Changing trucks made Lee a little nuts.
One of the wolves bolted at the first vehicle change, and he knew he should have gone after, but the other five had a rendezvous with one of Abby’s contacts, and he had to get them to the, well, not church on time.
That idea made him laugh out loud.
They were getting worse, and he was beginning to worry he wasn’t going to be saving many more.
The last one in the first truck was so skinny, so exhausted he was barely breathing. The run had taken it out of him. Lee lifted him, needing to get him moved. “Come on, buddy. We have to keep moving, okay?”
Something made him frown, a whiff of gunpowder on the air, and he tossed the wolf in the cab of the new truck, heading off and leaving the empty truck behind. It was registered to someone else, just a piece of shit to move bodies with.
This truck was his.
He knew it backward and forward, how fast it could go, how it could take a turn.
The wolf whined gently, and Lee nodded. “I know, buddy. I’ll come back and look for him once you guys are safe. He seemed strong. They’ll be chasing us, not him. I’m sorry.”
He floored it, heading up into the mountains, pushing it. He couldn’t go home, but he could go to the cabin. It was safe, secure, warm, and well supplied.
Defensible. “We’ll get you guys safe until the other team can come. I swear it.”
Poor babies. So skinny. So tired. This shit pissed him off. There was always someone out there willing to exploit, whether it was humans or animals or shifters like them. He hated it.
What he did wasn’t much, but it was something. He could get these guys somewhere safe, somewhere they could heal or die, whichever they needed to. At least they would be free. Usually the ones he picked up were men, but more and more often they were leading out wolves. He had no idea if this meant they were weaker, stronger, just different. It didn’t matter. They were free.
The wolf next to him wiggled over enough to put a dry nose against his hand, a soft, grunting sigh sounding. Yeah, he got it. This was exhausting. “Rest, man. I’ll have food for you when we stop.” Good food, not the kibble-like crap they’d been fed at the Brotherhood.
He thought he heard the heavy tail wag, and that made him smile. “Right. Sometimes that’s what you need. I have milk. I have hamburger. I have chicken. Good stuff. There’s even an elk roast in the freezer.”
A sharp whine sounded when he said elk. Yeah. That was the reddest, gamiest meat. It would have the most nutritional value.
“We’ll start with the milk and defrost the elk, then. You hold on, buddy, and I’ll help you.”
That tail thumped again, and he would swear the mangy coat looked better, fuller. Trick of the light, he was sure.
“The cabin is remote, but it’s warm and safe. We’ll hide out there for a while, let you guys heal.”
That nose was colder now when it brushed him, and those teeth grazed his wrist when he reached out to stroke the wolf’s ears. A thank you.
“Oh, you are special, aren’t you? You wait, you’ll be okay. Soon you’ll be strong.”
Panting, the wolf closed his eyes, then the breathing evened out, and Lee felt alone again. That was okay. He was used to it.
He kept looking over, though, because he needed to see that skinny chest rising and falling.
It was important to keep them all alive, but this guy really spoke to him. Something about the way the wolf responded told him the spirit was willing.
He lost any company well before he turned into the series of switchbacks and hairpin turns on his way up the mountain.
Most folks would find it hair-raising, but he loved the challenge. By the time he got to his cabin, he was humming, his brain going through all he had to do. Pallets, food and drink, medical if any of them needed doctoring.
He started with his sweet wolf in the truck, carrying him in and starting the fire before bringing in the rest, one at a time.
Poor babies. The last one he swaddled in blankets before exposing him to the night air. He was so weak, so skinny.
Once he got them in, he locked the doors and made sure the windows were covered. He needed to pull out the roast, and see if he could get some milk into these guys.
“Okay, guys, be right back. Be good.”
Not that any of them were even awake. Except that one. He wagged.
“Milk soon, buddy. I’ll even warm it up.” It was a darn cold night, so that might bring everyone some comfort.
He turned on some music and went to the kitchen, chuckling at the gallons of milk and tubes of cheap hamburger. Rock on. It was good to have a team.
His supplier came in and out when he wasn’t there. Did he have anything not raw? Some turkey lunch meat. He would take that to his live wire, get him started on the road to strength as fast as he could. Lee put the milk on to warm, the elk out to thaw in the oven on low, and took the meat to his wolf.
The pup’s eyes popped open as he came close, the soft rumble fading from warning to pleasure.
“That’s it. I brought some turkey. The milk is warming.” He fed the wolf one bite, helping him swallow with some petting.
The wolf groaned softly, taking the next bite more easily, and the third almost eagerly. Yes. Good man. Protein and rest. That helped more than anything else.
Another wolf raised his head, nose working, so Lee fed him some too. “There you go, buddy. Easy.”
Soon he had something in all of them -- meat and milk -- and he slumped down on the ratty, wonderful old sofa. It was warm, safe, and they had food. Hopefully they would all be alive in the morning.
He sent up a little prayer, in fact, to the god who watched over children and animals and silly werewolves like him. Let them all make it, Lord. I don’t have the strength to bury one of them.
He let his eyes close, and he sank into the cushions with a soft sigh. Rest. Rest and tomorrow would be tomorrow.