Marked in Flesh
Page 100

 Anne Bishop

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The train pulled into the station.
No passengers waiting to board. No station personnel in sight.
The young reporter disembarked with the rest of the newsmen. An odd silence filled the station, a silence that seemed to seep into his skin and awaken a primal understanding.
The newsmen left the station in a group, looking for a taxi or bus so they wouldn’t have to haul their equipment. What they found were cars in and around the streets, many parked haphazardly, as if the drivers had left the vehicles in a hurry.
No people walking. No music coming from radios or television programs drifting out of open windows.
Some stores were closed. Others had lights on and doors open.
A cameraman suddenly stopped and gasped, “Gods above and below.” He ran down an alley toward whatever he’d spotted, and the rest of the newsmen followed him to open land beyond the buildings.
The young reporter caught up to the others and stared at the mound of bodies. Young. Old. Some wearing the uniforms of their profession. Others wearing casual clothes. In front of the mound was another of those signs: WE LERNED FROM YU.
It’s the whole town, the reporter thought, feeling his gorge rise in response to hearing someone else throwing up. Something killed the whole town and piled the bodies to imitate the Wolf packs that were wiped out by the HFL, down to the last pup.
He shuddered. “They’re still here,” he whispered as he backed away, trying to look everywhere at once—and wondering if any of the humans in the town had seen what had killed them. “We have to get back to the train, have to get away. They’re still here.”
Cameramen shot a bit of footage. Newspaper reporters snapped digital photos. But the fear of the train pulling out of the station and leaving them behind snuffed out any desire to do a live report in a dead town.
As they hurried back to the train station, the young reporter heard a sound that might have been the wind in the nearby trees—or the sound of something laughing.
To: Tolya Sanguinati
Grandfather Erebus has decided that you will take control of the town of Bennett. Sanguinati from the Toland Courtyard are on their way to you now, along with a few of the Wolfgard who worked with you. Some of the terra indigene from Toland will join Stavros when he takes over the rule of Talulah Falls. The rest will head to the Midwest and Northwest regions to manage a few of the reclaimed towns that have railway depots. Those places are still of value to us.
Give this warning to the humans who helped save the Wolf pups at Prairie Gold: there is no safety in the dark.
—Vlad
To: Vladimir Sanguinati
Your message received and understood. I have considered what businesses are immediately necessary and will ask Jesse Walker for her recommendations. While having some Wolfgard in Bennett as one kind of enforcer would be beneficial, ask some of the Toland Wolves to come to the terra indigene settlement at Prairie Gold. The pack’s nanny is the only surviving adult Wolf there, and someone needs to teach the juveniles how to hunt. Much bison meat has already been cached, so the youngsters can be fed for some time, but the Intuits, no matter how well intentioned, cannot teach young Wolves all they need to know.
Also, all the humans who ran the ranches between Prairie Gold and Bennett were killed. Most of the fences that divided the land were torn up and are now fearsome balls of barbed wire and posts. Tobias Walker tells me the beef cattle can manage on their own for the summer, but there are other animals that require tending, including the ones in town that humans kept as pets and the working animals on the ranches. We are doing what we can, but there are not enough of us to care for that many animals as well as handle so many other tasks. Would the Elders allow some humans—Intuits or Simple Life folk, preferably—to come to Bennett under the Sanguinati’s supervision to deal with such things?
—Tolya
CHAPTER 42
Thaisday, Juin 28
Meg tried not to hover while Henry measured the drawer where she wanted to keep the prophecy card box.
“You’ll want handles to lift the box out of the drawer without catching your fingers,” Henry said.
“Okay.” She hadn’t considered the mechanics of lifting the box. “I would like a lock. With a key. Two keys.”
The Grizzly gave her a long look. “We can get a lock and keys.”
“It doesn’t have to be a fancy box.”
Another long look. “You’ll take what I make.”
“I just meant . . .” Something, not a prickle or a buzz, whispered across her skin. This wasn’t a prophecy or vision. This was a flash of understanding. Despite—or perhaps because of—the turmoil going on throughout Thaisia, Henry wasn’t working on his sculptures, but he needed something to occupy his time when he had to stay in human form to help Simon. “Thank you. Umm . . . Ruth and Merri Lee said there should be a fabric lining. They’re going to look at information on tarot and fortune-telling cards to see if the box is supposed to have a certain kind of fabric, and then they’ll check with the seamstress and tailor to find out what might be available.”
“Tell them to talk to me about the size I’ll need.” Henry thought for a moment. “No, I’ll talk to Ruth. The Business Association has other things to discuss with her.”
“She’s not in trouble, is she?” Meg couldn’t think of anything Ruth—or Merri Lee or Theral, for that matter—could have done that might upset the Business Association.
“No one in the female pack is in trouble. At least, not with us.” Henry closed the drawer and came over to stand beside her. “No more packages arrived that we should know about? You would tell us if there were?”