Bovicide, Zombie Diaries, and the Legend of the Brothers Brown

  Chapter Ten: Two Good Reasons to Hide an Island

  Lisa wrapped the blanket tighter around her and closed her eyes. Maybe if she went to sleep all this would be a bad dream. She might wake up at home. Or in Scotland. Hell, she’d even prefer to be back down that hole in Richard’s field, alone with the delusion that Jim loved her.

  But all she had was this cold reality.

  As she lay on the creaky wire bed in the dark station waiting for sleep to claim her, Lisa’s mind replayed frozen images, memories of the wolf and afterward.

  Hunger, gnawing at her constantly.

  Pacing her back yard, tortured by the wind-borne smell of sheep.

  The cold horror after she’d eaten. The guilty walk home.

  Washing the blood from her fur in the freezing river.

  Hiding from Jim as he stood beside the Mangifera Vita sapling, sure that if he saw her like this she’d lose him forever.

  The terror of seeing Richard in the field. The human instinct to threaten overriding the wolf’s better judgement to flee.

  Waking human in the pit, scared and scarred and naked. Trying to climb out. Mud and dirt. Cradling her bleeding wrist. Crying.

  Jim, staring down at her like she’d cut out his heart.

  The Team’s doctor asking her, amidst apologies, to strip down so he could examine her. The leader holding his rifle, watching.

  Feeling like a thing to be investigated, less than human. Stand, bend, cough, sit. Good girl.

  The doctor, leaving with a sample of her blood. The leader, pausing at the door to say, “You’re with the detective, aren’t you?” and smile.

  Breaking down, alone.

  Footsteps cut through her reverie, which was probably for the best. She had plenty more sad memories from the last few days, but dwelling on them didn’t make her feel any better. Since these were likely to be her final days, she’d rather they were as happy as she could make them.

  She opened her eyes and sat up on the sagging bed. Was the Team back already? Were these her last breaths? She breathed deep.

  A shape moved in the dark of the station. The wolf would be able to see who it was. And smell it. Stupid human senses.

  “Who’s that?” she asked. She didn’t expect an answer, but one came in a voice she didn’t quite recognise.

  “Your knight in shining armour,” he said.

  A key turned in the lock and the cell’s door swung open. A torch landed on the bed beside her and Lisa shone it on her rescuer.

  “Quentin?” she asked.

  But… he’d been brought up as a Proper Archian. Befriending Jim was the only blemish on his otherwise-spotless civic record. On her list of possible rescuers, Quentin was… absent. The only person less likely to take her side was Andrea.

  “Jim sent me,” he said, looking around the dark, empty station. “Quick. Before someone sees me.”