"Let's go, come on!" a very impatient Steele shouted, pulling the rest of the ream one by one to their feet inside the roadhouse, "We're heading out!"
"Steele, it's only been two hours; we need more rest!" a half-asleep Nikki protested to him. Steele paid him no heed, racing over to Kaasen's sleeping bag on the floor and barking right in his face, waking him up. "What, what's going on, Steele?" he asked his lead dog drowsily. Steele grabbed hold of his sleeve and pulled him out of the bag as an answer.
"Steele, it's still the dead of night, and it's still sixty below out there!" Kaltag tried to reason with him, wobbling on his feet in exhaustion, "We can wait a bit longer...!"
"I told all of you, we're going for the all-time speed record on this run, and we're going to get it. Now get outside and get harnessed up!" Steele ordered him and the rest of the dogs, "Anyone not ready to go in one minute stays behind!"
He seized the antitoxin box in his jaws and dragged it roughly across the floor towards the door. "What's gotten into your leader there?" the perplexed roadhouse owner asked Kaasen.
"Guess he's ready to go again already. So guess we'll be going a bit earlier," Kaasen conceded, yawning.
"I wouldn't do it, Mr. Kaasen. It's still abnormally cold out there, and it's snowing pretty good," the roadhouse owner tried to dissuade him, glancing at the blinding snow outside. Steele, though, had already pulled to the serum into the sled's basket and was racing for the front of the harnesses, barking impatiently. "Looks like I don't have much of a choice," Kaasen shrugged, zipping his coat up. "Come on, team, let's go," he told the rest of the dogs, who sighed and reluctantly trudged out into the snow, where Kaasen harnessed them up. The instant the last dog was in place, Steele immediately took off up the trail. "Whoa, Steele, hold up!" Kaasen dove for the basket and quickly lashed the serum down as best he could. "Be careful out there, please," the roadhouse owner shouted after him.
"Is it just me, or is it even colder!?" Jet called to the rest of the team, gasping to keep up with Steele's insane pace.
"I think so," Star shouted back, shivering hard, "How far to the next roadhouse!?"
"About thirty more miles, I think," Kaltag surmised, "Although at this speed, we'll hopefully get there really quick-if we stay on the trail," he glanced worriedly around. For visibility was almost zero around them.
"Well we know we're heading in the right direction," Blackie added as the team veered to the left, "Just keep heading west, and..."
"Hold it, wasn't that the really big rock back there that we passed before Tolovana going the other way?" Nikki spoke up, glancing backwards through the thick curtain of snow, "I could swear I just saw it, and if it was, we probably should have gone the other way..."
"You sure?" Star looked worried.
"I think so."
"Steele, I think we should have gone right back there," Star called to the lead dog, "Maybe we should turn around..."
"I'm taking a shortcut," Steele snapped without turning around, "We'll be at the next roadhouse fifteen minutes sooner."
"Are you sure, Steele? I don't know of any shortcuts on this part of the trail..."
Steele finally slid to a stop. "Listen to me real good!" he glared murderously in Star's face, "I have traveled all over this territory the last few years. I know every inch of every trail in Alaska, especially the shortcuts. I know the fastest way back, and I'm taking it no matter what. So unless you want to be hurled off this team and left behind, just shut up and keep running. Understood!?"
"L-L-Lead on, fearless leader," Star gulped fearfully. With another growl, Steele turned ahead once more and took off again, dragging much of the rest of the team with him. "I hope he knows what he's doing," Star confided in the rest of the team, stumbling to keep up with Steele's pace.
"Steele knows what he's doing," Bear reiterated, "We'll be at the next roadhouse before we know it."
A scraping sound awoke Balto from his slumber in the ship's wheelhouse. He rose up and frowned. What could that be at this hour? The scraping came again, and it seemed to be coming from the starboard side, by the waterline. Balto walked over and glanced over the side. Through the blinding snow that was now falling, he could just make out a form on the ice-a surprisingly familiar form...
"Can I help you?" he frowned in confusion. For one of the wolves from Amarok's pack stood on the ice below. This wolf was of a lighter shade of gray that many of his contemporaries in the pack, as least as far as Balto could recall from the unpleasant encounter. And he had a guilty look on his face. "It's Balto, isn't it?" the wolf said, "I can't speak for the rest of my packmates, but I do want to say, I'm sorry for everything they did to you and that medicine before. I didn't agree with them smashing it at all."
"Well, I appreciate it," Balto told him, "You are?"
"Sila's my name," the wolf told him, "I can't stay long; Amarok and the others will be looking for me, but I just wanted to let you know, I wish things had been different."
"What's going on, Balto?" a sleepy Boris stumbled over the railing himself.
"This is Sila, Boris," Balto introduced the wolf to the snow goose, "He came all this way to apologize for what happened on the way back from Candle." He looked back down to Sila, "Why didn't you say anything then?"
"No one says no to Amarok," Sila shook his head, "I understand that his father ruled the pack absolutely when he was in charge, and now Amarok does the same. No one's allowed to disagree with him. I don't think that's how a pack should be run..."
"Neither do I," Balto agreed, "Especially when the leader's mission seems to be hurt everyone he thinks deserves it."
"I don't think I'm the only one in the pack who feels that way, but Amarok and the older wolves are too strong and have too strong a hold on the pack," Sila lamented, "I wish we could do things differently, that we could live in harmony with the humans." He glanced towards Nome. "It's really bad here, isn't it?"
"A lot of people are dying. Including lots of kids," Balto told him grimly, "I really hoped to get the medicine I had through. Do you know of any other towns that might have anything...?"
"No. We don't come near humans unless Amarok wants to attack them," Sila muttered, "I heard there was a sled going for medicine, though. I hope it makes it through."
"So do I. There's..."
"Sila! Sila, where are you at!?" came an impatient growl in the distance. Sila turned and sighed. "I'd better get going before they see me with you," he told Balto, "But I did want to tell you, I'm sorry about what happened. Keep trying if you want to help this town. Maybe that can start the way for humans and wolves to live in harmony here in the North."
"Sila!" came the shout again. Sila took off across the ice in its direction. "Well, it's good to know they're not all a bad pack," Balto confided in Boris, "I hope he and the others who are more reasonable can stand up to Amarok one of these days."
"Well, here's hoping. I'm going back to sleep, then. You coming?" Boris asked, waddling back towards the cabin.
"Guess so," Balto started to follow-then stopped, as he could hear the wolves' voices through the howling wind from far away. "...just was...was circling around to the far end of town to see what it was like there," Sila was explaining himself to the rest of the pack.
"Good. Just don't get too close to the humans while we're here," came the old gray wolf's voice, "Head to the rear." After a pause, he could be heard saying, "Won't be too much longer now, will it Amarok?"
"No," the leader of the pack said darkly, "Diphtheria works quick, that's for sure. We'll watch this town from the hills from here on. The deaths'll come really quick at this rate. And when they're dying fast enough, Umaak, we strike. We take back what was taken from us when the humans first came ashore, and we'll do it so thoroughly that every other human in the territory'll bail out and leave the North to us once more."
"Your father would be proud of you, Amarok," Umaak snickered coldly, "You're finally going to finish what he started all those years ago, and not even that filthy half-mutt Bingo can do anything about it now."
Both wolves could be heard laughing coldly as they walked away towards the hills. Balto shivered. The town was in even more trouble than it realized. He pleaded that the serum team would remain ahead of schedule and avoid the wolves if it could. They would clearly have no qualms doing to the antitoxin what they'd done to his medicine. But the fact they'd made a record pace so far was at least a good sign...
"Any sign of them at all?" the owner of the Manley Hot Springs roadhouse called to his assistant, who was running up the mail trail through the blinding snow in the weak afternoon light.
"No," his assistant shook his head grimly, "I went a good fifteen miles up the trail towards Tolovana. No sign of the Nome team at all. And the blizzard last night erased any tracks they might have made. They must have gone way off the trail. What do we do now?"
"Wait and hope they make it in," the owner sighed sadly, "And in the meantime, send the word to Nome that they've got a big problem now."
"Everyone's heading over to the barn," Balto squinted through the darkness from the boat's bow, seeing the forms of the rest of Nome's dogs heading for their usual meeting place in town, "They must be waiting for the next update."
"Surprised there hasn't been one yet," Boris mused next to him.
"Yeah, and that's what worries me, Boris," Balto said softly, his expression dimming, "I'd have thought the team would have reached the next stop by now. I haven't heard anything all day, though."
"Well, you know how heavily it was snowing last night, Balto. They probably took it slower than usual," Boris rationalized.
"Steele, taking it slow and easy? That's not him at all," Balto shook his head. "I'm going over for the next update," he leaped off the bow onto the ice.
"You think they'll really let you listen with them when they don't like you for being half-wolf?" Boris pointed out with a frown, "And do you have to be so personally invested in this whole business...?"
"Yes, because it is personal now, Boris. I'll be back soon," Balto called back to him. He broke into a fast walk across the ice. Inside, his mind was racing. Perhaps he was overreacting, but this long a break without news of the relay made him very nervous. The intensity of the storm last night could well have thrown them off course. And in the middle of Alaska, getting lost could be direly fatal.
Then again, his more optimistic side tried to reason, every dog on the team was a professional; they had gone back and forth across the territory numerous times. And as much as he hated Steele, the malamute was a grand champion for a reason, even if he disagreed with how Steele was sometimes known to go about winning. Steele knew how to move a sled quickly between points. Hopefully they had simply overshot their initial target in the storm and had holed up somewhere safe until it had blown over.
As he reached the edge of town, he suddenly heard familiar barking: Morris from the telegraph office. He breathed a sigh of relief: some news, which was better than none at all. He reached towards the dogs' barn, hoping it would be good news. As he climbed up to the nearest open window, however, he could hear inside the last words he had wanted to hear: "...Steele and his team are lost..."