As Malcolm slowed perceptibly, Derak began to go to the attack. He moved in with teeth and claws and drew howls of pain as he slashed through fur and flesh. Once Malcolm fell and Derak stood over him, teeth bared for the kill, but he backed off and gestured Malcolm toward him like a taunting prizefighter.
As Malcolm pulled himself erect, blood trickling from a dozen wounds, Holly had to look away. As she did so, she saw a man emerge from the brush along the trail. Gavin Ramsay. She ran toward the tall sheriff, ignored by the others, who were intent on the battle.
Ramsay stared at the two beasts. He opened his arms and gathered Holly in as she came to him.
"Are you all right?"
"Yes." Her voice was no more than a whisper.
Ramsay could not take his eyes off the wolves. He drew the revolver and leveled it at them.
Holly seized his wrist, forcing the arm down. "Don't," she said. "One of them is Malcolm."
"Jesus." Ramsay looked around at the others, who had now taken note of him. Normal-looking people, but in their eyes lay a threat. "Are they all...?"
"Yes," Holly said. "You might be able to kill some of them, but the rest would get us."
"Jesus," Ramsay said again. He put the gun away, and the others returned their attention to their leader and the young challenger.
The battle continued. Big patches of dark fur had been ripped from Malcolm's body. A tooth was gone, leaving a bloody socket. One of his ears was nearly torn away. It seemed only a matter of time before the more experienced of the two would finish the fight.
Then with shocking suddenness, Derak sprang at him. The killer teeth of the older wolf tore through his chest. Malcolm fell, blood streaming from this last and deepest wound. Derak poised for a moment over his fallen son, then cracked his jaws wide and bent down for the kill.
But Malcolm was not quite through. With an effort that brought blood pumping from his chest, he twisted where he lay so that when Derak came at him, his own throat was seized in Malcolm's jaws.
The muffled crunch of bone drew gasps from those who watched. The powerful wolf body of Derak thrashed and bucked, but the teeth of the younger beast were sunk deep. With a last strangled cry from Derak, it was over. Slowly the jaws of the son opened. The father lay limp and silent. The fur of both creatures was matted with blood. Malcolm turned his battered head to look over at Holly. She reached out to him.
Dragging himself painfully a few inches at a time, Malcolm came to her. Ramsay started again to reach for the pistol but held back, Holly dropped to her knees as the beast that had been a boy reached her. He rested his great torn muzzle against her for a moment, then he died.
Holly stroked the tangled fur of his head, smoothing it down. After a minute she stood up. "It's over, Gavin," she said.
He looked back along the ledge and frowned. "Where are the rest of them?"
Holly followed his gaze. The two of them were alone. They and the dead beasts. "They must have slipped away into the trees."
"Should we report this back in town?"
She looked deep into his eyes. "What do you think?"
"No," he said after a moment. "They'd put us away."
She nodded and squeezed his hand.
He said, "We'd better try and make it back before dark. Are you ready to walk down?"
"I'm ready," she said.
Gavin circled her waist with an arm and they started down the trail. From somewhere in the hills behind them they heard it one last time. The howling. They did not look back.