Kathy Reichs - Seizure

“Keep talking,” Chance warned. “But don’t act surprised when I clock you.”

“Enough!” I said. “Let’s get to the beach.”

We divided the gear. Then, Nikes strung around my neck, excavation tools strapped to my back, I lowered into the surf and waded ashore. The boys followed close behind.

Once on dry land, I set down my tool kit and pulled on my socks. The others gathered in a semicircle to re-shoe. The huge moon lit the landscape with an eerie blue radiance. We kept our flashlights off.

“Where exactly is the tower?” Ben.

“In those hills.” Hi pointed south over the dunes. “Past the beach is a long grassy field. From there, a trail leads into the woods. The tower should be along it somewhere.”

“I’ll scout ahead.” Ben shouldered my tool bag. “If I’m not back in ten minutes, follow me south.” With that, he disappeared over the nearest dune.

“Is he always like that?” Chance asked.

No one bothered to answer.

I had one sneaker laced when I heard a soft rustling off to my left.

I peered down the beach.

Nothing but moonlit sand.

My second shoe was half-tied when sand swished somewhere among the dunes. My eyes darted, searching for the source of the noise.

“Ben?” Shelton called hesitantly.

Two points of yellow flashed in the night. Disappeared.

“What was that?” Hi whispered.

“Shh!” My eyes strained to pierce the gloom ahead.

Two shadows streaked from a stand of sea oats. Four amber dots flashed, closer this time. Shot sideways. Vanished.

My mind filled in the blanks.

Eyes. Circling.

I began to hiss a warning, but a growl stilled my tongue.

More snarls joined the first, creating an eerie, keening chorus.

Chance dropped to a crouch. “Whatever’s out there doesn’t sound happy.”

“I forgot to mention something.” Moonlight reflected off Shelton’s glasses. “Next year, the Wildlife Refuge plans to reintroduce red wolves to Bull Island.”

“Sounds like they stepped up their timetable,” Hi whispered.

Three silhouettes loped across the dunes. Sleek. Four-legged.

“There!” Hi pointed to our right. “Wolves! Big ones.”

Chance gestured left. “Over here, too.”

As I stared in terror, a shape took form directly before me. My mind logged details. Large, triangular head. Massive forepaws. Powerful, muscular trunk.

Wolf. Male. Enormous.

I could make out some of his coloring in the pale moonlight. Cinnamon-brown belly and pelt. Charcoal back and tail. White muzzle.

My brain estimated stats. Length: five feet. Weight: eighty pounds.

Almond-shaped eyes studied me.

“Easy big fella.” I took a small step backward, arms straight down at my sides. “We’re all friends here.”

A second wolf appeared, then a third, each resembling the leader, but smaller.

I stood facing the wolves, Hi and Shelton flanking me, Chance a step behind. Where was Ben?

“Another on our right,” Hi whispered.

“And left,” Shelton said. “Pacing.”

Five in all. A decent-sized pack.

“We can swim to the boat,” Chance hissed. “They hate water, right?”

“What about Ben?” Hi’s voice cracked.

“Everyone relax,” I said. “Red wolves don’t attack people.”

“You sure?” Hi croaked. “This one’s staring like I’m Lean Cuisine.”

The wolves did seem agitated. Though White Muzzle sat calmly on his haunches, the others circled, growling and sniffing, tossing glances at the night sky.

Suddenly it dawned on me.

“The full moon,” I whispered. “It’s freaking them out.”

“Great,” Shelton whimpered. “We’re dog food.”

White Muzzle abruptly stood. Hackles up. Ears flattened. Tail horizontal.

Uh oh .

The rest of the pack froze.

“Not good,” Hi said. “Where do I kick an attacking wolf?”

Shelton tugged my arm. “Talk to them, dog whisperer. Calm them down.”

“What are you babbling about?” Chance’s face glistened with sweat.

But I understood what Shelton meant.

Keeping Chance at my back, I stilled my thoughts and closed off sensory input.

SNAP.

My canine DNA fired into action. As the flare ripped through me, the world cranked into focus.

But something was different.

Though always a struggle, this time the transformation was wilder and more chaotic. Raw-edged.

My body pulsed with more power than ever before. My brain flooded with too much data. I nearly lost control.

White Muzzle tensed, barked twice, and lunged in my direction.

“I’m there.” Shelton’s voice sounded strangled. “But amped too high.”

“Plenty of flare over here,” Hi spluttered. “Overload. What’s going on?”

Watching the skittish wolves, the answer suddenly dawned.

“The full moon,” I whispered. “It must be affecting our flares. Riling the wolf DNA inside us.”

“What are you babbling about?” From behind, Chance couldn’t see our eyes. “We should retreat to the boat!”

White Muzzle’s lips drew back. Predatory teeth gleamed in the moonlight. He growled, fur bristling.

Tread carefully .

White Muzzle viewed us as a rival pack invading his turf. He was alpha. I was alpha. This wasn’t Whisper, an animal accustomed to human interaction. This was a wild creature, feeling threatened, instinctually defending his family.

Inching forward, I willed the wolf to understand.

We mean you no harm .

My mind probed, found the invisible barrier blocking my thoughts from the rest of the world. I pushed.

Hi and Shelton hovered close. I strained. Reached. Failed. No matter my effort, the wall separating our psyches wouldn’t yield. I couldn’t connect my brain to theirs.

Frustrated, I fired my message outward, toward White Muzzle.

A primal consciousness brushed against mine. Contact.

An electric shiver coursed through me as our thoughts melded.

We mean you no harm .

White Muzzle started, stepped backward, raised his snout and howled. The rest of the pack joined his keening wail.

We mean you no harm .

SNUP.

I fell to my knees. Beside me, Shelton trembled. Hiram wheezed and spat.

“What’s happening!?” Chance sounded near panic. “Are you guys okay!?”

I wobbled to my feet, eyes never leaving our four-legged hosts.

White Muzzle eyed me a moment longer, then turned and trotted over the dunes. The other wolves followed single file.

“They left.” Chance barked a nervous laugh. “Just like that. They left.”

“Yeah,” I panted. “Just like that.”

Head spinning, I turned and puked on the sand.

WE’D JUST CROSSED the dunes when I spotted Ben pounding down the trail.

“What happened!?” Concern crimped his features. “Is everyone okay?”

“Fine,” I said. “We met a wolf pack, but they left in peace. I got sick.”

Ben looked a question at me, but because of Chance, didn’t press. He gestured back the way he’d come. “I found the watchtower.”

I noticed Ben was empty-handed. “Where are my tools?”

“By the fort. I had a sudden … feeling you guys needed help.”

“Psychic?” Chance needled. “Who ya got in the Super Bowl?”

Ben’s jaw tensed. “Forget it. Let’s go.”

We followed the moonlit trail downward into swampier terrain. Ravenous insects began to feast, sent invitations to all their friends and relatives. More than once we paused to slather on bug spray.