It was probably well after midnight now-- Nathan didn't know since he wasn't wearing a watch-- but the moon had already passed its zenith in the sky. He'd been there long enough to walk around the edge of the lake five times, taking lengthy pauses in-between to stoke and sit by the campfire. Nathan's boredom was all-encompassing: He was counting the minutes until dawn, checking the north-western sky every few minutes for the first sign of the pre-dawn light of the sun. In truth, he had not been able to figure out why they had brought him here. His guess was that it was a survival exercise of some kind. Perhaps his work with the wolves would require him to be away from civilization without supplies for days at a time, and they needed to see how he would handle it. Then again, who could say what they were really after? His regret was ever-growing that he had not asked them to take him back to the airport when he had had the chance. At this point, he only hoped it wasn't too late to still back out. As far as Mr. Flowers' last words were concerned-- about Mr. Foxley being a 'fox-man'-- Nathan really didn't know what to make of that. Mr. Foxley's associates were apparently adept in the art of saying a lot without without saying much.. or rather, saying very little without saying anything at all of worth. Nathan guessed he somehow meant it figuratively. Still he knew what he saw, or at least thought he knew. If Mr. Foxley were wearing an oddly shaped hat and maybe a trench coat... then again... Nathan shook his head. Such things only happened in science fiction or poorly-written short stories, and the stick poking him in his side was enough to convince him that this was reality. He rolled over and removed the stick, tossing it into the fire. He almost wished he would get offered the position just so that he could meet Mr. Foxley and find out what all the secrecy was about. Almost. Oddly, he was not cold. When he breathed slowly he could see his breath, so he knew he should be cold, yet the only part of his body that felt even slightly cool was his nose, which had begun to run. He wiped it every few minutes, and even tried holding it in the crook of his elbow for a while. That made it warmer, but it continued to run nonetheless. Nathan knew he was being watched: Earlier that evening he'd seen the light of the full-moon glint off something on the ridge to the northeast. He'd seen it again twice shortly later. It had to be someone from the Preserve with a pair of binoculars, perhaps observing him, or maybe just making sure he didn't try to leave. Nathan tried not to let whoever it was know that he knew they were there. He lay next to the campfire, wishing he could sleep. He wasn't afraid or uncomfortable-- in fact, lying on his side next to the warm embers, he knew he would have no trouble falling asleep, if he were even remotely tired. After a while, Nathan sat up again. He had so much energy he felt like running a few laps around the small body of water, but settled instead for taking another stroll around it. He was about twenty yards from the campfire when he stopped abruptly: Somewhere on the other side of the ridge to the southeast a wolf howled. Nathan stood awe-struck. It was a long, mournful cry, slowly rising up to a solitary note then down again, and finally ending as the wolf ran out of breath. It was almost as if she didn't have the strength to cry any longer. Nathan let out the breath he'd been holding. Was this one of the wolves he would be working with? She had to be, they had brought him here for a reason, and this had to be... Three more wolves began howling, again on the other side of that ridge, but much closer than the first had been. One female, one male, and a pup, probably female. Nathan suddenly realized they were headed his direction. He looked back toward his campfire, at the same time realizing that he didn't have a thing with which to defend himself. The fire was little more than a few glowing coals at this time, but if he built it up enough, maybe it would be enough to keep the wolves away. Another wolf howled, another pup, this one male, and Nathan started toward the fire. After a few steps he fell flat on his face in the weeds. He was beginning to grow panicked. He tried to get up, but his legs wouldn't cooperate, so he resorted to crawling back to the fire. The weeds slapped his face and nose, causing him to sneeze. His mind was a mess thoughts: "Survival exercise? What is it something like 'If you live to see the morning, you've got the job'? Who do they think I am, Julie of the wolves? This is insane!... Did you hear that? God, they're just on the other side of the ridge! How could I be so stupid? Damn, why didn't I just say 'no'?" He began shoveling the sticks he'd collected onto the fire. "No wonder the last project leader was killed-- probably in the bellies of those wolves now... Damn. Not enough. Not enough and too small. That's going to burn up in ten minutes, and then I'm sunk." Another wolf, the male from before, howled again. Nathan could hardly believe his ears. For a moment, he was elated at what he heard. "Can't find me? Hah! Use your nose, stupid. Who else could be burning the only fire for miles around? Maybe that's why you're the omega, and not the alpha. Maybe that's why you're so hungry right now." The first wolf, who Nathan recognized as the first female let out another gut-wrenching, mournful howl. The sound tore at Nathan and made him stumble as he paced nervously next to the fire. "You're hungry too? But you're the best hunter! Why don't you go out and kill something so you can all eat? There's plenty of deer around-- I can smell one in that bunch of trees over there..." Eight wolves, their voices mixed so that Nathan couldn't distinguish among them, began a round of wailing. He collapsed to the ground, squeezing tears out the sides of his eyelids. "Another pup has died? Oh, God! How did it get this bad? Where's your alpha? Where's your alpha?" He sat up and through bleary eyes saw the binoculars glint on the ridge again. Rage welled within him. He let out a frustrated growl, then screamed at the watchers on the hill, "Damn you people! How could you let it get this bad!? They haven't eaten in a week!" Or, at least, he tried to scream that. What actually came from his mouth was a howl so angry and so loud the echoes shook Nathan to his very bones. There was silence. Nathan could hear his heart hammering a quick tempo within his breast. To the left somewhere, a cricket began to sing. Nathan looked down. It should have been obvious to him at this point, but he was shocked nonetheless: He was sitting on his haunches. Just like a dog would. He could even see his grey tail wrapped around his front paws. The remains of his clothing hung in a tattered mess around his frame. He looked up at the ridge from where Mr. Foxley (and indeed, he smelled just like a fox) was watching him. So this is what he had meant. And the need? Oh yes. The need was great. Greater than Nathan could have imagined. A howl pierced the relative silence of the night. Nathan could see the form of who he now recognized as the alpha-female on the ridge to the southeast. "Are you there?" she said. He returned his attention to Mr. Foxley. Did Nathan accept his position? He stood on all four paws, pausing only to tear the last of his clothing away with his teeth. "Yes, I'm here," he said. Mr. Flowers was sleeping soundly when the anthropomorphic fox burst out of the underbrush and began beating on his window. "Let me in! Let me in, dammit!" The man in the driver's seat jumped, then opened the door. The fox jumped over him and into the passenger's seat. "So, how'd it go?" A triumphant howl rose over the trees less then a third of a mile away. Mr. Foxley's eyes went wide as he cowered in the front seat, the fur on his tail bristling out like a scrub-brush. "Th-that would be the deer I stumbled upon." Mr. Flowers smiled and began driving the 4x4 down the road back to the underground headquarters. Another wolf howled, and the fox shuddered. Mr. Flowers couldn't help but chuckle. "Don't laugh!" demanded Mr. Foxley. "He was after me! If I hadn't come across that deer, I probably would have been their meal." "Oh, sorry," said the driver, but he continued to smile. After they had driven for a few miles, the fox began to calm down. He sat up in the seat as a human would and buckled the seat-belt. He opened the glove box and began rummaging around for something. "I don't think it would be a good idea for me to show my tail in the woods near the pack for a while," began Mr. Foxley, pulling out a dead mouse and closing the glove box. "I'm afraid Nathan was quite angry that it took me nearly a week to get him here." He bit into the mouse. "You know, it didn't have to take that long." Mr. Foxley frowned, looking at the driver. "You sound just like Ms. Faulkner-- if she had her way, she'd do it just like that damned Derksen always does. And if he had his way, he'd make entire towns disappear if he could find cover stories good enough to hold up under fire." He waved the bottom-half of the mouse around in the air like a wand. "Oh-- speaking of which..." "There was a plane crash in Colorado this afternoon. No survivors. He was on that flight." The fox grinned widely, displaying two rows of sharp teeth. "You know, you're good at what you do. Really good." Mr. Flowers smiled sullenly. The fox bit off another piece of mouse. "No-- I don't agree with that philosophy at all. You've got to take them willingly if they're going to survive at all in the wild. It's no wonder the old alpha was killed. Transferred down here from Derksen's lab up north, I'd be willing to bet Derksen just took some poor sap right off the street." He pointed at the driver with the mouse's tail. "You tell me: Do you think any alpha wolf that will attack a full-grown bull moose miles away from the rest of his pack has got anything on his mind other than suicide?" "No, I don't." "And then the rest of them wouldn't choose a new alpha." He shook his head, "I don't care what Derksen's opinion is. Their minds do survive the process." He bit down on the mouse tail resolutely. "So how many is that for you, now?" "Nathan? Oh, he's the thirteenth to join project W.O.L.F. One of the first of what I hope will be thousands." Mr. Foxley smiled as he opened the glove box in search of another mouse. "He'll make a great alpha, too. You should have seen how happy the pack was-- so much tail wagging and face licking... I could have stayed there all night, until I noticed he was leading them in my direction." "Why did he do that, do you suppose?" Mr. Foxley closed the glove box, frowning. "We lost another pup tonight." Mr. Flowers looked at the fox. Mr. Foxley looked back, concerned, "I'm sorry-- had I known it was going to get this bad, I would have moved a lot quicker. But you of all people should know how important it is that we be able to cover our tracks." He shuddered. "He didn't have to let me go either. For the last mile he was right on my tail, nipping at my heels. When I scared that doe out of hiding he hesitated before taking up pursuit after it. I think he was trying to let me know that I need to be more careful." They drove in silence for a while longer. Then Mr. Flowers said, "We probably could have filled that position before any wolves were lost." Mr. Foxley scowled, looking at Mr. Flowers. "How?" Mr. Flowers looked down. The fox's eyes went wide. "Oh dear God! You were serious!" Mr. Flowers concentrated on the road. "I... I'm sorry I didn't seriously consider your offer. Even so-- we would have had a much harder time filling your position without your help than the alpha's." The driver didn't respond. After a while, Mr. Foxley laid a paw on the man's right arm. "If you are still interested, I can start work on finding a replacement for you after you and Ms. Faulkner get back from collecting the remnants of Nathan's clothes and my binoculars in the morning." Mr. Flowers didn't say anything, but slowed the vehicle and parked it before the small cabin that served as the entrance to the facility. Both occupants disembarked. Mr. Foxley stood next to the large 4x4, leaning on it with his left paw as he studied his companion. Mr. Flowers thought he always looked strange standing like that-- on only his hind-paws. Mr. Foxley knew this but did it anyway to remind his co-workers that although he had fur and a tail, he was a sentient, thinking being on the inside. Just like all the other animals on the Preserve. Mr. Flowers waited for his opposite at the door. At last, smiling smugly, Mr. Foxley walked to the door on all fours, as was most natural for him. Before going in, though, he sat on his haunches at Mr. Flowers' feet. "All right then. I guess the only thing left to decide is male or female." Mr. Flowers smiled and held open the door. Before going in, the fox turned his head toward the direction they had come. Quietly-- much too quietly for his human compatriots to hear-- he heard the faint wailing of a dozen wolves rejoicing after a meal they so desperately needed. "Yes," thought Mr. Foxley, "He'll make a great alpha." Copyright © 2000 by SR Foxley. All rights reserved. Please contact the author if you have questions regarding the publication of this document.
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