Ashton Daigle

They’d barely made it out of Manny’s and onto the street when a large bear of a man walking up the street called out to them.

Even from twenty feet away, Jesse could see the man was an anomaly of sorts, who looked like he’d stepped into Grand Junction from another place or time. He wore a heavy, dark brown chorded coat and a furred, ushanka hat, favored by Russians. That in itself was enough to make him stick out. But he also carried himself with a certain air of authority that commanded respect.

“Let me guess,” Jesse said. “The Russian.”

“Yes,” said Doc Ogle. “That’s him.”

“What in God’s name is wrong with those people,” Rakov screamed.

His accent was heavy, thick, even though he was still a good ten feet away, but closing fast. “They’ve got the wolf hanging like its for sale in a, how you say, meat market. And this”

Rakov pointed at the parked wagon full of dead and dying wolves, as he kicked the wheel of the wagon viciously, in disgust. His eyes scanned the carcasses, as it registered that some were barely holding on to life. The smell of rotting meat, urine and feces had beun to hang heavy in the air, despite the steady, strong north wind.

“And your people say Russians are savages, to hell with them,” Rakov yelled, though he really wasn’t yelling at this point. “Look at this, it’s disgusting. At once Sheriff, you must pull this thing out of town and burn it. Do you not care about the risk of spreading filth and disease?”

“Truthfully, I hadn’t considered that,” Sheriff Russell replied. “But it sounds like a good enough reason to me.”

“Consider it, consider it, that’s all I’ve heard since I’ve been here,” Rakov said. “The time for action is close at hand. I am not kidding. I made significant progress in the examination of the bodies from the last attack.”

Rakov paused and looked at Jesse and then the kid. Jesse considered Rakov for a moment. Rakov stood at least six foot four. He wore thick, black horn-rimmed glasses and his cheeks were bright red. He had thick, white wisps for eyebrows. He looked directly at Jesse.

“You must be the wolf tracker,” Rakov said.

For a long, strained moment, the two men looked at each other, as if they’d discovered something, some sort of deep secret about themselves buried in the other. It might have been competitiveness. It might have been mutual respect. It might have been both. Jesse wasn’t sure, but it unnerved him a little bit, and seemed to unnerve Rakov as well.

“And you must be the wolf expert,” Jesse said, extending his hand. “Jesse Cade, I’m glad to meet your acquaintance.”

“Dr. Nikolai Rakov, but if you like call me Nick,” Rakov said, pronouncing it N-E-E-K. “It seems to easier on American tongues. And I don’t mind. What is the joke they say, you can call me anything, just don’t call me late to supper. Or for vodka either eh.”

Jesse laughed good-naturedly and Rakov took his hand and shook it briskly.

“Whoa, quite a grip you have there Nick,” Jesse said. “You damn near jerked my arm out of socket.”

“But that’s okay, eh, you’re lucky enough to be in the company of two doctors. You like, we can pop it right back in socket for you,” Rakov said.

Jesse laughed, but this time a little nervously.

“I’m joking,” Rakov said, and then looked at Jesse closely. “You look like shit. You’re sweating, breaking a fever. You should still be in bed.”

“That’s what I tried to tell him, but he’s stubborn as hell,” said Doc Ogle.

“What and miss out on all this fun?” Jesse asked

“Stubborn won’t do any of us any good if you end up dead,” Rakov said. “Where are you going to now?”

“Well, Jesse here ran into sort of a blood bath on his way back to town,” Ogle said.

“Tell me,” Rakov said. “Quickly.”

In a matter of minutes Ogle recounted the tale for Rakov, as the Russian just looked at them, with heavy, piercing, but thoughtful eyes.

When Ogle finished, Rakov nodded and said, “That can wait. There are more pressing matters at hand, beginning first with you Sheriff. I’m serious, you need to get that wagon pulled away from town and burned.”

“It’s not my property,” Russell said.

“Are you not the damned sheriff?” Rakov stammered. “Declare it an emergency medical quarantine, and confiscate it.”

“Is it that serious?” Ogle asked. “Rabies isn’t airborne.”

“No, but it disgusts me, as it should you too,” Rakov said. “Have it burned.”

He now turned to Jesse and stared at him.

“What?” Jesse asked.

“Bed, that I am serious about,” Rakov said. “Fever isn’t something one should take lightly.”

“But what about the wolves that were mutilated?” Jesse asked.

“You know as well as I do, tracker, that this freeze will preserve everything perfectly,” Rakov said. “You also know there’s barely a creature out stirring in this godforsaken wilderness. I have to examine the young girl who was attacked in my leave, immediately.”

“I kind of wanted to be around for that,” Jesse said.

“Trust me,” Rakov said, his voice taking on a slightly menacing tone. “If the damage is as bad as Doctor Ogle has said it is, you don’t want to see it. It will serve no purpose.”

“I don’t mean no disrespect Dr. Rakov,” said Jesse. “But I do need to know just exactly what we’re up against here.”

“I’ll take good notes for you,” Rakov replied. “Now go. Go lay down. Or else I’ll have to put you down.”

Jesse bristled and was about to retort when Rakov smiled warmly.

“Another joke, perhaps I need to work on that,” Rakov said. “Please, listen to reason. I am going to need you, but only in top condition. Do I make myself clear?”

“Yeah,” Jesse said. “You do. Let me know how it goes.”

“Come on Jesse,” the kid said. “I’ll walk you back down to Doc Ogle’s office. You can lay down there. You want we can go around back.”

Jesse was about to protest but then finally muttered, “That might be best. I’m really not feeling all too good. The last thing I need is for Garvey to get to me.”