Blacktail

Chapter 7 The Fire of God #2

Now, in his final extremity, Chester had poured out the last shreds of those hopes.

He had eaten his last “sammich,” he realized, warmed his butt by his last fire.

Everything was ended but the ending. With that understanding came a perverse sort of comfort.

Now he had fallen away from himself. Now the hunger was ended.

Now he drifted in the darkness. Now he touched nothing but his memories and his prayer.

amen

ii

Chester felt the sun’s warmth fall away, as if a dark cloud had passed over. He opened one eye and saw an enormous black silhouette blocking the sun.

“Lord?” he croaked. “Is that you, lord?”

The shadow stood silent, impassive.

“You’ll have to wait a little, I think,” Chester said. “I may not be finished until tonight, or perhaps even tomorrow.”

Still the shadow said nothing, but only scented him about the neck and hips. Chester did not resist. In truth, he barely noticed.

“You have mistaken me for someone else.” The voice was quiet but somehow frightening, like the roar of a distant forest fire.

“Eh? You aren’t God?”

“No.”

“Perhaps the Puppy of Darkness?”

“No.”

“You’re sure?”

“Fairly sure, yes.”

“Then leave me.” Chester sighed and lay his head back down. “I’ve a bit of work left to do.”

“Hunting?”

Chester twitched his ears wryly. “Of a sort. One will surely die when I’m done, at any rate.”

“Hmm. If you’re to go hunting, you’ll need to keep your strength up. You should eat something.”

Chester almost laughed. But for some reason he didn’t.

The creature stood silent for a moment, watching him.

It stepped off the rock and circled around to the east, framed now by a cloudless blue sky.

Now he recognized it for a wolf—or wolfish, at any rate.

It was enormous, at least two times his own size.

Maybe three. The thing’s head dipped out of view for a moment.

Then it tossed a small body up onto the rock. Chester examined it.

It was Sliderpaw, his hateful joking mouth now silent and trailing a trickle of blood. Chester looked up, amazed.

“This one was to be my lunch. But you need a meal worse than I do, I think,” the stranger said. “Go on. Eat.”

Chester wasted no more words, but devoured the body.

He did not bother to pull off the meat, but bit directly through the fur and bones, crunching little bites between his back teeth, gnawing everything to a pulp.

When it was done, Sliderpaw lay in his stomach like a warm rock.

He felt a little better. He looked up at the stranger, wagged his tail.

“If you’re not God, you’ll do in a pinch. Who are you?”

“I am called Blacktail.”

“I’m Chester,” he said, now looking down the length of his body at Blacktail.

“Actually, I’m about half of Chester. Perhaps a bit less.

” He rolled over and strained to sit up.

His flesh hung loose on him, like the skin of rotting fruit.

He blinked again and scented Blacktail, interested despite himself.

“You smell of”—sniff, sniff—“the lands north of here? Other places as well. How far are you come?”

“Long and long,” Blacktail rumbled. “I honestly don’t remember anymore.” He paused. “Long.”

Chester sniffed again, then frowned. “If you don’t mind my asking…are you ill? Your scent is—”

“Think nothing of it. It is of no consequence.”

Chester looked at him for a moment, not understanding. “Whatever you say,” he said doubtfully. He twitched his tail in a weak attempt at a wag, dismissing the thought. “Well, welcome to the Starving Rocks. I, for one, am glad you made the trip.”

“Forgive me,” Blacktail said, “but I must ask. What manner of creature are you? Your mark smells of red wolf, but not entirely. You bear a two-legs name, but your paw and fur are wolfish. I can make no sense of it.”

“I am a half-breed,” Chester said. To his own surprise, the fur on the back of his neck rose a little bit. “My mother was a dog, but my father a wolf. Is that a problem for you?”

Blacktail snorted. “In these times, only fools talk of bloodlines,” he said. “Though in truth, those fools do go on.”

“Eh?”

“Nothing. I was trying to say that there are few enough of us left without worrying about purity. I myself am a half-breed, and my pups would have been as well.”

Chester’s ears perked up. “Oh? Your father was a wolf?”

“I never knew my father. My mother was the wolf.”

Chester took a shaky step over and scented the base of Blacktail’s tail.

“You do smell a little peculiar,” he allowed.

He said nothing else about the scent of illness, though it was strong and clear.

“Well, half-breed or no, you’re welcome here.

I’ve little to offer in the way of hospitality.

The stream back yonder is tasty, though. ”

“Kind of you to offer,” Blacktail said. “So you say these lands are called the Starving Rocks? That doesn’t sound good.”

“It’s not. This place might not be hell, but I think it’s just down the way.”

“Then why live here?”

Chester snorted. “Why do you think? I’ve nowhere else to go. Good lands are few and far between. No pack would have me as I am now. My mate is lost.”

“What mate? Does she not howl for you? Can you not follow the sound?”

“She does howl for me sometimes. I hear her in my dreams,” Chester said quietly. “But I will not follow. Not anymore.”

Blacktail wagged his tail. “Then you’re stuck here, I’d say.”

“So it seems.”

“What do you eat?”

Chester laughed bitterly. “Are you blind? I eat nothing. But the good news is, there’s plenty to go around. Help yourself if you like.”

“No squirrel?”

“A few, but they are very quick.”

“Yes, that’s true. What of bunnies?”

“I saw some when I first came here, but lately I lack the strength to chase them.”

“Deer?”

“None that I’ve seen.”

“Elk?”

“What is that?”

Blacktail was silent for a time. “You know, there is one animal in these rocks large enough to hunt.”

“Oh?”

“Oh yes.”

“And what is that?”

“Come with me tomorrow and I’ll show you.”

iii

The next morning Chester rose just after dawn.

Stretching himself, he scanned the jutting landscape of sandstone pillars dotted here and there with prickly pear, juniper, and ricegrass, all of it framed before a clear and cloudless sky.

Hiking his leg to pee, he thought, Hell is… well…sort of pretty this morning.

He felt amazingly good, all things considered. The little morsel of food had done wonders to restore his strength. He could now rise and move all on his own, though he was still a tad shaky on his feet. He wandered down to the creek and drank a huge mouthful. That helped some, too.

When he came back, Blacktail was awake. He watched Chester for a moment, saw that he was moving well enough, and set off at a slow trot without saying a word. After a moment Chester followed as best he was able.

Blacktail scented the wind, and Chester followed in kind.

He caught a whiff of prairie dog off to the north, and something larger to the west, but Blacktail surprised him by setting off to the east. Chester thought for a moment to say something.

If he were the same dog that had been abandoned three seasons ago, he no doubt would have.

But he had endured much since then. Not all of the lessons of his life had drifted by unnoticed.

This one lives in the same desert as you, but does not starve, Chester thought. Actually, he has food to give away. He held his silence.

In time they came to a little gravel plane, where Cars sometimes rested. This time he was unable to keep quiet.

“Lord Hunter?”

Blacktail swiveled his massive head around to look at Chester. He said nothing.

“If I may say, lord, you’ll not likely find good hunting here. It is a well-known place of men. Most of the desert creatures avoid it. They are afraid, you see.” This last was a small boast, as if to say that he, a worldly beast, had no such superstitions.

“They are right to be afraid,” Blacktail said, looking at Chester’s emaciated body and horribly scarred face. “Look at what the two-legs have done to you.”

Chester lay his ears back, ashamed. Blacktail walked a few steps more, then settled down in a small gully at the top of the ridge.

Chester followed, walking with his tail low.

He settled in next to Blacktail. He was on the verge of asking, “Why here?” when it came to him.

Here, he realized, we can see and not be seen.

“What now?” Chester asked.

“Now we wait.”

They sat in silence all that morning and part of the afternoon. The sun was hot on him, but Chester saw that Blacktail made no movement and so held his own stillness. A little past midday, Blacktail’s ears perked up. Not long after, Chester heard it, too. Car, he thought. A big one.

It raced up the dirt path, trailing a cloud of dust. Oh, hell, Chester thought. Everything with eyes will see that and go to their hiding place. The hunting’s done for today.

When it came to rest, it burped up a pair of the two-legs, a male and a female. They dug in its hindquarters and came out with two brightly colored bundles. After a certain amount of fussing and fiddling, they strapped the bundles to their backs and set off on foot into the Starving Rocks.

Blacktail waited until they were well out of sight, then turned to Chester. “I thought we’d see something like this if we waited long enough,” he said. “I sometimes see the two-legs in the wild places, walking alone or in pairs. You lived with them, no?”

“Yes.”

“Tell me, why do they come?” Blacktail asked. “They have no place in the desert.”

“I’m not sure. My two-legs and I never did this. Though you’re right, there’s always one or two of them about. I’ve, ah…been keeping my distance.”

“Hmm. That’s probably wise.”

“Perhaps they’re here to mark territory?” Chester said. “They don’t seem to hunt or really do anything. They just walk through.”

“They come a lot?”