5.
St. Nazaire, France: 1917
Rifles crack and wood shattered as dozens of bullets tore through the make-shift targets. Standing some yards away are the Marines as they pull back on the action bolt and discharged brass rounds before inserting a new bullet.
After about thirty seconds of nonstop shooting and reloading, Gunnery Sergeant Cotter blew a high pitch whistle and shouted "Cease fire! Cease fire!"
The Marines flick on the safeties and steps away from the shooting range.
"Very good Marines," Captain Huxley comments as he watches from the sideline, "go get some chow and some sack time."
Out of the corner of his eye, Kyle sees Dublin getting ready to salute when he bumps into the small soldier on purpose, messing up his action but they still say, "Yes sir," in complete unison. There is no saluting in combat zones, not only will it be a hassle to perform the act, but in doing so you also make your commanding Officer a target.
Slowly the Marines turn and leave the small training field that they have erected for themselves. St. Nazaire is more of a crossroads section than a forward operating base. Here they meet almost every soldier from every corner of the globe; British, African, French, and countless other warriors. The large stoned city is a staging area for the Americans as they make ready for their Europe campaign, however, one of the Marine's ships has fallen behind, resulting in the Fifth Marine Division now having to wait for them to catch up. It's even more frustrating because even if they do get here then they have to practice with their rifles for some time to refurnish their skills. Until then, all that the currently residing Marines can do is sit and wait with nothing to do. The city is pretty much deserted with the exception of a few residents, mostly men who had sent all their women away to temporarily housing some miles away from the settlement, all of whom were wary of the soldiers coming through, a sad disappointment to the Marines. The only people walking around are priests, nuns, doctors, nurses, and volunteer citizens as they try to help in any way that they can.
There are also some troopers present, however, most of them are wounded to the point of being unable to fight, in other words, they are missing limbs. The soldiers in their different colored uniforms look the same, the hard but empty stares they give the Americans while they gently care for their amputated parts.
There is no secret here, they despise the U.S. The famous continent to have never lost a war has denied helping their allies in their time of need. They even seem to agree with the Marines in wanting to send them to the front immediately so that they can win the war as quickly as possible. They sneer at the Americans as they practice their shooting and continue their initial training, all of them saying "it's useless," "a waste of time," "accuracy with a gun is nothing compared to the machines of modern warfare." Despite this, the Skipper continues to push them to achieve "perfection." The most dangerous weapon in the known world, after all, is a Marine and his weapon.
With nothing much to do, Kyle and his two friends break off from the main group and approach the tent that they are all sharing. The courtyard they are in was large enough to house their company, but it looks more like a refugee camp rather than a military one. Laundry lines suspend between the tent poles, utensils and personal possessions litter the entrance of the shelter and a smell is starting to develop, tempting people to cover their noses. Aside from that though, it was actually quite tidy and neat compared to the rest of the town.
Kyle carefully places his gun against the entrance and collapses heavily onto the ground. Dublin sits opposite of Kyle while Eric remains standing with his rifle still in hand.
"Another day, another dime," Kyle says as he tries to get a conversation going.
Eric merely grunts before saying, "They are paying us to fight in a war, not to shoot at empty bottles and mannequins."
"Well this isn't so bad," Dublin finally speaks up, "after all you saw how the French and English soldiers looked."
They try their best not to think of the bloodied, mutilated people who are sitting just outside the courtyard, waiting for a ride to get them away from the conflict. They can still hear some moaning and cries of pain.
"This is what we signed up for," Kyle ventures softly.
"It's finally sunk in for me," whimpers Dublin.
It's obvious that Dublin is frightened and Kyle doesn't blame him, but his situation is different from Kyle and Eric's. They volunteered, but Dublin was practically pushed into service by his father, who thought it was his son's Christian duty to fight the invading Huns and to defend their fellow man.
"Why are they called Huns in the first place?" Kyle finally says out loud, "Aren't Huns like Chinese or something?"
Eric shrugs, "something to do with them being invading barbarians or something like that."
Before Dublin could put in his own word they hear a loud voice calling out names, but it doesn't belong to one of their Sergeants or the Skipper.
"Spalding! Eric Spalding!"
Eric raises his hand, "Here!"
A soldier strides towards them and hands Eric a letter before shuffling off again. Messages from home are considered sacred, Kyle didn't really like his homeland in Oklahoma, but it is the only place he had. Besides anything at the moment, even a tax bill, something from his country, would be a welcoming sight.
Kyle has only received one letter from his father. It was stained and heavily stunk of liquor while the words could barely pass for being legible. Scribbled down were the words: be careful.
Oh, how nice it is to have a caring family.
"Dublin! O. Dublin!"
Kyle tries not to sulk when Oliver was handed his own letter, looking giddy all the while as he tore the envelope open like a kid during Christmas.
Eric has finished reading his letter and reports, "one of our cattle's calves was attacked by a coyote, it was saved but its leg is mangled, we're not sure yet how it is going to do, if it's not going to recover then they may have to put it down."
Dublin glances up with a horrid expression on his face. The city boy wasn't accustomed to such fate befalling innocent animals. But that's the fate when there is no way of healing a farm animal, especially out in the desert where being lame could mean death through starvation, dehydration, or being eaten alive. Sometimes just putting down livestock is seen as being more humane considering the other options. Though Kyle's family has never owned so much as a dog, they were still surrounded by farmers and watched their fair share of crippled animals being put out of their misery.
Kyle was in the process of thinking of something comforting to say to Dublin when he hears something surprising.
"Shames! Kyle Shames!"
Kyle was momentarily stunned for a moment before he stands up and says, "Here!"
The soldier makes his way back to the squad of Marines, hands Kyle a letter and leaves.
Kyle doesn't even look at the address. He just rips the letter open and reads what was within.
Dear Kyle, how are you doing brother?
Still can't believe you're way down there while I am way up here. Life on the sea is good, just like fishing; only in this game the fish can kill you if you're not careful. Been protecting the harbors and transport ships traveling to England, nothing much to report, looks like we have the Kaiser's Navy on the run.
We have yet to have so much as leave to the mainland, but I did meet a skirt who gave me a quick kiss, she may be something worth looking into. You may have liked this life you crazy kid, plenty of things to do, and far from danger while being paid well.
What's it like on land? Met any French girls yet? Make sure you tell them you have a brother, there are rumors that our captain, a slippery and fun-loving devil himself, may secure us a pass to Paris if he can, maybe I'll see you then. I need to go, let me know how you are doing and keep your head down; this is nothing but another brawl, only this time it is on Wilson's Street, not Main.
Sincerely Tom
Kyle couldn't help but chuckle and shake his head. Looks like his brother is having fun while providing his duty at the same time, he would have made a good Marine if he wanted to-
"Hey!"
They all look up in time to see a guy about their age, eighteen or twenty, running up to them, Eran if Kyle can remember correctly.
"We just got wind of this," he says in a rather loud voice, getting the attention of other nearby Marines, "The U.S.S Hancock is just a few miles offshore, once it gets here, the whole Regiment will be here."
With that, the young messager turns and takes off running to another group, leaving the squad of Marines to themselves. Nobody said it, but they are all thinking about it.
They are all here now; it won't be long and then they will really be getting into this war.
Nome Alaska: 1925
"Can you pull your own weight?"
The old dock master, simply known as Joel to the people, already knows the answer though. If the boy could survive the war, then he can make it in the simple life of a warehouse worker.
The job is tough and challenging for a number of reasons. There is the weather that can be cold and severe but must be ignored as the workers do their job. There is the cargo that can be heavy, fragile, or combustible, one drop is all that will be needed to doom any hope of being paid. Then there is the loading of supplies off and onto ships, the constant pitches of the sea could throw a person into a cold icy grave. Finally, there is the worker themselves, working under these extreme conditions can make men as tough as vinegar and just as sour.
Kyle pays these thoughts little mind as he shrugs, "No problem."
The man nods his head, "any work experience and a good reference or two?"
"Well," Kyle thought for a moment, "I served in the military, but that's about it, this will be my first real job."
Normally the dockmaster would prefer men familiar with this trade, but he can tell Kyle can probably take the strain, the young bucks always can. Plus Joel is short of hands at the moment so any help can be appreciated.
"Very well then Mr. Shames, you've got a job," with that, Joel offers his large rough hand.
"Thanks," Kyle simply says as he takes the hand, "boss."
The man smirks, "alright," he glances out his window and takes note of the orange skies, "you can start tomorrow, nine o'clock," he looks back at him, "try and be early will you?"
"Not unless you cook me breakfast," Kyle says as he stands from his seat and moves to the door.
"I'll promise you one cold egg," Joel says in answer.
"I prefer two," smiles Kyle before he exits and closes the door as Joel's thick chuckle follows him.
Kyle walks down the stairs and breathes in the deep cool air as he reaches the bottom and closes his eyes to savor the moment. The air tastes nice here, the mix of a forest and the ocean that he is just a few paces away gives him a feeling of unbelievable bliss; perhaps it's the wolf within him loving nature.
He opens his eyes and lazily observes the sun. He better get home quick and ready for his "date" with Aleu. He wonders how that will go, she obviously has spirit and a fighting heart, the potential for either a great ally or a dangerous enemy. She thinks of her pack first, if he does anything out of line she could be onto him within moments and have what could well be a good force of wolves at her call. He needs to play out his next few moves carefully otherwise it could be the end of him, dogs are one thing, but wolves are easily a whole different breed of animals. They kill on a day to day basis, ridding their land of a large invading wolf won't be more than a chore to them.
A flash of movement catches his eye and he looks up just in time to see a dark four-legged animal scurry behind a house. Was it one of Aleu's wolves checking up on him? No, he's getting paranoid now, there is no way a wolf could just wander into town. It must have been a dog.
He sighs in exasperation. He doesn't want to fight, but if push comes to shove then he will hold his ground. But what is taking the canine community so long to attack though, normally at least one dog would have tried to attack him by now. Are they planning something big? This cannot bode well for him.
"You are certain this is what you saw?" Balto questions Bernard.
The small mutt nods his head, "Yes, I'm sure."
"This is disturbing," the Labrador named Doc says, "and quite unusual," he ponders for a moment before looking up at the assembled dogs in the warehouse, "Has anyone ever seen a large black animal before? In the woods or close to town?"
Everyone shook their heads, even the adventurous pups are wearing an honest face as they answer in the negative.
Balto shakes his own head and starts pacing.
"Could it have been a bear?" One voice asks, "now that it's getting cold again, some of the polar bears are coming back into the area."
Balto couldn't help but smile to himself as he makes a mental note to warn Boris of Muk and Luk's immediate return.
The mutt who has been watching this strange newcomer's home since sun up, reports, "I don't think so, it didn't look bulky like a bear, polar or grizzly, its lean frame made it look like…like a wolf or something."
At this, the gathered crowd unconsciously glances at Balto for a moment before they look away. Despite the fact that they now trust him and see him as a hero of the town, the age-long controversy held towards wolves is still held.
Balto pays them no mind though as he thinks for a moment before saying, "It can't be a wolf, the only wolves close by is Aleu's pack and they have more than enough sense to stay away from Nome."
"True," Doc says, "but let us not forget what Bernard said," the Labrador refers to the indicated mutt, "a creature that is as long as a winter cat and as tall as a Great Dane."
"And more muscle than a bulldog," Bernard puts in.
"You can't be serious," a husky voices, "First it was a human who smells and growls like a wolf, now you are saying some sort of monster is taking up residence in the man's house?"
"It does seem a little too credible…" muse Balto, "but let's not rule it out since we do not know what it is we are facing exactly."
"But what are we facing?" a nervous feminine voice calls out.
Balto opens his jaw but closes it after a while. What can he say, they don't have the answers yet, it's all just a mystery to them so far.
"Something…supernatural," Doc finally steps up.
"Are you kidding me?" the same dubious husky says again, "Doc, I thought you were supposed to be the voice of reason here."
"This goes to show," sighs the Labrador, "whatever this thing is it is not of the known world."
An unsettling silence befalls them. Whenever there is a threat to their humans, the dogs would always band together to try and figure out how to solve it. If it's a cold winter, they help collect wood to keep the people warm. If there is a predator on the prowl, they would chase it away or stand as sentries to their owner's homes. They even help feed and supply the people by participating in the sled runs. Yet in this case, they have no idea what to do.
"Why don't we just sound the alarm," a dog in the back suggests, "we just start barking whenever this man comes along. Surely our humans will notice something then."
"That won't do much," Jenna finally voices from her place as she lies next to the boiler, "it'll just give the man sympathy, I don't know why, but when my human walked and talked with him, it…it was almost as if he held Kyle in awe."
This is the first time Jenna has given details to her encounter and they jump upon it.
"Maybe the humans do know," Balto wonders, "but they are just afraid to act against Kyle."
"Or maybe he is famous among them for something," another voices.
"The war," all the dogs turn their attention to young Taylor, the very Husky who had first reported Kyle's appearance. "Just like my human," he elaborates, "people show him respect and kindness, despite his sometimes rough attitude, for fighting in that thing they call war…what is war anyway?"
"It is a terrible thing," Doc sighs, "when humans gather into large packs that can tally to over ten thousand and sometimes more, where they battle each other for many reasons, territories, food, or for plain status." He meets the eye of everyone in the room before concluding, "And this last war I heard my human speak of, it is considered the most devastating in all of history."
"So…Taylor's human and Kyle both fought in it?" asks a small dog.
"From the sound of it yes," concludes Doc.
"Now that I think about it," Jenna says, "my human was talking to Kyle about him meeting Taylor's human and talking to better…something, almost as if Kyle is pained by something."
"Well he's going to be in pain," Taylor growls as he gnashes his teeth, "if he comes anywhere near my human."
"Now that's the most sensible thing I have heard so far," an eager hound says as he steps forward, "we already agree that this Kyle is a threat, I say we go and take the fight to him and be done with it."
"I'm for that," a husky stands, "we'll either chase him out of town or kill him where he stands, who's with me?"
There are cheers of approval and exhilaration as the dogs jump to their feet, scratching the ground in anticipation, practice working their jaws, and filling the room with enough growls to shake the walls.
Balto, however, shoots in front of the quickly forming mob, "Wait! Stop! Hold it!"
The dogs cease their growling so they can hear him, but they are still standing at the ready to fight.
"This won't solve anything, don't you remember the whole reason we are worried about Kyle?" Balto demands, "it's because we all agreed he is dangerous," Balto answers his own question, "he has the musk of a wolf, the growl of a grizzly and the resilience of a wolverine; he has been trained in the arms of a man to the point where he can defend himself from humans, so him fending off a couple of dogs will be of little challenge to him."
Slowly the blood lust melts from the canines as they consider Balto's point.
"There is also this new creature to take into consideration," reasons Balto, "going to fight a creature that we never have seen before won't help much either. Until we know what we are facing we must not attack or risk losing lives."
By this time the fervent dogs have calmed themselves and with heavy puffs of air they settle back down, annoyed, but also slightly ashamed for having to be reasoned with such obvious logic as if they were nothing more than pups.
"Well said Balto," Doc says as he steps up next to the hybrid, "if we are to decide what to do next, we must monitor what this beast is like and how it is we can bring it down."
Doc then calls out "Bernard!" during the brief chaos the little mutt had been lost in the crowd, "Bernard!"
"Here," the small dog breaks through the wall of canine and trots to the front.
"Bernard," Doc starts off more softly, "what happened after you spotted the creature? Did the human Kyle look alarmed?"
The mutt shrugs, "I don't know, when I saw that thing coming I ran behind some bushes and hid from a distance…I…I'm not sure what I saw next, but it looked like the thing reached the structure before raising one of its paws and opened the window. It crawled in right before sun-up."
"Wait," someone calls out, "how could this creature open the window with its paw?"
The mutt shakes his head, "I don't know, like I said it just reached up and slid the bottom portion of the window up and went in."
"That's not possible…is it?" an uncertain dog asks, to which only an uncertain mummer answers him.
"Not unless the creature doesn't have a paw," speculates Balto, stunning the room. What kind of mixed-up beast is this?
"What else Bernard?" Doc questions, "Did Kyle scream, or yell, or did anything when the creature came in?"
"No, I didn't see him at first," the mutt recounts, "a minute or two after the thing entered, I saw him stand up and just stood there like he is in deep thought."
"Stood up…" Balto says silently to himself, "Like he was rising from bed?"
"Maybe," Bernard says.
"How could anyone not notice something that huge entering his home?!" someone explodes in the back, earning the curious glances of his companions. The dog shrinks a bit and mumbles an apology.
"Good guess Sam," Balto says, making the indicated dog feel better, "either the creature disappeared once it was inside or Kyle did see it and paid it no mind…maybe that's his animal companion."
"If it is, then believe me, it was no dog," Bernard says.
"Good to know," Doc says, "did you see it again any time after that?"
"No," answers Bernard, "I waited until Kyle left his home and Ralph started to tail him. After that, I went up to his shelter and looked through his window. Whatever the creature was, it's not in the building."
"What was in the building though?" Balto questions next.
"Not much," the mutt recounts, "just his bag, a blanket, and a stove."
"No gun?" questions a still eager looking husky.
"There are more ways to kill then with a gun," Balto says, looking pointedly at the spoken dog, "besides, if he does have a weapon, then he may have hidden it."
"When did he leave?" Jenna suddenly asks.
The mutt thinks for a moment, "an hour ago I think."
"What was he doing until then?" Jenna questions next.
"Sleeping from the looks of it," Bernard answers.
Balto suddenly steps back in, "This may indicate he was awake last night because it certainly doesn't sound like he is a lazy person," he looks at Bernard, "what was he doing that night?"
"Nothing," Bernard answers, "he didn't do a thing when I got there."
"Did you see him before dawn?" Balto asks next.
"No…I…didn't see him at all now that you mention it…" Bernard trails off as he thought this through.
"Balto," a voice calls out, "are you trying to get at something here?"
"Yes I am," the hybrid answers, "I'm wondering if this human was out at night."
"That's impossible," Bernard claims, "I watched one side of the house while Ralph watched the other side, nobody left, nobody entered."
"When did you get there?" Jenna asks.
"…Right after the moon went up," Bernard answers.
Balto soon starts pacing again as he thinks through the facts. A human who acts and smells of a wolf. A creature that emerged from the forest that resembled a wolf but was too large and possibly mutated from that of a normal creature of nature. Kyle wasn't seen until after the creature entered his home, but the creature itself disappeared as it has done so…what does all of this mean?
He releases a growl of frustration, "This just gives us more questions than answers."
"Too true," Doc agrees, "we need more information before we can come to some form of conclusion on what we should do."
"We already have dogs watching him, what more can we do?" Balto asks.
Doc is silent before saying, "do you think Aleu could be of some use?"
Jenna leaps to her feet and growls, "No! Absolutely not!"
Doc turns to her, "but Jenna-"
"No," continues the husky, "when I was with Kyle he threatened her and the rest of the wolves, said he knows how to handle them, it sounds as if killing wolves is nothing to him."
"Yes," Doc says slowly, "but I didn't want her or her pack to engage Kyle, just this creature, just to see if they can stalk it if it goes into the woods and see what it is that this creature does and if it has any link with Kyle."
Balto sighs, "Doc, she's our daughter and-"
"And if she was here she would be arguing with you," Doc says, causing some canines to chuckle among themselves, knowing how true that statement is.
Balto didn't say anything. This is his baby, he didn't want anything to happen to her, but at the same time he wanted, no, he needed to know what this creature is and how to approach it.
Finally, he sighs, "I'll talk to her about it."
"Balto," Jenna turns towards him, "I don't want our daughter to be in danger."
"Neither do I," he says to his mate, "but we-"
He is interrupted when a Rottweiler comes charging in, huffing and puffing.
"Ralph!" exclaims Doc, "what is it?"
"Th-th-that thing," Ralph gasps out, "got a…a job at…the shore."
"At the shore," Balto repeats and thinks for only a moment, "that means he is now either a fisher or is now working as a dockhand."
"Dock's hand be my best guess," Doc says, "considering it's no longer fishing season."
"Maybe we'll get lucky," a voice says, "maybe he'll slip on the pier and drown."
Balto suppresses a shiver as he remembers the time he nearly drowned during his first adventure, the stinging cold, the burning lungs, and the hopelessness of watching the warm sun slip away through transparent ice. He forces the painful memory away before he turns back to Ralph, "Where is he now?"
"Heading home I guess," Ralph says.
Balto suddenly stiffens, "What time is it?" he asks in an urgent voice.
One of the dogs on the upper landings looks out her window, "the sun is going down."
Balto suddenly shoots forward towards the door.
"Where are you going?" Doc calls out.
Balto pauses at the door for a moment to shout over his shoulder, "to see what we are dealing with," before he races out the door.
Maybe this is a bad idea, Aleu thinks to herself as she walks back and forth.
She is at the edge of Nome, waiting for Eran to show up so she can give him a "tour." She figures she can show him the areas where he could hunt and claim as his own territory; that would be a good show of friendship, wouldn't it?
More importantly, she will show him the border to her pack's land and maybe learn more about him.
Nervousness doesn't even come close to describe how she is feeling. Her earlier talk with the Betas didn't help either. Sitka and his tips on how to make a quick kill, Kila telling her where the best hiding places are, and Nuju and his bloody red star reminding her to be careful. All three of them wanted to come as well, but Aleu figures this would make things worse seeing how skittish Eran is when he first made contact with her, how will he react when she appears with three additional wolves who are willing to fight?
Besides, she needs them to watch over the pack, if the worst does happen, then she knows they will be in good hands. Aside from her Betas, nobody knows she is here, they have just gone off to their dens to sleep, believing this to be a normal night just like any other. For her though, it could be a matter of life and death.
She exhales slowly, reminding herself why she is doing this. She would much rather have Eran as an ally rather than an enemy. She also wants to help him feel better, to feel welcomed, she knows first-hand what it feels like when the world seems to be against you and there appears to be no place for you. She has no idea why she would want to help though, perhaps she feels sorry for him, but there is definitely something drawing her to him. Her curiosity maybe, she wants to know what he is, where did he come from, and if there is more like him.
Generally, she would like to have him as an ally, but maybe, if he allows it, they could actually become friends.
Friends with an oversized wolf who has social issues…why not?
She sits on her rear and glances up at the moon above her. It looks beautiful tonight, no wonder she and the other wolves pay it respect. It is a glorious thing to be held in wonder; it gives light to the dark, a majestic view in the shadows, and a presence that seems almost spiritual as if it is alive as well.
"You're here."
She jumps when she hears the voice. It was soft, but the fact that she didn't hear or see the speaker approach, much less smell him, is what startles her.
She whirls around and sees that it is indeed Eran, who is standing a few paces away from her. She feels relieved to see him on all fours; his large frame and limbs of a man are shocking enough, she isn't sure if she could remain focused if he is standing on his hind legs.
His black fur glows with the sheen of the moon, his eyes blaze a bright flame as he stares down at her. She would like to think of herself to be the size of an average-sized wolf, but she feels mighty minuscular compared to Eran.
"Done staring?"
She quickly looks away, berating herself for gazing at him too long.
"Sorry," she says, "it's just; well…you're quite a sight I guess," she finishes with a hopeful grin.
She feels relief flood through her when the corner of his mouth lifts a little with the faintest hint of a smile.
"So I've been told," he says in reply.
They grow silent before Aleu coughs and says, "Well…shall we go?" She turns in the direction she plans on taking him, bowing her head slightly as she does so.
He observes the she-wolf as if trying to decide whether he should go or not before walking towards her. She feels her heart leap in her chest when he comes astride with her, his large muscular chest nearly touching her side, his heavy and unusual scent fills her nostrils while his bright eyes mystify her a little.
"Lead the way," he simply says.