Punish (Feral Justice Book 1)

by Vella Munn

  It was just getting light when Nate untangled himself from Rachelle and went into the bathroom. After urinating, he used a washcloth and cold water to freshen up. He’d thought about bringing a change of clothes, but that’s as far as it had gone.

  He didn’t know how to handle the approaching day. For the first time since he’d gone to work for the humane society, his mind wasn’t already clicking through his agenda. For all he knew, Crosby was signing his termination papers.

  No, Crosby wouldn’t do that, at least not as long as the grays were on the loose.

  Tell people about Lobo. Let them know the danger has grown.

  But had it?

  Back in the bedroom, he pulled on his briefs. He was reaching for his pants when Rachelle sat up. Thanks to the bathroom light and partly open door, he could see a crease on her right cheek.

  He wanted to spend the day with her. In bed.

  “Are you leaving?” she asked.

  “Soon. I need—hell, I need to do a lot today. Now that Joe’s out of danger…”

  “Wait.” She crawled out of bed and headed for the bathroom. “We have to talk.”

  When he heard the shower start, he went into the kitchen where he found coffee and started it brewing. Although he didn’t want to, he turned on the TV. The two early morning reporters were making up for a lack of updates by showing clips of interviews with several residents. A young woman at a park with her toddler and baby said she was scared but her husband had insisted the canine killers wouldn’t come to the middle of town. The somber mayor reassured residents that law enforcement and animal control personnel were putting all their resources into locating and capturing the dogs. Yes, he said in answer to the reporter’s question, it was possible the dogs would be killed on sight, but only if whoever was trying to capture them had no choice. Bonnie Martin planted her age-spotted hands on her hips and in a no-nonsense tone declared that she and other humane society volunteers applauded the grays.

  “The puppy I’m fostering was dumped in the trash,” the head of the department’s volunteers said. “No one knows who did that despicable thing—except, maybe, the dogs some people think are cold-blooded killers. If those three find the man or woman who threw away an innocent puppy, I hope they give whoever it is a taste or his or her medicine.”

  “I wonder how many people feel the way she does.”

  Surprised that Rachelle could come into the living room without him sensing her presence, he shrugged. Then, because that wasn’t enough, he stood and faced her. She wore a blouse and slacks she’d obviously brought with her. She looked amazing.

  “A lot, I hope,” he said. He meant it.

  “But will it make a difference for Smoke and her brothers? And now for Lobo?”

  “Maybe not.”

  “Because they’re killers. Their punishment is death.”

  Before he could respond, his body became numb, as if it no longer belonged to him. A dark mist surrounded him, lifted him and took him away. He didn’t care where he was or how this had happened. Only the journey mattered.

  For a while without definition, he floated. Then the mist lifted, and he found himself staring at what appeared to be a man. He couldn’t be sure because the figure was dressed in something black that covered him from his shoulders to his bare feet. A wooden mask resembling a hairless dog with oversized fangs hid everything except the wearer’s ebony eyes.

  “Believe. Surrender. Hear the souls of Nature’s creatures cry for justice.”

  “Nate!” Rachelle exclaimed. “Are you all right?”

  I don’t know.

  “Nate? Do you hear me?”

  “I…” Even though he couldn’t think how to finish, the act of speaking returned him to the world he knew. Maybe her voice was responsible.

  “You’re scaring me,” she said. “It’s like, I thought you were going to pass out.”

  I went somewhere. Something spoke to me. “No,” he told her even though he wasn’t sure. “What were you saying?”

  She stared at him. “That—” She blinked repeatedly. “Dad’s dogs’ fate has been sealed. They’ll be killed.”

  “No, damn it. I won’t let that happen!” Was that him speaking or the caped and masked thing?

  “How?”

  As his awareness grew, he forced away his insane question of a moment ago. There had to be an explanation for what had happened, didn’t there? Whatever it was, he didn’t want to think about that now. As he cast around for something to focus on, his thoughts snagged on Wayde’s place. Only Lobo had been able to escape the enclosure. If the fence had been a little higher—

  Fighting the impulse to tell Rachelle what he was thinking, he brushed past her on his way to the kitchen. He poured them each a cup of coffee, shaking his head when she asked if he wanted sugar or cream.

  Starting when he’d seen a gray for the first time, he’d felt as if he was losing parts of himself. Until a few minutes ago he hadn’t understood. Now, maybe, he did. The powerful and commanding image—image?—might be responsible.

  Maybe whatever that thing was controlled the grays.

  “Listen to me, Nate. I am the Force. I speak, you obey.”

  His heart raced. Despite his attempt to focus on Rachelle, he couldn’t. The Force was too strong.

  “Good,” the Force told him. “Don’t be afraid. Find a way to keep my followers alive.”

  Nate stalked to the window. The coffee cup burned his palm, but he couldn’t let go. What was it the Force had commanded? Something about using his ability to reason to save the grays.

  There might be a way! They’d have to spend the rest of their lives behind cages, but a lot of people saw them as heroes. They might support his plan, maybe finance it.

  “I want to see Dad before I go to work,” Rachelle said.

  “Of course you do.”

  “Nate, while I was in the shower, what I’d wanted to tell Dad yesterday came back to me. It’s about why the dogs act the way they do.”

  Shaking himself free of his still-swirling thoughts, he turned his back to the window. He held his cup with both hands to keep from touching her. “Tell me.”

  “Did Dad tell you he found them in Arizona on the Hopi reservation? When I was in college I took a course on Native American history, traditions and beliefs. Between that and what I found on the Internet—hear me out before you call me crazy.”

  I won’t.

  The more she told him, the more convinced he became that she was born to be a teacher. Her detail impressed him as did her delivery. The Hopi lived in arid country, and the sparse rain was essential for the farming, mostly corn, beans and squash that sustained them. Even today the Hopi relied on belief in their spirits to provide the necessary moisture. They did everything they could to assure that the spirits would see them as worthy. Priests conducted ceremonies designed to honor the spirits and mark the seasons.

  During ceremonies, Hopi men dressed in elaborate kachina costumes that symbolized what was important to them. Kachina dolls were popular with tourists and those interested in Native American lore, but more importantly, the dolls and costumes remained vital aspects of modern reservation life. There were hundreds of kachinas, everything from insects to the sun.

  “Many Hopi believe that being in harmony with their surroundings is essential.”

  Their gazes locked, and for a moment silence spoke its own language. How would she react if he told her what he’d just experienced?

  “As I said,” she continued, “ceremonies mark the seasons. The most important take place when it’s time to sow the seeds in spring. The god Masau is in charge because his role is so prominent.”

  Masau? Could the god also be the Force?

  As she stared at her hands around her cup, he read hesitancy in every line of her body. “Maybe I’m crazy but—all right, Masau is the god of life and death. He was—is—the most powerful spirit as far as the Hopi are concerned. Nate, what if Masau becomes angry when—when people don’t respect li
ving things, when they’re cruel?”

  “When they kill simply because they can.” Gathering himself, he continued. “You said kachina costumes and dolls represent everything that has meaning to the Hopi. What about Masau? What does he look like?”

  “I don’t know. I tried to find that out but—I’m thinking the Hopi don’t share everything about their beliefs with outsiders. Apparently when it’s time for his role in the spring ceremony, Masau smears his face with rabbit blood and streaks that with black paint. He wears freshly killed rabbit skin. He also has on both a loincloth and a woman’s dress to symbolize his influence over all humans.”

  What about the rest of the time? Does he wrap himself in something, maybe a black bear pelt, and wear a wolf or dog mask? “Rabbit blood?”

  “That might be their way of honoring the creature’s sacrifice in feeding the Hopi.”

  “So maybe Masau had something to do with the grays’ existence?” he asked. “But Joe took them from Hopi land.”

  “Maybe Masau found them.”

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  The morning sun hadn’t yet reached her dad’s place when Nate and Rachelle locked the door and headed, holding hands but not speaking, toward the parking area. Nate had told her he wanted to go to his place to shower before contacting the humane society manager. Much as she needed to know the details of the conversation between Nate and Crosby, she couldn’t bring herself to ask Nate to call her. They’d had sex. That didn’t mean they were ready to share their lives with each other.

  What was she thinking? They’d already shared things she never would with another human. As long as they lived, they’d be linked.

  “Nate—”

  Before she could continue, his hold on her hand tightened. “Look.”

  The three grays and a smaller creature she had no doubt was the wolf-dog were heading for them from the trees to the left of the place.

  “Oh my God,” she whispered.

  Nate tried to push her behind him, but she refused to move. She’d suspected this moment would come. Seeing the creatures that meant so much to her dad brought fresh tears. Despite her feelings for them, the reality was that they were killers. She trembled, and unless she was mistaken, so did Nate.

  “Don’t make a sudden move,” he said. “It might excite them enough that they’ll attack.”

  “I won’t.” He was right. These weren’t the playful pups Dad had bottle-fed.

  “What do you guys want?” Nate continued to hold onto her while extending his free hand toward the dogs.

  All four stopped when maybe forty feet separated animals from humans. The distance wasn’t enough. She felt as if she was becoming part of them, losing chunks of herself. The group made sniffing noises while Lobo bared his fangs and extended his muzzle. His nostrils flared.

  “They’re making sure it’s safe for them,” he said.

  “It is.”

  “What about us?”

  She’d give anything to have Dad here. Seeing his beloved companions would do more for him than any medication. That’s what she’d think about, not the death sentences looming over his babies—or their deadly purpose.

  “He’s going to be all right.” Please let that be true. “He’s in the hospital, but as soon as they let me, I’ll bring him back to you.”

  “Rachelle, don’t.”

  Fighting Nate’s warning took a great deal out of her, but saying what she had represented a brief escape from reality. She refused to let him ruin that. Besides, she’d stared into the grays’ eyes and seen no hatred. Maybe they loved her as much as she wanted to love them.

  Blinking back fresh tears, she pulled free and covered the short distance between her and the animals. Behind her Nate’s breathing quickened.

  “Do you know what you’ve done?” she asked as Smoke’s breath dampened her hand. Lobo stood back as if separating himself from the action. “Maybe the consequences don’t matter to you. You don’t know about such things as laws and—”

  “Ask them if they have any control over what they did.”

  Was Nate right? The killings had been prompted by something deeper than an instinct for revenge—by Masau.

  “Maybe Dad should have left you on the reservation,” she whispered as she touched Smoke’s jaw. “That way you wouldn’t have this powerful need for…”

  Gun and Stone had been standing behind Smoke, but now Gun brushed past his sister and headed for Nate. For a moment Nate looked as if he’d give anything to be somewhere else. His features relaxed when Gun reached him. He placed his hands on either side of the young male’s head and lifted it so man and animal were studying each other.

  “You’ve been changing me,” Nate muttered. “You know it, don’t you?”

  Changing you how? she nearly asked, but she knew. Before this Nate would have already called for backup. He wouldn’t have had sex with her or protected her dad’s identity. It wouldn’t have entered his mind to jeopardize his career.

  “You represent something I don’t understand,” he continued, “but I’m trying to. I need to. Where is this going? If all of you were free to do what you want, would there be more killings? Maybe you’d just be dogs.”

  Nate had barely finished asking when the big, muscular gray licked his face. Nate’s eyes closed and he leaned forward until the two were forehead to forehead.

  Alarm snaked through Rachelle. She couldn’t put a name to it, only knew this moment between them was fleeting.

  Smoke whined.

  “What is it?” she demanded. “What are you trying to tell me?”

  A rough, warm, wet tongue bathed the side of her neck and eased some of her fear. She wrapped her arm around Smoke’s neck before turning back to Nate. The man she’d twice made love to remained in wordless contact with Gun. Both swayed a little, maybe a joint hypnosis.

  People needed to see this. Then they’d understand that the grays—and maybe now their wolf-dog companion—weren’t killing machines. They were capable of complex emotions, love and compassion among them.

  Could she somehow save them?

  The question shook her. Whatever happened was beyond her control.

  The better part of a minute passed before Nate straightened and stepped back from Gun. The dog too retreated as if he no longer wanted anything to do with the human.

  Clenching his fists, Nate shook his head like a man coming back to consciousness. “I have to go to—have to leave.”

  The warm morning breeze dried the saliva Smoke had deposited on her neck. Thinking to thank the gray for the brief connection, she opened her mouth, but Smoke was turning around. With each step the animal took, Rachelle felt less connected to her. The grays were controlled by forces she’d never fathomed. Much as they fascinated her, those forces also intimidated and alarmed her. She had a life beyond whatever this was, a living to earn, a father who needed her.

  And Nate?

  The four animals trotted back the way they’d come. If Nate had been armed and was thinking the way he’d been trained to, he might have already fired his weapon. Instead, he continued to stand with his hands fisted as he watched the grays and Lobo leave.

  Concerned for him, she went to him and tried to ease the tension out of his fingers. No way would she remind him that he had a job to go to.

  “You need a shower,” she said and aimed him at his vehicle. “Call me, please. I need to know…”

  “What I decide to do.”

  “Yes.” How she hated saying the word.

  * * * *

  Joe was awake and alert when Rachelle entered his room. To her relief the TV was tuned to the History Channel.

  “Have you seen the doctor?” she asked after kissing his cheek. Even though she couldn’t stay long, she positioned a chair where he could see her and sat.

  “Not yeth. I want to go home.”

  Despite his still-affected speech, she thought his mouth didn’t sag as much as it had yesterday. “And I want you to blow this joint but not until we ge
t the official word. I’d hate to have them haul you back in here because we’ve jumped the gun.”

  “You’re—on your way to work?”

  “In a few minutes. My principal has been understanding—up to a point. I don’t dare press my luck.”

  “I’m thorry I kept you from—”

  “Don’t say it.” She tempered her retort with a smile. “Believe me, only your health mattered. That’s still priority number one.”

  When he didn’t respond, she knew the time would soon come when they’d have to talk about his mortality. Whatever he had to say, she’d listen, and if he needed the occasional prompting, hopefully she’d come up with the right words. A man who’d survived being a prisoner of war deserved better than a stroke. Why couldn’t life be fair, whatever fair was?

  “Tell me,” he said in a near whisper. “Are they thill alive?”

  Even though they were alone, she looked around the small, sterile room. “Yes.” Then needing to be honest, she told him about seeing the grays about a half hour ago. She also told him about Lobo.

  “I don’t underthand,” he said. “They never had anythin to do with other dogs.”

  “Lobo is half wolf. Maybe that makes a difference.”

  “Is he like ’em?”

  Knowing what he’d left unsaid, she spread her hand over her throat. “It’s too soon to tell. Unlike the grays, Lobo didn’t try to connect with Nate and me this morning.” The moment the words were out of her mouth she acknowledged Dad needed to know what had taken place between her and the animal control officer. Maybe once he did he’d be able to explain it to her.

  “You two thpent the night at my place?”

  Answering would be easier if she closed her eyes, but she wouldn’t! “Yes. In your bed.”

  “I’m not s-prised.”

  “What?”

  “You know what I’m trying to say.”

  Loving him, she stood and gently hugged him. “It’s so complicated. Everything is.” She followed that up by telling him about the brief and beautiful connection between Nate and Gun. “I’m glad I saw that. It showed me a side of Nate I wasn’t sure existed.”