45

Joseph cried.

Huge, racking sobs, made up of too many emotions.

Fear, of course: there was no cage door for him to exit through or lock any more, but more relief. Relief that his friend was alive!

But with that recognition came more fear. What would Adonis do now he was free? Would he run? Hurt others? Hurt him, even?

Joseph pulled again at the slab on his leg, but it wouldn’t give an inch, not even when he ignored every jolt of pain in his head and heaved with everything he had left.

‘MOVE!’ he begged the stone. ‘Please!’

It was no good, though he battled futilely on, while Adonis moved closer, his steps still slow. Joseph watched him with concern: a deep gash by Adonis’s temple was bleeding heavily. He seemed disorientated, dizzy, even.

‘Adonis!’ he cried. ‘I’m stuck. Can’t move.’ He didn’t expect help, but he needed his friend to know. ‘Are you all right? You’re bleeding!’

The ape staggered closer, only pausing to wipe blood away as it reached his eye, and despite his wounds he climbed piles of rocks that would’ve had Joseph stumbling. When he reached Joseph, whose eyes were wide at the power and magnificence of his friend, he sat. By Joseph’s side.

But the ape didn’t look in Joseph’s direction, not even for a second. Instead, he stared beyond him, head turning slowly from side to side.

Joseph tried to follow his gaze, to make out what Adonis was looking at, but there was nothing but flames, kissing and smothering every piece of wood they came into contact with.

That didn’t stop Adonis looking, though, and the longer it went on, head swinging left to right like searchlights sweeping for bombers, Joseph started to realise what was happening.

Adonis was playing sentry. Keeping Joseph safe.

Tears stung his eyes. He was overwhelmed by this act of care and love. All his life, Adonis had been held captive, but when his moment for freedom had come, he hadn’t bolted. He hadn’t left Joseph. He’d stood guard instead.

‘Thank you,’ Joseph wept, ‘thank you, thank you, thank you.’

Suddenly he felt a movement beside him, as Adonis shifted his weight, his eyes lingering on Joseph’s face before moving down his body, stopping as he reached his leg.

‘That rock –’ Joseph pointed at it – ‘it’s trapped my leg. I can’t move it.’

He had no idea what Adonis could really, truly understand, but he didn’t believe it was a coincidence that with the greatest of ease, Adonis flicked the slab away, as if it were a mere pebble.

As the slab rattled to the ground, Joseph felt a shriek in his knee. He wanted to cry again, and did, though not just in pain or relief, but now in gratitude too.

Their eyes locked for a second time, and Joseph saw a softening in the ape’s face that was undeniable, however unlikely it seemed. If they did share a moment, and there would be many in the future who would refute it, it passed in a flash, as a new shriek filled the night.

The change in Adonis was immediate, every muscle in his frame tensing as he thrust his weight forward, front arms landing on the other side of Joseph’s body, building a barrier between the boy and whatever was out there.

There was a new urgency to him: on high alert, his eyes scanned the surroundings, but nothing moved, nothing stirred, only the flames.

Until, from nowhere, loped a four-legged shadow, forcing Adonis to stride over Joseph, putting himself entirely between the threat and the boy lying injured.

Joseph was scared to look but couldn’t help himself, eyes straining until he could make out a skeletal wolf, tongue lolling from its mouth, realising that it was the prospect of him that was making it salivate.

But Joseph had nothing to worry about, as in front of him, Adonis rose majestically onto his back legs, using every inch of his bulk to dominate the landscape, letting loose a roar that rolled all the way to the heavens.

The ape was a king. There was no other word for it. Joseph watched for the wolf’s response, but there was no retreat. In fact, Adonis’s call merely summoned a second wolf from the shadows; equally stupid, but equally famished.

Joseph felt any kind of stand-off could never end well for the wolves, yet all he could do was watch Adonis take another pace forward and repeat his instructions, deafening the sky as he did so.

Still the wolves didn’t retreat. Instead they split up, one stalking left, one right, dividing Adonis’s focus, making it impossible for him to cover every route to the boy.

Joseph felt his heart quicken, ignoring the pain in his body as he started another search for the rifle, though this time, with different targets in mind.

The wolves moved quickly, their bodies close to the ground, so close that they appeared to almost slither over the debris. Adonis moved left and then right, barking and yowling warning after warning, all of which were ignored.

Joseph was panicking now, so much so that he tried to stand. But it was a fruitless attempt, pain in too many places made it impossible, and he was forced to watch as Adonis made a decisive move to the wolf on the left who had edged the closest. His speed was mesmorising, made even more so by his size.

Joseph gasped as Adonis bounded into the shadows. The fight was brief, but he took no delight in seeing the first wolf throw itself at Adonis in the darkness, nor in seeing it fall to the ground seconds later, not just defeated, but broken, dead.

Joseph’s attention turned to its mate, who, seeing an unbroken path between it and dinnertime, was now tearing towards Joseph, jaws wide, eyes ecstatic.

This was it. He was exposed. Powerless. Even Adonis couldn’t save him now.