucie pas, maybe move the boys over to that second cut while we blast in the new basin,” Vic said. Spot heard him shuffle some papers and then pound a glass down on a desk. “Sacre! I forgot to order the new fucking planetary gear for the Terex,” the boss said, “I tell you that creepy chink bitch has got me all fucked up. She and that fif Brit are a real pain in my ass. After this storm clears I’m telling them to va chier. We’ll deal with this shit ourselves.”
Vic took a long drink and said, “It’s time to clean house, Ty. I’ll give them fucking subtle. It’s time for that bitch constable and that nosey sapper to stop sniffing up my ass as well. Make sure Jero is packing concealed at all times, and I don’t mean in his ass crack. I don’t give a flying fuck about his pachuco bullshit, tell him to wear a holster under a jacket. He may have to get rid of that eggplant bodyguard on the quick.” He took another slug and said, “We’ll see if our wolves like dark meat.”
Spot could hear Vic’s chair squeak under his bulk and his boots scuffing on the floor, and his glass tapping lightly on the desk. Spot was pretty sure Vic’s desk was on the far wall. Ty’s boots twisted on the wet floor and Spot guessed he was on a stool in the middle of the large office somewhere.
He leaned forward a little more and sampled the warm air flowing from under the door. He picked out alcohol, beer, coffee, nasty cologne that was unsuccessfully masking body odor, propane heat, potato chips, and more of that vile smell that was all over the empty cages.
Ty laughed and said, “And on that topic, what do you want to do about this weekend, with the weather coming in?”
Vic took a drink and said, “Those guidoune loggers won’t come out this far in this snow and it looks like we’ll be in this shit until middle of the week anyways. Cancel the fights till next weekend, we got other affairs to tend.”
Spot listened for a while longer but they just rambled on about mine business.
Just as he was thinking about heading back down the steps Vic tossed an empty sounding glass bottle into a metal trash can and said, “Go get my other bottle from the glove box.”
Spot heard Ty’s heavy footsteps crunching on the broken linoleum. He had been wrong about the middle of the room, Ty’s stool had been a whole lot closer to the door. Spot took a quick look at the well-lit bottom of the stairway and he chose to dart forward instead. His claws clicked on the top step of the landing and his rump just cleared the door as Ty opened it.
Smudge watched from under the stair grates as Ty stepped onto the small platform and swatted the office door shut before he trotted down the stairs. He got most of the way down and stopped a few steps from the bottom.
He turned around and looked back up the stairs.
Smudge could see her brother’s lower half hanging down in the dark, off the back of the stair’s upper landing. His rear paws were trying to get a hold of one of the landing’s metal support posts. She could see little rusty flakes drifting down under him.
Smudge quietly moved under the stairs until she was right under Ty. She reached her paws up and steadied herself on the back of the step he was standing on. She split one paw open and held it an inch from Ty’s boots.
Ty stared at the top of the stairs as he tapped a ringed finger on the stair’s metal handrail.
It was impossible for Smudge to tell if Ty would be able to see Spot through the open stairs. There was a flood light above Ty’s head and Spot was mostly in shadow.
Long seconds passed. Finally Ty turned, stomped down the rest of the steps and yanked open the truck’s door. As he pulled his bulk behind the steering wheel and pitched over to rummage in the glove box Smudge ran to catch her falling brother.
She went Cu Sith in mid-leap and wrapped herself around Spot as they collided in the air. They tumbled away into the dark and slammed down on the concrete garage floor with Smudge breaking her brother’s fall. Their paws spread open and scrambled for purchase on the greasy floor. Smudge caught the grate of a floor drain and brought them to a quick stop just before they crashed into a rolling cart full of tools.
The pups spun to their feet and watched Ty react to the noise with a spasm inside the truck. He hit his head on the truck’s dash and flailed, grabbing the rear view mirror and yanking it off the windshield. He scrambled out of the truck holding a bottle of booze and the mirror. Without looking back he tossed the mirror behind him into the truck, and quickly came back with a knife in his hand.
The Rotty-wolf had actually understood the pups’ instructions and turned his huge body away from them to watch Ty getting out of the truck. The dog stared at the big thug holding the knife for a moment, and then sat down loudly on the creaking pallet and started to lick his balls with gusto.
Ty said to Rotty, “You dumb fucking idiot. One of these days dog, one of these Jesus fucking days.” The knife disappeared behind him again as he stomped back up the metal stairs with the bottle.
Be the time Vic was spinning the cap off the bottle the pups were back outside the garage and donning their vests, and having and argument.
I know, sis, Spot said, I promise you we will rescue them, but there’s nothing we can do for them right now. And there’s more we need to do tonight. At least now we know there’s time to figure out the right plan, right?
Smudge nudged her brother and then walked to the edge of the open garage door. The wolves looked back at her for a long moment with their beautiful, tortured faces. She indicated to them she’d be back, and the wolves wagged.
She and Spot tore off again into the snow, but they weren’t heading back towards the ranch.
A half hour later the pups were standing at the back door of another garage. This one was smaller, and when Smudge boosted Spot up to look in the small window he saw a tidy workshop and a white truck with red stripes and orange light bars on top.
This might be the dumbest idea you’ve ever had, Smudge said as Spot jumped down from her back.
As a gust of blowing snow ruffled their white fur Spot said, Shut up and hold the light higher. I hope we never need this, truly I do, but I’m not walking into a gun fight with just sharp teeth again…and I can’t hold a gun.
As Smudge held the penlight so Spot could pick the door’s padlock she rambled nervously, Brother, we’re going on Hamish’s little field trip, getting the Elkies and the boerboels squared away, and we’re coming back and saving my wolves and dealing with Vic and his asshole buddies and anyone else that wants to fuck with us before this storm ends, and then we’re getting the hell out of this bloody cold...”
Just as Spot clicked the lock open they were blinded by bright lights.
Lissa and Harry Chogin were each wearing a fur hat, boots, and a coat over a bathrobe. They each had a huge flashlight, and an ever bigger handgun.
All of which were pointed at the pups.
The couple were standing in the footpath that led from their house to their garage. They were staring, and not belie
ving.
The two medium-sized, white dogs huddled at the back door of their workshop were wearing winter camouflaged service vests. One dog had its front feet up on the garage door and its strange paws looked like two fat fingers. It was holding their padlock which it had apparently just opened with a flattened paperclip. The other dog was holding a small pen light in its mouth and was shining it at the lock.
An awe-struck Harry Chogin nudged his wife and signed.
Lissa said, “No, it can’t be.” She turned to the white dogs and said, “Spot? Smudge?”
The dog with the flashlight lifted her paw, split it in two halves, and signed, We surrender.
Five minutes later Lissa was standing in her kitchen with a towel around her shoulders, holding her phone.
Harry was seated at the kitchen table in his pajamas. He was wrapped in a fleece blanket and holding a steaming cup of coffee with two large shots of brandy in it. His black Sig P226 pistol was in front of him, resting in the center of a maple leaf shaped placemat.
Spot and Smudge were sitting at the table opposite him. They too had towels over their shoulders. Their vests were hanging on hooks by the back door, dripping onto the boot pan below along with the Chogins’ coats and bathrobes.
The pups had changed their fur back to black.
Harry signed to his wife, Put down the phone, and the gun, darling. Let’s finish hearing them out.
Lissa put down the phone and paced the kitchen floor, tapping her nine millimeter against her hip. “Loup-garou,” she said, “Fucking loup-garou, Harry, their fucking loup-garou. They’re real. My mom always said they were.”
Harry signed, I am pretty sure these two are not shape shifting werewolves, Hun. Put the gun down before you shoot your foot off, or worse, mine.
Turning to the pups he signed, Okay, give me that again a little slower, why exactly did you need some of our explosives?
Chapter 51
“Just when I thought it wasn’t possible for this place to get more beautiful,” Valerie said with her arms around Willie. She leaned down and drew him in for a deep kiss, her strawberry lip gloss sliding around his chapped lips as he fondled her bottom. She pulled back and then hugged him to her, and with his face planted firmly in her exposed cleavage said from above his head, “Okay, I can see why you fucking idiots live here.”
The group had just skied out of a stand of thick trees and into a clearing at the top of a ridge. The vista below was breathtaking. It was a postcard view of the river nestled in a white valley between snow covered pine forests sweeping away up to the mountains. The snowy banks sloped down to ice covered boulders with the wide river’s waters cascading around them. What had been almost blizzard conditions earlier had turned to steady flurries with just a little wind. Once they were in the trees it was perfect skiing.
The view was interrupted by an eagle swooping in for breakfast, and leaving with a wiggling trout in its talons.
“Wow,” one of the skiers said to her husband from a little farther along the trail, her camera clicking away. She turned back and over her shoulder said, “Willie, how much did that eagle cost you?”
The group laughed as Willie checked his watch. They were making good time even in the deep powder and they should reach the falls before lunch. He had fully expected Valerie to slow them down but her clumsiness was outweighed by the length of her legs.
This group should have no problem making it to the north lodge by sunset. Willie had split up the supplies for their spaghetti dinner among the backpacks and he planned to get some of the older yuppies to start cooking while he snuck Valerie away for her ‘half mile high club’ initiation. If it was any repeat of last night he would need a few extra servings of pasta to have the strength to keep up with her. As he was the guide he had taken the only separate bedroom in the south pass cabin, but he was sure the whole group could still hear them going at it.
The shutterbug’s husband was lagging behind them on the trail, and chomping on another granola bar. Willie almost gave him shit again for just tossing the wrapper over his shoulder. The ignorant rich bastard had been told ten times already and Willie just didn’t feel like making it eleven, especially as Willie currently had both of his hands busy with wonderful, chest-high ass.
Chapter 52
Glasgow had done all she could to sneak off but the rogues were vigilant, and they never slept. They kept her within a few paces and they ran everywhere they went, which was often just in big circles. They hunted and killed every scent they picked up on. Sometimes they ate the kill and sometimes the crazed wolf monsters just bounded off after the next scent. They left her for a few minutes as they gave chase but would always find her again after the kill. Sometimes bringing her back an organ or the animal’s head. Most often they would regurgitate for her like she was a pup and what came up smelled far worse than their exterior or even their scat.
She was exhausted. Her paws still hurt from the fight and she had not properly warmed up from the swim in the river. She would have normally cuddled up with the pack for a few hours until her extremities warmed and dried out. Glasgow’s feet and ears were numb. Her pack was gone and she was haunted by their faces. She kept seeing her daughter’s eyes hovering in front of her before they faded away into the blowing snow.
The disgusting rogues had tried frequently to mount Glasgow but thankfully whatever affliction had turned them mad had also prevented them from being effective at mating. She had been hinting to her mate recently that she was almost ready and these insane creatures were certainly picking up the smells of her heat. She didn’t want to entertain the thought of these wolves being successful. They did however bite down hard when they tried, leaving deep cuts on her neck and back. Frustration would eventually take over and they would shove her aside, growling and snapping at some unseen enemy.
Glasgow had picked up a familiar scent and had tried hard to steer the rogues away from it. She bounded over a narrowing in the river where some beavers had once lived and led the rogues away from the smell and up the far side of the valley. She had been able to keep them distracted for an hour while they hunted and killed a snow fox and her young, but they eventually caught the scent she was trying to keep them from and bolted back across the river. She tried to pause at the water’s edge but they just shoved her across, dragging her by the back of the neck when she stumbled. They closed on the scent and Glasgow worried things were soon going to go from bad to worse.
The rogues stepped from the deep forest cover and onto the trail made by the humans. They could hear the small group of males and females just around the bend. The humans had stopped and were communicating. Glasgow tried one last time to convince the two male rogues to run the other way but she received a powerful swat to the face and was pushed forward down the trail.
The wolves came to a shiny food item the humans had discarded. It was slick and the crumbs inside smelled like roots. The rogues nudged her forward again and they stopped at the head of a large meadow that sloped steeply down before leveling again as it reached the river.
The humans had moved down the steep, wide clearing and were sliding away quickly. The agitated rogues devised their plan and then split up and darted into the woods. Glasgow watched them run through the trees on either side of the sloping bowl. She knew they would circle and attack from opposite flanks when the group of oblivious humans reached the narrow gap in the woods where it closed in again at the river’s edge.
Chapter 53
A twenty something pair of girls shot past Willie and Valerie, hooting and laughing as they crested the ridge and tucked down to race through the deep powder towards the larger group. Willie thought they might be partners but Valerie said not, and assured him her gaydar was always spot on. Willie thought that was a pity, things can get pretty freaky in the woods after a few bottles of wine and some weed…and a little molly…and maybe a line, or two. Willie smiled, remembering how Valerie’s panties basically flung themselves off when they role played bad-cop using his
emergency pistol the night before.
After a quick stop at the falls in the valley for lunch his group was going to have a long trek up the slope trail to the north cabin. It gets steep in places and there are some switchbacks so they’ll need to pole it most of the way. Everyone should be plenty tired when they reach the top, but the trip back down the far side of the mountain in the morning should be a cake walk. Depending on how much snow falls overnight, they shouldn’t have to touch their poles as they coast at double speed pretty much all the way to the service road.
Willie stopped at the top of the meadow to check the forecast on his range phone as Valerie speed off down the slope to catch up with the young women. Most of the guides carried this same combo cell-sat-GPS-radio-emergency beacon unit. He was far from any cell coverage, and with the thick snow clouds there wasn’t enough signal to even register one bar on the sat or GPS connection, but the mapping and weather didn’t need much reception as it was cumulative. He had just left it powered on for an hour and eventually it had picked up enough data to load the forecast and fix his position.
The weather report showed they should be fine until sunset when the winds would pick up again. High winds were the thing he worried about the most. The snow was no bother on skis, it’s the wind that makes for a miserable trek when you get past the forest and out onto open terrain. They had enjoyed only a mild breeze so far, and the snow showers had broken often enough for the group to get some awesome vista and wildlife shots.
Everyone seemed pretty happy, and it had been a good trip. Aside from that shit at the bar the other night the group loved the food and the accommodations. They had brought pretty good gear and everyone was in okay physical shape. No one was a roaring pain in the ass like that crazy bitch in the last group. The only thing they had not seen yet on this trip was one of Hamish’s wolves. They asked about it at every stop, and even Valerie busted his balls over it. Hamish’s wolf stories and that kid pumping them up about their Alpha sighting had been awesome, but it was a real crap shoot if Willie could actually deliver. He had to ride that fine line between optimism and promising with his guests. Of course they heard him promise regardless of what he actually said. He sort of understood Hamish’s position on keeping the wolves’ collar tracking signals a secret until the program matured and could be managed, but he and the other guides could also use the friggin’ cash.
The Glasgow Gray: Spot and Smudge - Book 2 Page 26
