“Okay. They’re yours. I thought you said ‘I should not have done’ before. Are these cats special or something?”
It took a moment until the stranger understood what he was referring to. “No. You bleed them,” he said pointing to the ground. “Much blood; Raveners come quickly.”
“Raveners,” Bishop asked.
“Raveners like us, but not like us,” he explained.
“Mohctp,” another one said.
Bishop thought about it. He must mean those creatures I saw on the plains and in the cave. I was right. It is the blood. Something else I’ll have to remember.
“Why the wolf no attack you?” one of the men asked.
“I don’t know. I have a way with people sometimes. Maybe some of that rubbed off on him,” Bishop said in his dry manner. It was clear that his wit did not register among this crowd.
The stranger gave commands as four of his men tied the two lions to wooden poles to make it easier to transport. Bishop walked to pick up his spear and was a little surprised when he was not challenged. They must believe I’m of little threat to them considering their numbers. That was fine. I’m glad to have some company. More than likely, I’m extra support in case they run into something more dangerous than I am.
They walked at a fast pace and continued on in the southerly direction he was heading. One of the crew remained at the rear. He was able to keep an eye on this newcomer, and their back trail at the same time. Bishop was content to let the others do the watching for him. If they were going to be hostile toward him, they would have already done something. If he were wrong about that then he would know soon enough.
—
The wolf remained at a distance listening to the humans speak. Once they were gone, he returned to feed on some of what they had left on the ground. He ate both of the livers and the hearts, leaving most of the rest. He was not sure why the humans left without taking them as they were considered to be the ‘choicest’ parts. He walked back to the lion, picked it up, and went on his way.
He returned to the crags, which were his home. Upon entering, he dropped his catch on the ground and walked toward his den. He saw the golden stares among the rocks as the faces of his pack looked on. After he passed them, they slowly made their way to the food he brought. He did not care. He provided for the pack, as was the custom. He was the largest and most successful hunter. Unlike the rest, he was not a pack animal at heart. He viewed them as weak because they were unable to function alone as he did. They were opportunists who sought to find the easiest prey. Even long dead things appealed to their hunger. He did not hunt out of hunger; he hunted for the challenge. The only creatures he stalked were predators, like himself.
He bedded down for the remainder of the day, in the protection of his den, knowing he would not be bothered, and thought about the human who helped him out of the pit. He was the first living thing the wolf had ever encountered that showed no fear of him. Even his own kind feared him.
He followed him after the human had moved on and thought him gone. He knew other humans were around, as well as some other predators. He smelled them all. As he flanked him in the cover of the trees, he saw the lions moving in. This was when he went on the attack. He killed the first lion with relative ease as he caught it unaware. The second lion was indecisive when it found itself between the human and the new threat from the wolf. Before it could turn to run away, the wolf struck it several times with its sharp claws inflicting serious wounds. The cat knew then he had to stand and fight. The great wolf had killed many cats before and took pleasure in doing so.
Before he went on the attack, the human threw something, which hurt the cat. When the lion had its attention diverted, he seized his opportunity. When it was over, the human walked to the lion, spoke to him in the same tone as he did before, and removed his weapon from the dead cat.
He sensed in this man creature a kindred spirit. He would find him again as he knew his scent. It was something to consider for another time. The sounds of the other wolves eating faded as he drifted off to sleep.
NINE
It was well into the evening by the time they entered the valley. It was a careful walk down a well-worn trail to reach the valley’s floor. Bishop could see fires burning both inside and outside of the dwellings. It looked to be a permanent settlement. When he looked into the night sky, he noticed that it was different here. It was the first time he had seen the shimmer of stars since the event. It was one more thing he had taken for granted in the course of his life.
He was shown to a vacant structure and encouraged to remain there. He looked inside and saw a bed with a mattress along with a few other items indicating it was a residence of sorts. He decided to sleep outside instead. He was not sure how far these people could be trusted, and he did not like the idea of having walls around him until he knew.
He saw people moving about but no one came near to him. Once he made himself comfortable, he drifted off into a half sleep. It was an ability he learned in his early military days. It was made easier now because he never required much sleep.
Before the sun crested the peaks above, he was awake. He refreshed and washed himself in the freshwater stream below the dwellings, and waited on whoever it was that was going to pay him a visit. He saw small birds flitting about in the underbrush; a small herd of cattle was feeding in the distance, and wild flowers were in bloom everywhere. It was as beautiful a setting as he had ever witnessed. It looked untouched by the harsh outside world. The valley exhibited life while the area above represented death.
Two men approached him from the same trail they had traveled the day before. “Hello. My name’s Weston and this is Sasha,” he said while offering his hand. He was older than Bishop, had a full red beard, graying in places, and looked to be in relatively good shape.
“I’m Bishop,” he said shaking the hands of both men.
“Where did you come from? We don’t see as many strangers as we once did,” Weston asked.
“North, far north.”
Weston just raised his eyes realizing the man was cautious and not likely to offer too much information.
“An area like this?” Weston asked referring to the valley.
“No, in the mountains.”
They looked at one another, each taking a measure of the man before them.
“The reason I asked if it was an area like this,” Weston went on thinking he would try to break the ice, “is because there is no radiation here. That is why you see life thriving. Our resident professor says it is due to an electromagnetic field. Whatever it is, it allows us to live as we do. Not too many things survive for long out there,” he said indicating the land above the valley.
“No, I don’t figure they would. Seems a bit hard and to the point; kill or be killed.”
Weston smiled. He liked this man. “I heard you did some killing yourself.”
“Yeah, your men took the bounty,” he said without malice.
“They told me you let the rock wolf out of their trap.”
“Rock Wolf; I didn’t know what it was called… Big thing.”
“And he is the biggest. I’ve never heard of anything ever escaping him alive, until you. He hunts alone, that is why we knew it was him,” Weston said. “How is it he not only didn’t attack you, but apparently helped you kill the lions?”
“I don’t know; maybe because I helped him out.”