Ashton Daigle

Jesse was none to happy about being remanded to bed, but when he finally did lie down, he fell into a deep, dreamless sleep and was out for close to twelve hours.

It was dark out when he woke to the heavy smell of cigarette smoke. He glanced over and saw the Russian, Rakov, sitting in a chair close to his bed, flipping through some papers Rakov glanced up when he heard Jesse stir.

“Good evening,” Rakov said.

“Evening,” Jesse said, nodding. “It looks like you were right. I must have really needed the rest.”

“Your fever has finally subsided,” Rakov said. “It was nearly up to a hundred and two earlier tonight.”

“That’s all well and fine, but I suspect you’re not here just to talk about my fever,” Jesse said.

“Quite the contrary my friend,” Rakov said. “This is one of the few quiet places I could find to relax so I could look over all of my notes.”

It was then that Jesse understood exactly what Rakov meant. There was a terrible stir going on outside. Jesse could hear music, hollering and laughter.

Jesse tried to sit up, but did so too fast and instead, laid back down. Embarrassed, he rolled his eyes and nodded to the window. Rakov made a motion to Jesse not to over exert himself.

“Let me guess, Garvey’s having a victory celebration out there,” Jesse said.

“I despise that man,” Rakov said, with complete contempt. “He’s lucky I haven’t gutted him with one of my scalpels. It is men like him, who give men like you and I a bad name. He is no hunter. He is a butcher.”

“I’ve said that myself on more than one occasion,” Jesse said, trying again to sit up.

Rakov’s arm, which was nearly as thick as a tree trunk, shot out, and gently helped Jesse up; first into sitting position and then up on his feet.

“There’s a bed pan over there near the table,” Rakov said, sitting back down and turning his attention back to his notes. “Don’t mind me.”

Jesse walked over, relieved himself, walked back to bed and laid back down. Rakov set his notes down in his lap and looked over at the window, listening to the noise coming from outside.

“So I guess Garvey got the wolf after all,” Jesse said.

Rakov raised and eyebrow and said, “He got a wolf. He got the wolf that killed the girl.”

Jesse shook his head quietly.

“How did you find out?” Jesse asked.

“We confiscated the wolf, might I add much to Garvey’s dismay,” Rakov said. “And we opened up its stomach.”

“Jesus,” muttered Jesse.

“It wasn’t as bad as you might think,” Rakov said. “There really weren’t many recognizable human remains inside. But there was a ring. That’s how we made the positive identification of that wolf as the one who killed her.”

“So our wolf is still out there?” Jesse asked.

Rakov nodded. Then, with a thick forefinger he slid his glasses up the bridge of his nose and cleared his throat.

“Do you mind if I ask you a question?” Rakov said.

“Seeing as how I’m kind of bed ridden here, I don’t see no harm in it,” Jesse said.

“You knew that wolf, the one Garvey killed, you knew it wasn’t the wolf responsible for the other attacks here,” Rakov said.

“Of course I knew,” Jesse said. “I saw the wolf that was responsible for the earlier attacks.”

“That is not what I mean,” Rakov said. “Let me try again. Even if you had not seen the black wolf, the one Garvey killed, you still would have known it wasn’t the one responsible for the attacks. Am I correct?”

Jesse was about to blurt out his answer, but reconsidered the question first. What was the Russian getting at? Jesse almost flat out asked him, but decided he didn’t want to appear to be defensive.

“Yeah, I guess so,” Jesse said.

“And,” Rakov continued. “Is it safe for me to say that you feel like you know certain things about this wolf?”

“Have you been talking to the kid, Ogle’s nephew?” Jesse asked.

“No, I have spoken to no one about what I speak with you about now, nor do I intend to,” Rakov said. “But if we are going to work together to hunt this wolf, I have to look into your heart, into your soul; much the same way we will look into the heart and the soul of this animal we are hunting.”

“That’s awful esoteric for a couple hunters, wouldn’t you say,” Jesse said.

“The world is full of events, things that happen just beyond the periphery of our own understanding,” Rakov said. “Sometimes we get glimpses, but most of the time we do not. Allow me to ask the question again. Do you feel like you know specific things about this wolf, the one we’re hunting?”

“Yes,” said Jesse, almost defiantly, as if Rakov had pulled a dark confession from him. Strangely enough, Jesse felt relieved to get it off his chest. “I can’t really explain it, and it isn’t usually specific. It’s not like I could whip out a crystal ball and tell you where the wolf is now, but yes I feel like I understand this animal, somehow, to a certain degree.”

“Have you ever wondered how you know these things?” Rakov asked.

“No,” Jesse said. “I find it kind of strange personally. It’s not something I dwell on. Do you know how I know these things?”

“In fact I do,” Rakov declared, standing up and stretching.

Rakov walked over to the counter, set down his notes and returned with a large bottle of clear liquid. He sat down, took a large swig and passed the bottle to Jesse.

“It’s vodka,” Rakov said. “Its smooth. It isn’t like your American whiskey or moonshine. I brought it with me from Russia. It doesn’t burn going down.”

Jesse took the bottle from Rakov and drank. The taste and smell, at first, reminded Jesse of rubbing alcohol, but then it did taste smooth and it warmed his throat and insides almost instantly.

“Not bad,” Jesse said, passing the bottle back to Rakov.

“You and I are a lot alike,” Rakov said. “Different, but alike. You know these things about the wolf the same way I know them. It is because we are both natural born hunters. We understand the mystery and spirit of the hunt in ways ordinary men, the Garvey’s of the world, do not. We relish the chase and we intimately intuit the mysteries and actions of our prey. And lastly, we are always saddened, always mournful when the hunt has come to an end.”

“But that ain’t nothing we have to really worry about just yet now, is it?” asked Jesse.

“No, I suppose it is not,” Rakov said, as he handed the bottle back to Jesse.

Jesse sipped it, handed it back and said, “So tell me what you found in your examination of the victims from the third attack.”

“Only a little my friend, you still do need your rest,” Rakov said.

“Fair enough,” said Jesse.

“The bite marks on the victims of the third attack did not match the bite marks found on the body of the Parsons girl,” Rakov said.

“What do you mean by that exactly?” Jesse asked. “How do you measure that?”

“Usually by the distance between the canine teeth,” Rakov said. “They’re the longest teeth, located close to the front of the animal’s mouth, and because of their pointy ends, usually make the most discernable puncture wounds on human flesh. I will tell you the distance between our wolf’s two canines, the gap between the two teeth, is the largest I’ve ever measured on any wolf bite.”

“This is a unique animal,” Jesse said.

“Indeed it is,” Rakov said. “The sheer pressure of its bite, and the strength it had to use, likely when it shook its victims in its jaws, caused severe lacerations and ripping of the flesh. The strength it had to use, to inflict many of those wounds are far greater than what most wolves should be able to exhibit.”

“Are you trying to say it’s not a wolf?” Jesse asked.

“No, I’m merely saying it is a wolf like none the world has ever known, at least not documented,” Rakov said. “Yet, according to what you told the sheriff and Doctor Ogle, the wolf you saw was of average size.”

“Yes,” Jesse said. “It wasn’t as big as that black wolf Garvey killed.”

“This is puzzling to me,” Rakov said. “Puzzling and troubling. I will tell you something now, that I am not ready to share with anyone else, because, quite frankly I barely believe it myself, and because I haven’t exhausted all logical conclusions.”

“Go ahead,” Jesse said.

“Two of the victims, both men, I don’t recall their names,” Rakov said, almost blushing.

“It’s okay,” Jesse said. “I ain’t really too close to anyone here in town anyway, cept for the folks you seen me talking to today.”

“There was irregular bruising around the throats of these two men,” Rakov said. “It was hard to see, because the animal also bit these two men in the same spot and clamped down very hard, ripping their throats open. It appears as if the bruising was their before the bites, not a result of the bite. And, the bruising appears to be more consistent with that of a hand print - as if someone had reached out and grabbed them by their throat with a hand - than it does an animal bite.”

“So you’re trying to tell me our wolf has hands?” Jesse asked.

“I know, it sounds ridiculous,” Rakov said. “And, as I said, I haven’t ruled out all other possible logical explanations yet. That is why I don’t want to sharing this with anyone at this time. I do not relish the thought of being a, how you say, laughing stock for the whole town.”

“No,” Jesse said. “I reckon you don’t. But this is the strangest damned thing I’ve ever heard of.”

“It is one of the strangest things that I have ever seen, and that is saying a lot because I am a doctor,” Rakov said.

Jesse mulled this over and Rakov nodded to him.

“I have one more thing I want to ask you, before you retire,” Rakov said. “It’s about the black wolf that Garvey killed. Where is this river or creek where it was killed? After we go see the destroyed wolves you saw, I should like to go there.”

“I’ve been wondering about that myself,” Jesse said. “I have a feeling we’re thinking the same thing. That big male, he seems too big to be out here on his own doesn’t he?”

“Yes,” Rakov said. “That is correct. A wolf of his size and stature would almost definitely be a leader of a pack somewhere. And there’s only one thing that would make an pack leader stray from his pack.”

“One thing and one thing only,” Jesse said. “Well, maybe two, a bitch in heat, or a lone bitch that’s just given birth.

“Yes, dominant males have been known to actually go out and seek such females, to take back to the pack,” Rakov said.

“Kind of like building his own harem,” Jesse said, chuckling.

“I have never heard it put that way before, but yes, that is extremely accurate,” Rakov said. “Now, more rest. I will get you up at dawn and we will ride.”

Jesse nodded and then said, “A wolf with hands? How is that possible?”

“It isn’t,” Rakov said. “It isn’t. But it is like I told you earlier, many, many things happen beyond the periphery of our own understanding. Hopefully we’ll get a glimpse of what this is.”

“I sure hope so,” Jesse said. “If we don’t, there’s going to be a lot more bloodshed in this town.”

“I agree,” Rakov said. “I agree.”