It was just twilight when they turned off the main road and onto the narrow dirt lane.

"Are you sure about this, Napoleon?" Illya shifted to first and the car rumbled onto the road. "I think it needs to be graded. It's a washboard."

"Well, if there's anything loose, we'll soon find out." Napoleon began the slow processes of refolding the map. "This road should come out just a mile from the next town. I don't know about you, but the thought of a bed, a hot shower, and some food sounds pretty good at the moment."

"Seeing as how we spent the last three days held captive in a flooded mine shaft, I would agree." Illya stifled a sneeze. "I think I'm catching a cold on top of everything else."

"Even more reason." The woods seemed to close behind them as they drove and Napoleon could see fog gathering in small depressions. "We'll get in, call Waverly, and then tuck you in good and proper."

"How long is this road?" Illya turned on the headlights. Even though it was still light overhead, down here it was much darker and he didn't want to hit anything.

"Just a couple of miles." The car lurched sharply. "More or less."

"Why do I have a feeling you're referring to our suspension?"

The conversation died off, both men alone with their thoughts. It was Illya suddenly sitting up a bit straighter that alerted Napoleon.

"What's happening?"

"Someone coming up hard on our tail. We didn't leave any THRUSH alive, did we?"

"No, and even if we did, how would they have followed us?"

"No idea. Whoever it is is in a big hurry."

"Why do you say that?" Napoleon turned in his seat and hissed. The vehicle's lights bounced up and down as it hit the potholes in the road. Sparks exploded as the axles hit rocks. "Illya, my friend, you'd best get out of the way."

"I'm trying, but there aren't any turnouts and I don't relish getting caught in the underbrush."

"Better than being run down or driven over." The truck was nearly upon them. "Illya, NOW!"

Illya jerked the wheel to the left and the car bounced off the road and nearly into a drainage ditch. He got it into park and turned to shout at the truck, but there was nothing there. "It went past us? Where did it go?"

"I don't think so…"

Illya sneezed once and then again. He pulled his handkerchief from his pocket and blew his nose. "Some people should have their licenses revoked for reckless driving. I'm just glad we aren't in a ditch." Illya looked over his shoulder and slowly shook his head. "I'll get out and take a look…" Suddenly something hit his window and two red eyes were looking at him through the window. Illya jumped and, out of habit, slammed down the door lock. He reached behind and did the same thing to the backseat door on his side.

Napoleon yelled as his window was attacked. It was slightly down and the creature, a wolf, stuck his snout into the crack, snarling and salivating. Without hesitating, Napoleon rolled up the window and there was a yip as a nose was pinched.

Checking to make sure the other doors were locked, Napoleon pulled his weapon and waited. There was a thump on the roof and a scrabbling as if the wolf was trying to dig through the solid metal.

"Napoleon, look!" Illya pointed as indents appeared on the interior roof of the car. Yet another wolf leaped onto the hood of the car and Illya yelled an obscenity at him.

Slamming the car into gear, he took off, bouncing his way back onto the road. The minute he was up to speed, he shifted into second and then third.

"What the hell was that?" Napoleon was looked over his shoulder. "Illya, there's nothing there. You can slow down."

"Just as soon as I hit the main road and life again."

They limped into town by the time night had fallen. They parked in front of a small motel and both just sat quietly. It was as if they were afraid to get out of the car. A family of four walked past them, chatting and laughing, and the two men exchanged sheepish grins.

"We are going to have to do some fast talking to explain all of the damage to the car to Waverly." Napoleon climbed out as did Illya. Napoleon bent close to examine the roof of the car. There wasn't a scratch. He ran his hand over the smooth surface and shook his head slowly. "I don't understand."

"I need a drink and I don't mean coffee," Illya muttered as he slammed the car door and walked to a nearby tavern.

They were halfway through their second round and Illya signaled for another. The barkeeper wandered over to them and cleared the empty glasses.

"Two more of the same?"

"Yes, please."

"If you don't mind me asking, but are you two strangers?"

"We are. Just came over from Emilyville."

"Emilyville? There ain't no way to get from there to here except to take Crocker Lane and nobody 's fool enough to…" The bartender shook his head slowly. "You didn't take Crocker Lane, not at night?" There was a combination of awe and disbelief in his voice.

"Narrow little dirt road that looks like it closes behind you."

"That would be the one." The barkeeper put down two coasters in front of them. "These are on the house. Anyone who tangled with the demons of Crocker Lane deserves nothing less."

"What was all of that?"

"Well, the story goes that this guy was running bootleg whiskey and was being chased by the local police. He turned onto Crocker, hell-bent for leather, driving for all he was worth. It was night and he couldn't see worth a damn. I don't know if the truck hit a tree or it broke an axle or a combination of both, but he crashed the truck. He got out, I'm guessing to make a run for it, and was ripped to pieces by a pack of wild dogs or wolves, I can't remember which."

"They were wolves," Illya said, without infliction. "I remember seeing packs like that in Siberia. They could strip a man down to a skeleton in a matter of minutes."

"You two survived, my hat is off to you. Not many people are as lucky. There had been seven people killed on that road. I won't tell you how they were found. The thing that saved you was that you didn't get out of your car."

"We almost did." Napoleon glanced at Illya, who was coughing into his handkerchief. "We were saved by a nose

"But you didn't and that's what counted." The man moved away.

"Thank God for your cold." Napoleon sipped his scotch. "If you hadn't stopped to blow your nose, I have a feeling this evening might have ended a little differently."

"I suspect there is a reasonable explanation should one choose to pursue it." Illya finished his vodka and set down the glass. "I think I'd rather pursue that hot bath and a good night's sleep that we were discussing earlier."

They walked back to the car and Illya popped the trunk, pulling their suitcases from it. He started to carry his away and then paused. "Napoleon? Napoleon, what's wrong?"

The man was holding something between his fingers and he passed it over. "I found this in the passenger door window. What is it?"

Illya held the tuft of hair between his fingers. "I could be wrong, but it looks like wolf fur."

"Then that means..."

"Well, at least the hot bath will be nice." And Illya let the wind pluck the fur from his hand and carry it away into an uncaring night.