Wolves and Men

The wolf picked up the piece of denim once more. She looked at him as he looked around with his hands held away from his sides. The wolf turned and jumped toward the north. She landed and stopped looking back over her shoulder at him.

He took one last look around him, holding his hands up and away from him, and shaking his head he followed his guide. She ran gracefully through the trees and he followed her as he was careful to not touch himself or anything else with his blood covered hands. He felt ridiculous running with his hands out in front of him. But it couldn’t be helped he had to be sure he didn’t leave any traces that could be followed.

His mind reached into itself, and he found himself thinking about his pursuers. Federal agents did not just give up on finding someone. If they wanted to find you, they would find you, it was that simple. Especially since they had to know they had just missed him. It had been a close thing to be sure but they had to know that he had been at his burrow recently. The biggest culprit that pointed to the habitation of his burrow was that half-eaten fish he had saved. Fish, even smoked, did not keep very long. That being said the sweep of his valley was probably completed by now. Once they found no one there they would expand their search. Which direction they would search was a question that he had done his best to make the answer extremely hard.

It is possible that the cops had followed him. It was possible but not likely. He hadn’t heard any helicopters in pursuit of them and the wolf had not given any indication that they were being followed. She had been keeping a very grueling pace though. This troubled him slightly. Now that he thought about it, they had been running, as they were now, for three days straight. Except for yesterday when they got some rest during the storm. She had been driving them farther and farther north at ever increasing speeds.

The sun had reached its zenith in the sky, warming him and drying the surrounding tree branches, which had stopped dripping some time ago. There wasn’t a lot of underbrush here. In fact, instead of a pine needle strew forest floor, the ground was covered in grass. This was new and the soft blades brushed against his legs as his feet flattened and was cushioned by them. This was the most comfortable ground he had run on in a long time.

The trees gave way to a wide-open meadow. The wolf skirted the edge of the meadow staying within the shade of the trees. He followed and marveled again at the intelligence of the animal that he was following. She had to know that they were not out of danger from pursuit and she was being just as cautious as he was to avoid being detected.

They looped around the outside of the meadow following its boundary to the east, then northeast, and north again. The she-wolf stopped and trotted away from the northern boundary of the meadow and lead him to a small creek that bordered the meadow on the north side. The she-wolf immediately dunked the piece of fabric in the water and shook it under the cold creek water. Once she was satisfied, she dropped the soaked piece of fabric at her feet and lapped up the water, drinking deeply.

He fell to his knees and plunged his blood covered hands into water. Scrubbing them till they were no longer red he wiped the water off on his deer skin pants. Leaning over the creek he lowered his head to drink. The water was cold and slid down his throat almost painfully, but he drank the water, thankful for the thirst-quenching liquid.

He took out his knife and cleaned the handle and the blade. The deer blood had dried but with only a little difficulty the blade came clean. He looked over at his guide and she was standing up, facing southward away from the creek. Sheathing his blade, he stood up and looked in that direction as well.

He couldn’t see anything, but the rigid posture of the wolf told him that something was not right. He looked out over the meadow and saw nothing unusual. The she-wolf remained where she was. He could see all her muscles were tight and she was ready to move in an instant. He couldn’t figure out what it was that was making her so wary.

He heard the faint distinctive sounds of helicopter blades. His eyes widened in shock and fear. They had eluded the cops for three or four days now, but the search had obviously caught up with them. As the realization of what was happening took precious seconds to register in his mind, the she-wolf bolted and tore off northward jumping over the creek. He broke away from where he was and ran after the wolf. The wolf moved in between the trees and stayed within the shadows. He had to jump and dodge the surrounding trees just to keep the wolf in sight.

The helicopter was getting closer by the minute. It wasn’t traveling very fast at least by its standards, but its current speed was still enough to overtake them. He continued to run after his companion. She seemed to know where she was going and he had no idea where he was, exactly. Nor did he know where they could conceal themselves from the searching eyes of the helicopter.

The wolf tore through the tall grass of the forest floor. He forced himself to run faster. Soon the tall grass gave way to pine needles once more. The sound of the helicopter was not changing at all, except that it was growing steadily louder. Which means the helicopter wasn’t really searching it was traveling in a straight line. If they were looking for him, wouldn’t they be moving in a search pattern?