The ‘zoo’ area lay quiet and still. There was still no sign of the snow hares, and the lion’s enclosure looked empty.
But it had looked empty the first time we were here too.
His memory of the lion’s leap out of hiding was far too strong to let him get sloppy this close to the cage. He eyed it warily as he led the group past it, looking for any sign that the big cat might once again be crouched in the foliage, biding its time.
He was so busy watching the cage he almost leapt in the air in surprise when something brushed past his legs. One of the pale snow hares sat at his feet, looking up at him. They were each as surprised as the other, and neither of them moved for the space of two breaths before the hare slapped a foot against the concrete floor as if in indignation, and bounded away, deeper into the facility. Banks watched it go, then the implication hit him; if the hares could get out of their enclosure and into the domed area, then it was probable that the larger predators would be able to do the same.
“I see your boyish charm is still working, Cap,” Wiggins said as the hare bounded around the side of the aviary and out of sight, then he went quiet when Banks put a finger to his lips.
“Quiet, and double time,” Banks replied. “We could be in trouble.”
He led them into the dome that housed the aviary, and into the covered walkway that ran around the inside of the large dome. The Russian, Volkov, still lay on the trestle in the aviary, splayed open for the world to see. It didn’t appear that anything had been feasting on him since their last walk past that morning; the birds had bigger, tender pickings out on the plain. But something had been here, in the walkway; more than one thing by the look of it. Banks had seen more than enough dog tracks in mud and snow to know what he was looking at, but these were done in red, bloody smears across the concrete, and each print was as big as a man’s hand.
The culprits were easily enough found. Banks walked ‘round the curve of the aviary to where the door led through toward the labs. Three wolves almost filled the doorway and they too had found tender pickings. They were busy chewing down on the dead scientists, their snouts red and dripping, their feet soaked with blood and gore from the bloody feast.
The largest of the three looked up from where it had its jaws deep in the belly of one of the young scientists. Drool ran from its lower lip, and its gaze locked on Banks. It wasn’t the large male; he guessed this was mama wolf. He raised his rifle, at the same time taking slow steps backward the way they had come.
He walked into Galloway. The scientist had dropped his dead companion at his feet, and was staring, not toward the lab doorway, but back toward the aviary. Hynd and McCally were bringing up the rear, but Banks saw enough in the gap between them.
The big male wolf sat on its haunches in the center of the walkway, and it too locked its gaze on Banks, and rolled its lips back in a smile.
- 16 -
“Let me take him, Cap,” McCally said. “I can put two between his eyes from here and wipe that smile off his face.”
“Stand down,” Banks said. “But keep an eye on him, and take him if he moves. We’re not going that way anyway; we need to get through that lab. And we need to do it now.”
He was keenly aware that the light was fading fast now, and fog swirled above the does, making the gloom darker still.
“Wiggo, you’re with me.”
“Lovely,” the private said. “You and me and three dogs; it’ll be like that bar in Dublin all over again.”
Galloway and Waterston stood over their dead friend, as if determined to protect the body. Banks stopped as they were passing.
“We might have to run,” he said.
Galloway understood immediately.
“I’m not leaving him.”
“That’s up to you, but we might be a tad too busy to help.”
“I’ll manage.”
“We’ll manage,” Waterston added.
Banks nodded, and turned his full attention to the task at hand. The three wolves had barely slowed in their feasting in the doorway, seeming to be unconcerned at the presence of the men.
“How do we play this, Cap?” Wiggins whispered.
“Just follow me. The big lad buggered off quickly enough when I got close the last time. I’m hoping these three share his skittishness.”
“That makes two of us,” Wiggins said.
They took three steps toward the doorway.
The big female looked up again, as if to ask ‘Are you still here?’
Banks kept moving, although every part of him felt like jelly, and his hindbrain was yelling at him to run. He showed the wolf his rifle, and took another step forward. He was only ten feet from her now, and the two smaller ones looked up from their feeding, curious.
He’d hoped that they would have turned and run by now, but the promise of easy food had emboldened them, and they were not about to relinquish the meal easily. He pointed his weapon to the roof of the dome and let off two shots, the roar echoing for seconds afterward around them. Glass tinkled where it fell.
The wolves had seen enough. But his shots had the opposite effect from that he had intended. Instead of scaring them off, they leapt into an attack, all three coming directly for him.
He couldn’t get his weapon up in time. The female flew into him, knocked him aside like a rag doll, then kept on going. He fired a shot that went wild into the corridor ahead and then had to push back against the wall as the two smaller beasts followed their mother. More shots echoed around the complex, more glass shattered, and one of the younger wolves howled in pain, but kept running.
Banks smelled blood and piss and shite and wet dog, all at the same time, then the beasts were off and away past them, leaving a startled band of men in their wake. Galloway nursed an ankle that was bleeding badly from a bite, but if that was the only casualty, Banks considered they’d got off easily from a bad mistake.
I underestimated them. They weren’t in our way; we were in their way.
He bent to Galloway’s side, and helped put pressure on the wound while McCally applied a tourniquet.
“We need to get that seen to, Cap,” the corporal said.
“Aye. And we’ll do it, once we get to cover. Move it out. Right now.”
His squad moved to comply. Galloway stood, tried to put his weight on his leg, and almost crumpled. Waterston held him up.
“I’ve got you,” the older man said.
Galloway looked down at the body at their feet.
“We can’t leave him,” he said.
Waterston started to drag Galloway away.
“Yes, we can. Better him than us if those bastards get hungry.”
Galloway looked like he might argue, then put his foot down on the floor and had to stifle a cry of pain. This time, when Waterston took another step, he went along with it. Neither of them looked back.
Banks let Hynd and McCally take the lead. Hynd took the water bottles off Wiggins before turning away. Banks stood looking back over the aviary. There was no sign of the wolves.
“They won’t go far,” Wiggins said. “Not with this fresh meat around.”
Banks nodded, and kicked the body at their feet.
“Aye. And if this poor bastard keeps them from bothering us, then he’ll be doing us a favor.”
They waited until the others were deep into the corridor making for the lab before turning to follow them. Wiggins stopped after two steps.
“We cannae leave him, Cap. It’s not right, favor or no favor, he’s one of us, and not dog food.”
“I was hoping you might say that,” Banks replied. “Get an end each, we’ll see if we can get him somewhere safer in the lab.”