Animal Nature

Chapter 25

When Shy got off the bus at the animal shelter on Tuesday afternoon, she barely noticed the white truck parked outside. She had spent all night and most of the school day doing research online, to find some way to cure David.

One of her books had put forth the theory that once the Alpha wolf was killed, all the werewolves he had created (called Beta wolves) would instantly be cured. David had said he was going up to Maine. She wondered if he knew about this, and would try to find the Alpha wolf himself, but she had no way to contact him. Her only hope was the wolfsbane.

Reality slammed those hopes out of Shy's head the moment she entered the shelter. A man in the khaki uniform of Animal Control sat in the office with a blood-soaked bandage on his forearm. Martha was in the vet's office, pulling out first aid supplies. She looked up when Shyanne entered.

"The wolfhound's back," Martha told her.

Shy froze. The wolfhound was David, which meant David hadn't made it to Maine.

"Goddamn beast should've been euthanized when it was brought in," the young man muttered.

"He hadn't bitten anyone yet," Martha said, reaching for a bottle of hydrogen peroxide. "Until he broke out, he hadn't done anything truly dangerous."

Shy couldn't breathe. This man had been bitten. David had bitten him.

That meant this man would turn into a werewolf.

Some other memory wiggled at the back of her brain. A bite or a scratch...

A woman about the same age as the man came out of the kennel area. "We should probably call the vet and see if he'll come down and administer the shot."

"Heath got scratched by that dog when they first brought him in," the man snapped, bringing Shy's memory to the forefront. "He's been out of work ever since. Says it's some kind of infection."

Shy dropped her bookbag and ran into the kennel. She fell to her knees outside David's pen.

"David?" Her voice broke as she said his name.

David's hairy gray form lay still in the shavings on the floor. His ribcage slowly moved up and down. There was blood around David's muzzle. He had been captured before he had made it to Maine, and now they would put him down, because he had bit that animal control officer.

Shy leaned against the chain linking, and listened to the argument in the office.

"I know, I know." Martha's voice conveyed defeat all the way down the aisle. "I just hate to see animals die."

If they tried to euthanize him, could he survive? She hadn't had time to talk to David, to conduct any experiments. Werewolves supposedly had accelerated healing powers. Maybe whatever was in the fatal shot wouldn't work on him.

It didn't seem likely, not if tranquilizers worked on him. They would double the dose, just to make sure it did work.

"I'll call Dr. Fleiss right away. I'm so sorry any of this happened..."

Shy glanced down the aisle toward the office. No one was paying attention to her. They thought the wolf was asleep, harmless. They would be more concerned with the officer who had been bitten.

Shy opened the pen and moved to David's side. "Wake up!" she whispered frantically.

The wolf didn't move.

"David! You have to wake up!" Her voice escalated. "They're going to try to kill you! David!"

The dog's eyes blinked open once, then fell shut. The sedative wouldn't last long, but it might last long enough for Dr. Fleiss to administer that final shot. "David! Please!"

"Shyanne?" Martha's voice.

Shy lifted her face from the wolfhound's gray fur and wiped the tears away.

"You know we have to put down any dogs that are dangerous," Martha said softly, putting a hand on her back. "He was vicious, when he attacked that man. You wouldn't have recognized him. What we saw on that first day was nothing compared to this."

And then Shy heard a car pull up to the front of the shelter. Could Dr. Fleiss be here already? Martha gave her shoulder a squeeze and left her.

"David! You have to get up, hurry!"

David's gray head lifted slightly, then dropped back to the ground.

"No! You have to leave, or they'll kill you!" Shy shook the wooly form with all her strength. He was too big, too heavy for her to lift.

The door to the office opened again, and Dr. Fleiss and Martha came down the hallway. Shy scrambled to her feet and opened the gate to the outdoor pen. Then she shook David again. "Come on, come on!" Her voice again became a harsh whisper.

But David remained still.

"He's still tranquilized, then?" Dr. Fleiss was saying as the two adults stopped before the large pen.

"Yes," Martha replied. She looked at Shy with pity. Shy glared back at her.

"You can't kill him! You can't!" she screamed at them.

"But we must," Dr. Fleiss said. He calmly put on a pair of latex gloves and took out a needle filled with a clear fluid.

"You know this, Shy," Martha said. "You might not like it, but that dog is dangerous and we have to. Perry had to go to the hospital to get stitches in his arm."

"Who the hell is Perry?" Shy cried. "Who cares about him? It wasn't David's fault—"

She choked when she realized she had called the wolfhound David. Martha looked at Shy, her eyes saying, Nervous breakdown.

"Let's go into the office, Shy," Martha said, stepping into the pen and leading her with the shoulders. "We'll go into the office. We can talk. Maybe I can call your dad to come pick you up?"

"He's gonna kill him!" Shy sobbed. But when she looked back, she saw David's eye wink open for just a second. Then the office door closed behind her.

Martha sat Shy down in a chair and handed her a box of tissues. "I'll call your parents to come and pick you up," Martha said.

Then several loud barks and growls tore up from the back area. Martha dropped the phone and ran into the kennel. Shy followed at her heels.

By the time they reached the end of the hallway, they found Dr. Fleiss unconscious in David's pen, his head against the metal framework. Martha bent to check for the vet's pulse. Shy, on the other hand, ran into the outdoor pen.

It was empty.

Her laugh echoed in the clear blue sky. David had escaped.