Henry Gillant could face down ghouls, werewolves, banshees, countless things from the most imaginative nightmares without a blink of his eye, but seeing his bright inquisitive son so still and out of it scared him more than the worse things he had hunted. He glanced at his boys through the rearview mirror. "He asleep?"
"No," Jake answered tightly.
Henry's fingers squeaked around the steering wheel. Hospital was in the next town over and Henry was already driving as carefully and slowly as possible, avoiding every damn pothole on this bumpy country road.
Last night had been horrifying. Henry's stomach turned queasy. He couldn't get the image of Cael disappearing in that hole out of his mind. He thought he'd lost him, right then and there. Henry peeked in the mirror again, grounding himself that Cael was here, safe with them, not gone, not lost and unreachable a thousand feet down. He wished he could see Cael's face, but his son had it pressed hard into Jake's side. The square of gauze on the back of his head was already coming loose, impossible to tape down to that soft tangle of hair, but it didn't appear as though any more blood had seeped through.
That was something, though…Henry breathed out a steadying stream of breath. Something wasn't right. Cael needed more help than he could give him.
"Dad. Look." Jake brought him out of his worried thoughts. "A Vet."
Sure enough, up ahead there was a sign for Blue Ridge Veterinary Clinic with a broad arrow, pointing to a turn-off where a sliver of a dirt road wound its way to what looked more like a ranch spread than a clinic out by itself on a lonely country road.
Henry immediately took the car onto the turn-off. He was well acquainted with smaller clinics, preferring less people, and on occasion less paperwork to deal with—cash under the table so to speak when he couldn't get to the base hospital.
Henry pulled up close to the door, noting there weren't any other cars out front even though it was late afternoon, just an old green pick-up parked out by the barn. Was the clinic closed? Open sign said otherwise.
"Wait here while I check it out."
Inside, the cheery little clinic appeared empty. No customers in the plastic chairs of the waiting room, even though the doors were unlocked and the place was clearly open for business. Henry pushed past the saloon-style swinging shutter doors and into the procedure room, startling a raccoon inside one of the small cages lining the wall. It hissed, slipping a cast-enclosed leg through the thin bars. It was the only animal in the place. Henry also noted the array of medicines stacked on shelves and behind the glass insert doors of wooden cabinets, unattended and easy for the taking. Except Henry wasn't here for supplies.
"Hello?" he called out. "Anyone about?"
Huh. Fists on hips, Henry waited for someone to come out of one of the doors on either side of the procedure room. This was certainly no way to run a business. Frustration mounting, Henry took the door to his right and walked into a kitchen of all things with the back door wide open, letting a warm breeze come in through the screen.
Okay, barn then. Henry marched across the dirt yard toward the large building out back. If he didn't find anyone in there to help him, he was going to come back, scoop as much medicine and supplies as he could carry and get his boys to the hospital the next county over.
"Anyone here? Oh." Stepping into the barn, Henry winced. Now that was a sight you didn't come across every day. A wiry geezer stood a few feet away with his left arm elbow deep in the rectum of a cow.
"Like I thought. Pregnant," the guy announced. "Hand me that towel, will you?"
"Oh. Um, sure." Henry grabbed one of the linens folded neatly on top of a stainless steel table and held it out to the vet who smoothly removed his arm and pulled the nastily long sterile glove from his hand. Studiously, Henry set his gaze on the cow who except for a little widening of the round eye seemed to have taken the invasion in stride.
When the guy grabbed the towel, Henry instinctively stepped back, even though he was far more filthy coated in ash and dirt than the vet, but Henry hadn't stuck his arm up any of the gremlins' asses either. "I need your help."
"What I'm here for." The old guy wiped his hands unhurriedly, looking Henry up and down. "Not from around here. You don't look like a rancher. Farmer neither. You a fair-weather hunter?"
Henry jolted.
"You shot one of my neighbors stock, right? Now you want me to fix it?"
Pushing a hand back through his hair, Henry relaxed, realizing he was talking about a different kind of hunting. "No, it's not an animal. My son—"
"Your son's been shot?" That got the man moving through the door. "Why'd you bring him here? Needs a hospital."
Henry hustled after him across the yard. "Not shot. He's banged his head pretty bad. Look. I just panicked, saw your sign…"
The vet threw him a look over his shoulder, measuring as though he didn't for one minute take Henry as the panicking type. "I can at least take a look. Bring him into the clinic while I clean up."
"Thank you," Henry said, running around to the front of the clinic as the vet dashed inside the back door.
"Jake." Henry pulled the Explorer's rear door open as quietly as the old metal would allow, having enough head wounds to know every little squeak was magnified. Two sets of eyes lifted toward him.
"You were gone a long time." Cael's creased features expressed his worry.
The block of ice that'd wedged inside Henry's chest since the moment he saw the kid fall, thawed a little bit. "I know. Took a while to find someone on the property. You look better." At least he wasn't pressed as hard as he could get against Jake anymore. Color wasn't any better though. "Headache ease up?"
Cael's eyes slid to the left, sure sign he didn't want to answer, which was answer enough. "A little," Cael whispered.
Henry's frown matched Jake's. "Come on, let's get you inside."
"But, Dad . . ."
"Cael," Jake took over. "We already talked about this. It's here or a civilian hospital."
Cael's hair lifted as he blew out a huffy breath and Henry smothered a grin.
"Alright, then." That settled, Henry helped him scoot across the seat toward him, where from both sides, he and Jake got him on his feet where his son's features suddenly tensed.
"You good?" Jake's facial expression seemed just as strained.
Cael nodded crisply, though it was more than apparent just standing had made his headache flare again. This couldn't go on. Henry wouldn't let it.
"It's not that far. We're going to carry you."
"Dad, I don't—"
"Wasn't a suggestion."
Henry nodded to Jake and they both slipped an arm beneath Cael's knees and carried him between them like a chair. Henry didn't like the whimper Cael tried to muffle at the slight jostle when they had to pause to get the door open. In moments, they had him laid out on the short stainless steel examining table, looking up at the wiry veterinarian with tufty white hair leaning over him while the raccoon hissed and spit up a racket.
"So what do we have?" Without waiting for an answer, the doctor pulled a pair of glasses from his pocket and slipped them on before turning Cael's head to the side to examine the raised cut on the boy's temple.
"Jake." Henry inclined his head toward the noisy animal and Jake immediately picked up the cage and carried the raccoon into the other room, depositing it and closing the door. They could still hear the ruckus, though muted.
"Now's the time you explain what happened." The guy looked at Henry over the rim of his glasses. His fingers felt along the wound at the back of Cael's head. Cael's lips were clenched, but he kept still for the examination.
Henry nodded. "We were hunting. My son…fell."
"Did he ever lose consciousness?"
Jake's head snapped toward him.
"Yes," Henry supplied. For too long. "He was out several hours."
"Hours?" The doc stiffened though he quickly recovered.
"But he woke up last night, was coherent and talking." Henry r
ambled, wanting so badly for the doctor to reassure him that meant something good. He'd thought the worst was over, but this morning, Cael had been hurting something fierce and out of it.
"He's had a constant headache." Jake supplied and Cael frowned up at him, most likely piecing together for himself just how bad off he'd been and what a scare he'd given his family.
The vet looked from one Gillant to another and sighed. "Head traumas are funny things. Severe and lingering headaches aren't necessarily an indication that something terrible is wrong. Boy's bell was rung hard and headaches are sometimes the body's best defense, a way of righting itself, simple as that. I'm going to run some X-rays to make sure."
"You're equipped for that?"
The doctor gave Jake a bland look. "Animals break bones too, son. I've got to warn you though, if the X-ray shows swelling or skull fractures, I can't help you here. You're going to need a hospital. Deal?"
Henry's worry amped up. Now that the doc had taken charge, he was feeling helpless and the adrenaline he'd been running on was leveling off. "Deal."
"Roll that cart over here, would you." The veterinarian indicated a portable state-of-the-art X-ray machine. "Finished with Cael's head, the guy tapped the bark and shoe laces tied around his wrist. We'll X-ray this too. What's under here?" He began pulling the tape and gauze from Cael's other arm, scraggly brows lifting at the deep bite marks beneath. His gaze lifted accusingly to Henry.
Rolling the X-ray machine's cart next to Cael, Henry quickly covered. "Wolf got at him."
"After he fell." The vet straightened to his full height. "See those diplomas decorating my wall? Those kinda state that I've been at this long enough to know a wolf bite when I see it. This was made by one of those hairless critters been after our livestock."
"You know about those?" Jake's brows collided over perplexed green eyes. "They haven't just taken cattle and sheep. They've gone after people. Why didn't you warn anybody?"
"Who says I didn't? I went to the town council, got laughed out on my ass for my trouble. Even killed one of the things, but the little beast wouldn't go down with rifle-shot alone, took burning it and when I dragged its corpse into town for proof, wasn't enough left and folks believe what they want to believe. I became the laughing stock of the county and you see what that did to my business." He ran an agitated hand through his hair, making the tufts stand up more. "Dammit, if you tangled with one of these things, you've brought them right back to my place."
"We didn't bring any here."
Doc was racing through the kitchen to lock the back door. "Once they have your scent, they'll stick to you like glue."
"Relax." Henry watched the guy hurry to shut the front door. "We got them all."
The vet slid to a stop. "There is no getting them all. I don't know where they came from or how long they've been here, but beginning of last month there was an explosion of the beasts. Hundreds by my estimation and what I've seen done to all the farms' stock around here."
"I'm telling you we got them."
The guy's gaze swept over the Gillants' dirty appearances. All three of them were coated in ash. "Want to explain to me how three guys managed that?"
"Tracked them to their cave. Set explosives. Done deal." Jake folded his arms across his chest. "It's what we do."
Doc seemed to mull that over. "If that's true, then this county owes you some immense gratitude. You're sure you got them all?"
"Absolutely," Jake said.
"Relatively." Henry's answer was a little more practical. "Planning on staying a few days to be sure."
The vet nodded, walked back over to Cael who had his fingers pressed tight to his forehead, pushing the skin above his nose into wrinkles. Aw, Cael. It hurt to see his youngest in this level of pain. Cael's chest was rising and falling in quick staccato pants. Henry slipped his palm over Cael's fingers.
"Can you give him anything?" Jake asked, voice quiet.
"That's what I'm trying to determine." The doctor glanced at Jake and his features softened. "Look. We'll take the X-rays, get a look at what we're dealing with. Then I'll know what's safe." He pushed the cord into the outlet and the machine started purring while the doctor punched several buttons and positioned the long arm over Cael's face. "Name's Ellis Walker. Most folks call me Doc Wal."
Henry nodded. "Henry Gillant. My sons, Jake and Cael."
"Hey," Jake mumbled, gaze fixed on the small computer screen built into the X-ray machine that was showing black and white images. Instant images. Nice.
"Cael," Doc Wal's tone was the gentlest Henry had heard him. "I'm going to just turn your head, yeah, that's good. Now hold it right here while I take a look. I know it hurts, but you're doing good."
Henry stared at the screen for another twenty minutes while the vet repositioned him to make sure he got every angle. Henry couldn't make heads or tails out of what he was looking at, just waited silently, tension rising, so the doc could do his job. When he swung the camera's arm out of the way, both he and Jake leaned forward, practically in the man's face.
Nine