26. No Echidna is an Island: Chapter 8: Waiting

by NetRaptor1

Chapter 8: Waiting
_______________________________________________________________________

The Chaotix left to find Ralph, who had offered to loan them some books on detective work. Slasher
wanted to stick around Mori's house in case Talon needed her, so Knuckles and Zephyer took the
teleporter home by themselves.

The Floating Island seemed silent and empty after the bustle of Blackguard, and Knuckles and
Zephyer missed Talon. They said nothing about it to each other. Zephyer went hunting for the chao,
who had left a note saying they had gone on a safari. Knuckles went off by himself to unwind and
watch the sun set.

He returned to the house after dark. He found Zephyer in the living room with his old electricity
meter on the floor. She looked up as he entered. "Oh good, you're back."

"Find the chao?" she asked, walking up and looking at the batteries, wires and light bulbs Zephyer
had collected.

"Yeah," said Zephyer. "They were mad at us for being gone all day. I fed them dinner and they're in
their room."

"What are you doing?" Knuckles asked, gesturing to the electrical apparatus.

She smiled. "I wanted to try to measure our eye-charge thing."

Knuckles sat down across from her and picked up one of the wires connected to the meter. "These
are positive and negative. If we hold either end, won't we fry each other?"

"We do anyway," said Zephyer. "I'll hold the negative end, it suits me."

Knuckles nodded and tried not to smile. "Okay, but if this blows up my meter, you're buying me a
new one."

"Sounds fair," said Zephyer. "Think about ... uh ..."

"Blowing up the meter," said Knuckles, grinning. They locked eyes and the electric pulse jumped
between them. The meter's needle bounced to twenty volts.

"Hah!" said Zephyer. "It worked!"

"We've had stronger jolts than that," said Knuckles. "Think about Talon."

The needle indicated seventy volts. Knuckles gazed at it. "It must be chaos energy manifesting as
electricity."

"We could use it as a weapon!" said Zephyer. "Imagine if we had our swords, and the armor, and
this electric thing, too!"

"We have to control it, first," said Knuckles. "Think about the Master Emerald."

The meter sprang to five hundred volts, and Knuckles and Zephyer yelled and dropped the wires. "Dang!"
said Zephyer, shaking her hand. "Try to kill me, why don't you!"

Knuckles rubbed his fingers. "This was your idea, bright girl."

"Oh, so it's my fault?"

"Yeah it is." Their eyes met, electricity flashed between them, and the meter indicated one hundred and thirty volts.

"Look!" said Knuckles. "It picked up without us touching the wires!"

"Just don't think about the Master Emerald," said Zephyer. "That's too dangerous."

"It must be when our thoughts are in tune," said Knuckles. "When we think close to the same thing,
there's a low charge. When we think exactly the same thing, it's a strong charge."

"What are you guys doing?" said Chimera, peeking over the back of the couch.

"Electrocuting each other," said Knuckles. "Want to watch?"

"Yeah!" Chimera slid down onto the couch cushions, followed by Zinc, and the chao looked on expectantly.

Knuckles picked up the wires Zephyer had collected, wound them around a lightbulb, and he and
Zephyer tried to light it. The chao watched in glee as the lightbulb flickered on and off, and the
echidnas flinched over and over. Out of curiosity they tried thinking about the Master Emerald
again, and the lightbulb exploded.

"Well," said Knuckles, sweeping up the glass with his hands, "we can conclusively say that the
Master Emerald is dangerous."

"I've burned my hand twice now," said Zephyer. "Maybe we should quit."

"No, don't!" said Zinc. "This is fun to watch!"

"But painful to do," said Zephyer. She glanced at the clock. "Good grief, it's after nine! You two had
better go to bed."

"Aw man!" said Chimera. "Are you guys gonna be gone all day tomorrow?"

"No," said Knuckles. "A social worker is coming tomorrow to inspect our living quarters."

Zephyer looked at him in horror. "Oh my gosh, I forgot about that! Do you know how dirty this
house is?"

Knuckles glanced around the living room. "Looks okay to me."

"It's filthy! First thing in the morning I'm gonna do some serious cleaning." She pointed at the chao.
"You. Bed. Now."

"We'd better turn in, too," said Knuckles, collecting the apparatus. "I have to pick up the inspector at
eleven."

"Eleven!" Zephyer exclaimed. "I knew I should have cleaned house today!"

The next morning Knuckles awoke before sunrise, and Zephyer was already up. He smelled
detergent and heard her banging around the house, and pulled his pillow over his head with a groan.
But it was too noisy now that he was awake, and he climbed out of bed and ventured out of his
room.

Zephyer was on her hands and knees, mopping the kitchen floor, her dreadlocks tied back in a rag.
She looked up when her husband looked in. "Hi Knux! Don't come in, the floor's wet."

"When did you get up?" Knuckles asked. The kitchen was spotless.

"Four," said Zephyer, scrubbing. "Could you sweep the hall so I can mop it?"

"Uh, sure." Knuckles went in search of a broom, bewildered at how easily Zephyer could turn his
life upside down.

At seven Knuckles balked and demanded breakfast, and Zephyer took a break. They ate on the
porch, sitting on the railing. Zephyer was enjoying her cleaning streak, and chattered to Knuckles
while he nodded and grunted now and then. Then she dove back indoors, leaving Knuckles alone on
the porch, looking out over the island. He sat there for a while, enjoying the silence and aware of the
clatters and bangs coming from inside the house.

He ventured back inside to find Zephyer having a showdown with Chimera. The dragon chao was
standing in the middle of the living room, a scowl on his face. "I won't clean my room!" he
exclaimed. "Zinc made the mess, tell him to do it!"

"I told you both to clean it," said Zephyer, hands on her hips. "You live in there, too."

"But he's the one who built the fort!"

Knuckles stepped into the room and looked at his chao. "Do you need a spanking?"

"No," said Chimera, frowning.

"Then do as she says. Now." When Chimera didn't move, Knuckles began counting. "One, two,
three ..."

Chimera broke on 'two' and bolted for his room. As he entered, they heard Zinc say, "See? You have
to help clean up, ha ha!"

"Zinc!" Zephyer called, and his mocking subsided. "I'm going to come in and check your work!" she
added. She looked at Knuckles. "Will we get in trouble for spanking chao?"

"I don't know," said Knuckles. "Probably not something to discuss in mixed company."

"Yeah. Hey, want to help me in here?"

"Actually, I was going to ... uh ... mow the lawn," said Knuckles.

Zephyer shrugged. "Okay." She grabbed her floor cleaner and rag, and Knuckles made a quick exit
out the back door.

He hadn't planned on mowing the lawn, but he had two hours until he had to pick up the inspector,
and it was better than letting Zephyer boss him around. He opened the little toolshed that adjoined
the house and pulled out his lawnmower. It was one of his early robotics experiments when he first
became interested in mechanical engineering. Once it had been pushed about twenty feet, the gears
and springs had stored enough energy that the mower drove itself. He had tinkered with another
model that was fuelled by a lesser power crystal, but it wasn't working yet.

Knuckles mowed the front and back yards, dumped the clippings on a compost pile, and went
indoors to clean up. The house smelled fresh, and the floors sparkled. The windows were open, and
he found Zephyer in the chao's room, cleaning out from under their crib. Knuckles hardly ever
ventured in there, for the converted closet was a disaster area, but Zephyer had returned a semblance
of order to it. Zinc and Chimera were playing with toys unearthed from the geologic layers on the
floor, and looked up as he stepped in.

"Zephyer needs to clean our room more often!" said Chimera.

"After this, you two will clean your own room," said Zephyer, sitting up with her face flushed. "Hi
Knux."

"You're brave," he told her.

She grinned. "And going to be exhausted."

"It's ten thirty," he said. "I'm going to wash up and pick up the inspector."

"Good grief, already?" said Zephyer. "I'm almost done in here, go ahead."

When Knuckles left, Zephyer finished the chao's room like a whirlwind, and ran for her room to
change clothes. She selected a blue dress, combed out her dreadlocks, and fastened ornamental clips
around them. By the time her grooming was finished it was almost eleven, and she caught Zinc and
Chimera and washed their faces and hands. She warned them to be on their best behaviour, then took
up watching by the front windows, looking toward the teleporter receiver plate.

* * *

"This book says you have to take classes and stuff to get a private detective license," said Vector.

He and the Chaotix were sprawled in the back room of Ralph's office, each of them reading a
different book on being a detective.

Mighty looked up. "You mean we'd have to go back to school?"

"That's what this says," said Vector, waving Becoming a Private Detective for Morons.

"Mine, too," said Espio, who was a fast reader and halfway through So You Want To Be A
Detective. "This says you need to work with the local police force, too."

"Makes sense," said Mighty. "That's where you'd get your clients."

"How about you, Charmy?" asked Vector. "What are you learning?"

The bee was sitting in the windowsill, engrossed in his book. "Oh, this is great!" he said, not hearing
a word they had said. "There's these three guys who are detectives, and their secret base is inside a
trailer in a junkyard, and they're solving a mystery with this haunted castle ..."

"A novel?" said Vector in disgust. "You're supposed to be doing research!"

Charmy turned a page and didn't answer.

"When do you think Ralph will be done?" said Espio, checking his watch. "He's been in there an
hour now."

"Developing pictures takes a while," said Mighty. "Especially when you have as much film as he
does. He had fifty-six exposures on that roll."

"Fifty-six?" spluttered Vector. "I didn't know they went that high!"

"He's using a Hidepalm," said Mighty, who knew the ins and outs of cameras. "The rolls of film for
those things are huge. Maybe if we get into this detective business, I can afford one."

Espio checked his watch again. "I hope he hurries up."

"Got another date?" grinned Vector.

"Yep," said the chameleon smugly. "And wouldn't you like to know the particulars."

"Don't make me go detective on you," said Vector.

"Oh, you'll find out eventually," said Espio, waving a hand. "I just have a ... a parallel agenda right
now. You'll thank me when you find out."

The Chaotix exchanged glances. Espio rarely did anything praiseworthy.

Suddenly Ralph screamed a swearword from the next room.

The Chaotix jumped up and ran to the darkroom door. "What? What's the matter?"

"Must be a good picture," muttered Espio.

"Are you okay?" Vector called.

"Fine," came the irritated reply. "It startled me is all. Stand back, I'll show you." The door opened
and Ralph emerged, carrying a paper still damp with chemicals. He handed it to Vector and the
Chaotix looked at it.

At first they couldn't tell what it was. Then they realized the camera was looking through a window
high up, angled down toward the floor. Highlighted by the flash was a face, peering upwards. It
looked cat-like, with a feline nose and mouth, but there were too many eyes and no ears.

"That's it!" said Espio. "The thing I saw! And boy, isn't it WRONG?"

Looking at it, Vector saw it as a cat, then an insect--then he tried to reconcile the two, and his brain
twisted. That thing was not possible. The others muttered in disbelief and squinted, trying to believe
their eyes. The longer Vector looked at it, the more he noticed. The eyes were multi-faceted like a
fly's. Mandibles protruded from the sides of the jaws. The horns might be antennae. A black shadow
outlined it from the flash, hiding the rest of its body.

Vector tore his eyes away and handed the picture to Mighty. "That's what made Slasher snap?"

"Yes, and I see why," said Ralph. "It gave me quite a turn, myself, when it came through on the
print. I've got to rush this to Howe. Genetic experimentation and mutation are forbidden by
Blackguard law."

The Chaotix grinned and punched their fists in the air. "Talon is as good as free!"

"Not quite," said Ralph, "but this helps the case a lot. If you'll excuse me, I'm going to make half a
dozen prints of this picture." He returned to the darkroom.

Vector checked his watch. "Knux said not to call until after two. He'll be vastly interested in this
picture."

"And so will a lot of other people," said Charmy. "Like the police."

* * *

The social worker who inspected the echidnas' house was an electric blue bird with a long beak. He
carried a clipboard in his prehensile wingtips and wandered around the house, taking notes. Zephyer
and Knuckles awaited him nervously in the living room. The bird had asked to show himself around
the house, and Zephyer was thankful she had cleaned it.

At last he returned to them. "You have a lovely home," he told them. "It checks out nicely. A mark
in your favor is the ownership of chao, and big, healthy chao at that. How long have you had them?"

"About six months," said Knuckles. "We raised them from eggs and had them two years, then the
Chao Company reclaimed them. We recently adopted them for good."

The bird nodded. "This study is not conducted to approve your house--it's really to confirm the
environment in which a child will be raised."

"How long will the approval process take, Mr. Honeycreeper?" Zephyer asked.

The bird cocked an eye at her. "Please, call me Bill."

Zephyer looked at his two-foot long beak and side-eyed Knuckles. Electricity tingled between them,
and they tried to keep from laughing. Bill appeared not to notice. "There is a small problem you may
have in the process, and that is locating a child of the appropriate species. Echidnas are very rare."

"We know," said Knuckles. "We're prepared to adopt outside our species."

Bill looked at his clipboard. "Well, you see," he said, "we at Orphan Aid try to discourage
extra-species adoption. Sometimes an improper match can result in disaster. We had a sad case
several years ago when two parrots took in a civet kitten. When the kitten was three she mauled her
adoptive mother."

"We don't want a kid THAT far from our species," said Knuckles. "Anteaters and echidnas are
distant relatives, aren't they?"

"Only by the greatest stretch of the imagination," said Bill. "Echidnas are unlike any other
mammal."

"The anteater we're trying to adopt has a lot in common with us," said Zephyer, bristling.

"It doesn't matter," said Knuckles, glaring at Zephyer to shut her up. They didn't need a fight with
the social worker. "The point is, we're trying to adopt an anteater. He ran away from his home and
has lived with us for three years. We get along with him very well."

"We'll look into the matter," said Bill, writing something down. "As it is doubtful that there are any
echidna children available for adoption, we will consider your request."

The rest of the interview was uneventful, and afterwards Knuckles escorted Bill back to the
teleporter. When he returned, he found Zephyer sprawled on the couch, eyes closed.

"Are you asleep?" he asked, leaning on the back of the couch.

"No," she said, opening her eyes. "Just exhausted. Do you think that went well?"

"Bill was friendly," said Knuckles. "I don't think he'll blacklist us, if that's what you mean."

Zephyer sat up and began taking the clips out of her dreadlocks. "I hadn't thought about education
when he asked about it. How'd you think of a tutor?"

"Talon's been tutored off and on by the Chaotix," said Knuckles. "And I've drilled so much stuff into
the poor kid's head that he's worthy to be any guardian's kid."

"That comment about echidnas being rare," said Zephyer. "I doubt they've even heard of echidnas
before us, let alone seen any."

Knuckles opened his mouth to reply, but froze as they heard a distant buzzing sound.

"Your com," said Zephyer.

Knuckles ran to their room, snatched the com off the dresser and flicked it on. "Hello?"

"Heya boss," Vector drawled. "Ralph got his Slasher-photos developed, and boy oh boy."

"Are they good?"

"You have to see 'em to believe 'em. You should have heard Ralph swear when he saw it."

"Slasher called it an abomination."

"Oh yeah, Knux, it's abominable, that's for sure. It's like--it has too many eyes. I'll have to show you
the picture."

"Have you called Howe?"

"Yeah, Ralph took the photo to her himself. It's not exactly concrete evidence, but it gives us
something to go on."

"Can you bring us a picture right now?"

"Sure. But if Slasher's around, don't let her see it."

"Gotcha."

"Vector out."

Knuckles clicked off the com and returned to Zephyer. "They got a picture of the thing."

Zephyer's eyes widened. "What is it?"

"Vector's bringing up a picture now," said Knuckles. "They've already given it to Howe. Now all we
need are the results of that hypodermic."

Vector appeared fifteen minutes later with an envelope in one hand. He found Knuckles and Zephyer
waiting for him, and watched their faces as they pulled out the picture. For a second they looked
blank. Then Knuckles frowned and looked closer, and Zephyer squinted. "What IS that?"

An expression of disbelief crossed Knuckles's face, then revulsion. Vector grinned, recognizing the
progression: first uncertainty, then disbelief, then horror.

"We've got to get Talon out of there," said Zephyer. "Does he know about this thing?"

"Espio warned him," said Vector. "If the kid wasn't so tight-lipped we'd know if he's seen it."

Knuckles checked his watch. "I'm going to call Howe."

* * *

Talon opened his eyes. He had been asleep, and dreamed a python was squeezing him to death. He
lifted his head and saw the chain was resting across his back. He slid out from under it and looked
around the basement. Mori was gone and the basement door was open. From the look of the light,
Talon guessed it was late Sunday afternoon. The air in the basement was cool, but the concrete
under him was warm, conducting heat from the scorching day outside.

Talon was thirsty, for his uncle had fed him four hours earlier, but the pride of the character he was
playing kept him from asking for a drink. This was a battle of wills between himself and Uncle
Pendel, and the alter-Talon intended to win. The normal Talon was shocked at this, but decided it
didn't hurt. One more night down here and it would be Monday, and he would be freed. Even the
torture of school was better than sitting in a corner with a chain around his neck.

The anteater stood up and inched forward so the chain would not clank. He had not had a chance to
stretch the chain, and he wanted to see how far he could go. He looked at the pile of parts that had
been his communicator--Mori had reduced it to bare components. The whistle was lying on the table,
far out of reach.

Talon reached the first table and was almost to the second when the chain halted him. He began a
circle, exploring everything in his range of motion. One of the tables within his reach was stacked
with notebooks and binders, each labelled with a number and a letter. Talon looked at the open
basement door and wondered if his uncle could hear him. Who cares, said the character he was
playing. He grabbed a binder marked 54B and flipped it open.

The first hundred pages were nothing but text and computations. Beyond that were diagrams of
DNA strands and molecules. In the very back Talon found a detailed sketch of a spider's leg with its
parts labelled.

He replaced the binder with a quick glance at the doorway, and opened another binder, 56B. More
text and equations. The diagrams this time were of insect body parts; legs, thoraxes, heads,
abdomens, stingers, antennae. Talon shut that binder and replaced it, too. He picked up 57A, opened
it, and stared into the face of the monster in the barn.

It was drawn in pencil from the front and side, and on later pages its body was illustrated in detail.
Talon shut the binder after two pages, the fur on his back standing up. So that was what Espio had
seen. A monster to end all monsters. He was chained with its chain ... so where was it now?

He darted back to his corner and curled up, his role-playing forgotten. He had to tell somebody. But
how could he call Knuckles without a communicator? Maybe the Chaotix were still outside and he
could tell them. But what if they needed that binder for evidence? He imagined his uncle's face if he
was caught stealing the binder, and Talon felt a chill. Instant death.

Mori returned to the basement and looked sharply at Talon. Talon stared at the wall. He hoped Mori
didn't notice the binders had been moved. He kept thinking of the monster on the page--like some
fantastic thing from a movie. But this was real. He glanced at his uncle and remembered the night
something had talked tapping through the house. A wave of sick fear hit him, and he willed himself
to show no emotion.

Slowly he pulled himself back into the role of angry half-wild pre-teen and wore the character like a
shield. There was nothing to fear right now. If he could last this out, then he would have a chance to
escape later.

* * *

Howe was sitting in her office, looking at Ralph's photo and chewing a manicured claw when her
phone-light flashed. She picked it up. "Hello, Ann Howe of Dewey, Cheetum and Howe."

"This is Knuckles Echidna," said Knuckles. "Have you seen that picture?"

"Looking at it," said the ferret. "I can nail him on ten different charges, and that's without
concentrating. Has the boy had any contact with it?"

"Not that we know of, but Slasher--the raptor--she's seen it twice now. She won't talk about it, it
makes her crazy."

Howe gazed at the picture. "We need more to go on. Mori has covered his tracks far too well up to
this point. Do you have any grounds for a complaint to child protective services?"

"No, other than Talon hates living there," said Knuckles. "He got beat up at school by bullies."

"I can't use that." Howe opened the binder on her desk. "Once those lab results come back, we'll be
able to move. Friday?"

"Friday. And if we can't get Talon out of there legally, I'm going to kidnap him."

"I wouldn't advise that."

"I know." Knuckles sighed. "I'll call back later."

"Goodbye." Howe hung up and placed the photo in the file. Then she left her office and snaked
down the hall to Cheetum's office.

The rat was studying a legal brief when she entered. "Howe goes? Ha ha."

"Funny," said the ferret. "The Mori case is stalled. I need more information."

"Say no more," said Cheetum. He pulled a slim folder from a desk drawer and handed it to her.
"Dewey's research team compiled this and delivered it this morning. Mori's financial records."

Howe opened the file and her eyes widened. Inside were pages and pages of receipts from off-island
suppliers; chemicals, biotoxins, genetic material, and highly illegal harvested body parts. In addition
were hundreds of laboratory equipment items. Everything was paid from a stock exchange account
and was listed as liquid assets. It was purchased under the name John Otter, but was shipped to
Mori's residence. Howe didn't ask how the research team had found these records--they were not
known as dishonest lawyers for nothing.

Cheetum was watching her. "Does that help?"

"Yes," said Howe. "Conviction will be easy. But we need a catalyst, a reason to go after him in the
first place." She checked her watch and sighed. "Friday."

* * *

Monday morning, Talon awoke to find his uncle unlocking the chain. He didn't speak, and neither
did Talon. Talon's plan was to flag down whoever was watching the house and beg them to take him
away before the school bus came. But Mori counteracted this by escorting Talon to the bus himself,
and watching Talon get on. Then Talon was on his own with no hope of escape--to escape he had to
use his shoes, and flying anywhere near school made him a target for the bird and bat classes.

He arrived at Happy Mobian Academy and shuffled inside with the others. He received his maroon
armband and followed the rest of his class outdoors.

A teacher met them and pointed them toward Mountain Environment. As the class ran off down the
path, Talon's spirits rose a little. Mountain was better than Jungle because there was less cover, and
you could see the predators coming.

Their instructor this week was a badger with thickly-muscled forearms. "Listen up!" he bellowed.
"You Antelopes are in Mountain this week, and to survive in the mountains, you need flexibility,
cunning, and balance! You're teamed against Eagle and Wolf, so you'll need to watch the sky as well
as your back. Travel in small groups--predators pick off the loners. Go!" The kids ran for the rocks.

Mountain was formed by a volcanic outcropping about thirty feet high, on the edge of the forest.
Additional rocks and gravel had been piled around its base, creating a dangerous playground for
predators and prey alike. Talon ran for the boulders, looking for the Eagle class.

A group of avian Mobians were perched on the 'mountain' top, watching the other classes come in.
He counted two macaws, a tern, four gulls and a trogon. They weren't predators, but were expected
to behave like it and attack other kids on the ground. What usually happened were broken wings and
injured legs, and hence the Eagle group received low grades and seldom attacked anyone.

Talon was more concerned about the Wolf class. They were made up of real predators--dogs,
wolves, jackals, hyenas, and they took hunting seriously. The best way to escape them was to climb
the mountain, so Talon began picking his way through the rocks in that direction, alert to every
sound.

He glanced over his shoulder just as a wolf's gray face peered around a boulder. It was the same
wolf who had helped beat him up on the day of the test, and Talon broke into a run, ducking
between the rocks. "A loner!" he heard one of them yell. He glanced back and saw the same three
wolves were after him, their eyes gleaming and animal.

Adrenaline gave Talon extra speed, and he leaped up the steep hill at the mountain's foot. He heard
them scrabbling after him, and jumped for a ledge he knew about. He caught it, pulled himself
up--and found himself nose to nose with the three ringleaders of Antelope. The kangaroo was
nearest, and with a smile he reached out and shoved Talon backwards off the ledge.

Talon twisted in midair to land on his feet, only to be tackled by the wolves, who gnawed him as
they all toppled down the rocky hill.

They abandoned Talon at the bottom with yells of "Sissy!" and worse words. He lay on the ground
with blood oozing from their bites and tears running from his eyes. He didn't want to do this. He
couldn't win. It was madness.

Slowly he picked himself up and limped off in each of a better hiding place.

* * *

Mori was waiting for him when he got off the bus. By this time Talon's fur was matted with dried
blood, and he limped from a deep slash on his left thigh. Mori grunted and escorted him indoors.

On the roof, Slasher spoke into her communicator. "Talon had a rough day! He's all chewed up and
bloody."

"Bloody!" exploded Zephyer on the other end of the line. "What do you mean, 'bloody'?"

"He looked like some animal's been chewing on him," said Slasher. "What kind of school does he go
to, anyway?"

"I think it's time we found out," snarled Zephyer. "Those lab results better be good, because I'm
going to start chopping heads."

"Only a few more days," said the raptor. "Then we can all pitch in."

* * *

Tuesday was just as bad. Again Mori escorted Talon outside, looking suspiciously around the yard.
Again Talon rode the bus without hope of escape, and again faced Mountain, this time sore and
unable to run as fast.

The same three wolves hunted him all day long. It seemed the tall, yellow-eyed leader wanted to kill
Talon slowly, one wound at a time, and he didn't consider his day complete until he had drawn fresh
blood.

Wednesday was the same. Talon arrived home that afternoon in tears, but trying to hold them back
so his uncle wouldn't see. The islanders could only watch helplessly--Mori kept close watch on
Talon so they couldn't make contact with him. He didn't use his communicator, and Slasher was
puzzled that Talon didn't use the whistle. Maybe it wasn't safe to venture inside the house.

Thursday, the wolf went for Talon's throat, and his sidekicks had to pull him off, scared and looking
over their shoulders for teachers. All kinds of violence was allowed in school, but not deliberate
attempts to kill. Talon arrived home later silent and trembling, still feeling the wolf's hot jaws
closing around his neck.

But on Friday, things changed.

This story archived at: The Domain of NetRaptor

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