SUNDAY
The next morning, Shadow pushed his way out of Peter's room before anyone else was up. It was hard to move, but he was determined. The stairs, which had never seemed much of an obstacle before, now seemed nearly insurmountable. He took the steps one at a time, stopping for breath about halfway down before taking the last of them at a limping crawl.
The glass from the broken window was still everywhere, and Shadow tread very carefully on his way to the sill. He climbed out, landing heavily on his left foreleg. It was weak, and he rolled onto his uninjured shoulder. He quickly got to his feet and went about the business he'd come outside for.
"Shadow? Is that you?" Chance stuck his head out of the dog house, "What are you doing out here?"
"Same as you," Shadow replied in a soothing voice, "Now be quiet or you'll wake the kids and Sassy."
"Not to mention Jim and Tracy," Chance muttered, sitting down.
"You can't wake up someone who isn't asleep, Chance," Shadow retorted.
Chance fell silent for a moment, puzzling over this. Shadow, meanwhile, followed the trail the creature had left the night before, sniffing at it as though he hadn't been there last night, as if the information of the trail was wholly new to him.
"I would have noticed if Tracy went jogging," Chance said finally.
"She didn't go jogging," Shadow threw over his shoulder, "Can you see the tracks from where you are?"
Chance got up and walked stiffly from the dog house. He paused to stretch, wincing at the pain in his side, then dragged to the end of his chain, straining to see what it was Shadow wanted him to look at.
"No," Chance sighed finally, "All I can see are shoe prints."
"Yes, Chance. Just shoe prints," Shadow woofed approvingly, "But what about them?"
"Well..." Chance paused uncertainly, "That one looks... um..." he swallowed hard, "chewed."
"Exactly," Shadow wagged his tail, seeming mysteriously pleased.
"You chewed Tracy's shoe yesterday," Chance observed, before it finally dawned on him, "Tracy wasn't out here last night. She hasn't been outside since she sent me out, and she wasn't wearing her shoes then. Are you saying... that... that."
"Yes. Tracy is our killer," Shadow confirmed.
"But the glowy eyes, and the teeth and the claws and the scent and... and... and... the roaring! That wasn't a human that attacked us last night."
"No," Shadow said, "But now I'm sure of who it is."
"Who what is?"
"The Evening Wolf."
"That was not a wolf," Chance asserted.
"You don't even know what a wolf is," Shadow pointed out.
"Maybe not, but a wolf is an animal, right? And that thing wasn't an animal, you said it yourself."
"And neither is the Evening Wolf," Shadow explained, "The Evening Wolf isn't a wolf at all. Do you know what a mutt is, Chance?"
"Sure, it's a dog that isn't purebred... isn't it?"
"The Evening Wolf is like that, to put it in simple terms," Shadow said.
"Simple is good," Chance said, "I like simple."
"Only instead of being a mix of two breeds," Shadow went on as if Chance hadn't interrupted, "the Evening Wolf is a mix of two species. It is a thing which has no place in nature, which defies all of the Natural Laws, as well as the rules of humankind. It's an abomination."
"A bomb a... what now?"
"A very bad thing," Shadow rephrased.
"What's that got to do with Tracy? She's human, at least she was last I checked."
Chance wasn't kidding. Aside from the other things he learned when he smelled anyone the first time he met them, he learned what they were. He could tell a human from a dog and a cat from a squirrel without close inspection, though he liked to do one, just to be sure.
"The Evening Wolf is unlike anything else. It changes its scent and shape, at will."
"But Tracy's nice to us, the thing wants to kill us," Chance protested.
"That's because the Evening Wolf is of two kinds. One is human, the other wolfen. When the two collide, that is when you have your killer."
"I don't get it," Chance sighed.
"You will, one day," Shadow told him, "It is given to every dog to understand the dangers lurking in the dark, so that they may protect their humans from harm. But it's something that takes time to discover."
"So what do we do?"
"I already told you," Shadow said, "We have to protect the family, at any cost. Now we know the Evening Wolf by name, and know that it cannot be driven away. So we'll have to kill it."
"Kill? But... but... but that's Tracy! She's... family," Chance yelped in protest.
"Not anymore," Shadow growled harshly, "The Evening Wolf must not be allowed to survive to nightfall."
"What? Why not?"
"Because tonight's a full moon," Shadow replied.
"So?"
"The Evening Wolf will be stronger than ever before. All traces of humanity, and wolf, will be wiped away, along with any thought or emotion the Evening Wolf might be capable of. All except for blood lust, the desire to kill. Especially to kill things which remind it of what it once was."
"Humans," Chance guessed.
"Yes."
"Can't we do anything to save her? Anything at all?"
"I'm afraid not," Shadow replied, "But it's worse than that."
"Worse?" Chance whined, beginning to pant, "How could anything be worse?"
"Jim wasn't here last night. Still isn't. He knows what Tracy is. He's a fool if he thinks he can hide what she's become forever. A bigger fool if he thinks he's safe from her. She'll kill him too, given the chance. It's only a matter of time."
"Shadow! Shadow!" Peter's voice came from inside the house. "where are you, boy? Shadow!"
Shadow barked and made his slow and painful way to the back porch. It seemed to Chance that he was struggling to get up the stairs, but trying not to show it. Shadow might not be saying it, but he'd taken a beating last night, and some of his wounds didn't show on the surface.
"Shadow, you shouldn't be outside, boy," Peter told the old dog, after opening the door for him.
Chance returned to the dog house and lay down. A short time later, he saw Uncle Jim and Aunt Tracy emerging from the woods. He stood up stiffly and growled. Halfway out of the dog house, he halted. They didn't know that he knew. Now wasn't the time. Not while he was tied up and Shadow was locked up inside. It would take both of them together, that much he knew from the experience last night. And not bumbling around, either. They had to work together.
He stayed where he was, staring warily at the approaching people as if they were strangers to him. They walked right past without noticing him and went into the house.
"What happened to the window?" Tracy asked Hope as they entered the house.
"Chance broke it," Hope replied, not looking up from dishing out Sassy's breakfast, "Jamie tried to wake you last night, but you wouldn't wake up and your door was locked."
"Oh, that's because Chance got in yesterday and chewed one of my shoes," Tracy said, "I'm sorry, dear. What happened?"
"Chance attacked Shadow," Peter said, breaking into the conversation, "He's tied up outside now. I think we need to take Shadow to the vet," he glanced down, where Shadow was walking at an obedient heel, "I think he could be really hurt."
"The vet's closed on the weekend," Jim said, "But they'll be open on Monday, when your parents get home. You can take him then. Until then, you should probably keep him inside as much as possible, and keep him still. And definitely keep Chance tied up so he can't cause anymore trouble."
He knelt down and called Shadow over. At encouragement from Peter, Shadow went to him. But where he would once have wagged his tail at sight of this long-familiar family member, he now kept his tail lowered and there was no show of friendliness in his eyes. He met Jim's eyes as he approached. He had no shame in doing so. Jim was no longer welcome here in Shadow's eyes. Not after what he'd done.
"You know, don't ya, boy?" Jim whispered to the dog, too quietly for anyone else to hear, "You saw it, didn't you? And now you know there's nothing you can do about it."
Strangely, Shadow understood every word. Maybe it was the eye contact, or the clear guilt written on the man's face. For whatever reason, Shadow knew exactly what he'd said. His response was plain in the slight curl of his lip, which showed the barest tips of his fangs.
"There's no reason to be like that," Tracy said, kneeling down beside Jim, her arm on his shoulder.
The kids were oblivious, going about their morning routine as always. Shadow glared at her.
"Why protect something that isn't your own kind?" Tracy asked, "Why defend what is not yours?"
In response, Shadow's lip curled further, showing more of his teeth. He began to struggle in Jim's grip, not violently, but insistently. Jim held him fast. He not only understood the words Tracy spoke as though they were said in his own tongue, he could read their undertones. The meaning behind them.
"You're no fool, Shadow," Tracy went on, "I know you, I've seen that brain working behind your eyes. You're not just any dog. You know more than most. And you know that there's nothing you can do to stop the coming of the moon. Fall under its sway. Let yourself go. I can show you pleasures you've never dreamed of, freedom you've never known."
Shadow barked and lunged back, breaking loose. Face still twisted into a furious snarl, the old dog backed away until he was under the dining room table, where he remained, fur bristling, eyes bright and curved fangs showing to their yellowed roots.
"What was that?" Peter asked, coming in from the kitchen, "I thought I heard Shadow bark."
"Oh, he just wanted me to let him out," Jim said nonchalantly, "He barked when I wouldn't open the door for him."
Shadow, having recovered himself, walked dutifully to Peter's side, positioning his body protectively between the boy and the invaders of his home. He didn't snarl at them again, showed no outward signs of aggression, not in front of Peter. But he stared up at them, not looking away when they stared back.
He saw in their eyes declaration of war. And they saw in his acceptance of that. Tracy looked at him, mildly surprised to see no hesitance in his steady gaze. There was something almost eager about him. As if he'd learned nothing the night before, had no idea that he stood no chance.
Sassy, meanwhile, had finished up her breakfast and scooted outside. She didn't intend to be left out of the action. If the battle was to be waged in her own living room, she had every intention of being a part of it. But she knew who the muscle in the fight would be.
"Sassy, what are you doing out here," Chance asked, looking up as the cat jumped down from the porch railing onto the roof of his dog house.
"Shadow filled me in," Sassy replied.
"So you should really be in the house," Chance said, "Knowing what's in there. With Hope."
"Shadow's keeping an eye on them. He says that we've got time," Sassy told him, "Now hold still and I'll see what I can do about your situation."
Cooperatively, Chance lay down and held still while the talented cat grabbed, clawed, chewed and pawed at his collar and the head of the chain. Anyone who says there's nothing more stubborn than a bulldog has never witnessed the persistence of a determined cat. Sassy soon abandoned work on the head of the chain, focusing her energies on the collar buckle. It was a heavy leather thing, easy to work for a human perhaps, but not so for an animal lacking in opposable thumbs. However, Sassy would not be easily discouraged.
She was briefly interrupted by Jamie bringing Chance's breakfast to him. Jim came out too, and they looked over the cut on Chance's side. They cleaned it and doctored it up, while Sassy looked down from the roof. She wasn't concerned about being noticed, as she had nothing to hide. However, she couldn't be caught in the act of trying to untie Chance. And she had no interest in being any closer to Jim than she had to be. Not knowing what she now knew.
Once Jamie and Uncle Jim went back in the house, Sassy climbed back down and set to work with more enthusiasm than before. For a time she made little progress, as Chance gulped down his breakfast. But then the big dog settled onto his side and let her work in peace.