Spoils of War

Livin' On A Chain Gang

Blake and Adam crouched on a small buff overlooking the heat camp. Below them, a group of ten ferals milled around, sniffing the air and rooting through their supplies. This was a mixed group, alphas, omegas, and a few that even appeared to be betas. The largest alpha of the group had moved away, intent on the marked trail leading out of the camp. She stared down the trail, head cocked as though listening. Suddenly, she barked harshly. Immediately, the other ferals rose, taking their spoils and moving to follow her.

As soon as the ferals were gone, Blake swore softly. "Shit! You were right. It shouldn't be possible, Adam! I've dealt with these things all my life, and they've never shown this kind of intelligence or pack mentality. But you're absolutely right. They are a pack, a real mixed pack this time, and I'm betting that's only a small portion."

"Well if they're a mixed pack, they're probably not after me, right?" Adam asked hopefully.

"They're working together as a pack, following a Pack Alpha. They are absolutely after you, Adam, but the prize just got a lot bigger. Now they know we have food, as well, and that trail is an obvious invitation for more. They're going to go right down into the city, and I got no way to warn them!"

"We can take them, you and I?" Adam suggested. "Just get the key and take this collar off me..."

"I can't."

Adam ground his teeth. "Dammit, Blake! Fine, then just take the chain off the collar and lock both ends around yourself so it doesn't come loose. It will still hinder you a bit, but the two of us can take down ten ferals!"

"You don't get it," Blake explained patiently. "I didn't say I won't, I said I can't. I don't have the key."

Adam stared flatly at him. "You don't have the key? You brought me out here with no way to get this collar off of me if something happened? Seriously? What the hell is wrong with you, Shelton?"

"I was a dick, ok?" Blake exclaimed. "I knew I had to have the key to the chain so I could move you. But before I took you out here, I gave the key to your collar to one of the betas back home because I was pissed off and knew I had no intention of unlocking it. I'm sorry! I fucked up!"

Adam swore creatively at him. Blake nodded, accepting the abuse without complaint. "Later on, you can give me a good swift kick in the ass. I'll bend right over for it! But right now, we need to focus on the problem at hand. Bottom line, we're stuck like this until we can get back to the city. And we can't just follow down that path because if the border guards aren't there, and they clearly aren't, more ferals are going to come through here. All we need is to get caught between two packs!" He swore again. "I don't know what the fuck is going on here, Adam. Nothing about this makes sense. If the border guards were down, we should have known about it, and I don't get why the ferals are suddenly so spooky smart. Something's up! We gotta warn the city!"

"Ok, let me think." Adam frowned in concentration. "Alright, back home, before the war, I cut my teeth on the Dudes. They're this group of betas who ran off, but didn't go feral like these did because they formed their own pack. They're still crazy as hell, but they're smart, way smarter than these. Now, they didn't attack much because they didn't have the numbers..."

"...A problem ferals do not have!"

"...But when they did, they had a specific point where they all gathered together and then went to attack together. And they'd use various signals, usually bird calls, to coordinate their attacks." Adam gestured after the ferals. "Didn't it look to you like that Pack Alpha got some kind of signal?"

"Yeah," Blake agreed, looking at Adam with new respect. "Yeah, it did! You think they're coordinating something?"

"I think it's very possible. These may have come out here for me, but there is something much bigger going on here. This is your pack territory, Blake. Surely you know another way back to the city?"