The People's Alpha ✔

28: Revelations

For a moment nobody moved. I just stared at the person who had just revealed themselves, and so did Brian. You could feel the gradual darkening of the sky as the sun slowly set behind us.

I tried to contain my surprise. It was the old guy, the one that had cussed us out in Copenhagen Town. He was crouched next to a tree hollow, which I assumed was his shelter. "What the hell are you doing here?" I began to ask.

"Be quiet. Be very quiet. They're just over there." He pointed towards the pack village.

"You know him?" Brian whispered. "He looks like a -"

I leaned over and whispered in his ear. He nodded and wisely shut up.

"Please don't tell my daughter I am here." Old Guy pleaded. "She's probably worried sick already."

"I won't," I replied.

"You were very lucky that we're downwind of them. They're just over there. If you come over here to the tree, where I've been standing, you can just see them."

Drawing in a breath, I moved over, Brian following, crouching down in the long grass. Through a crack of sky exposed between the pack houses, we could indeed see movement. It was the same people in the black fatigues that seemed to be the Thunder Falls uniform. They were standing there, looking away from us. I tried to ascertain what they were doing, exactly, but the distance and the tiny field of vision through the houses made it hard.

"Do they have a vehicle?"

"A pickup truck."

"Why wouldn't they be stationed at the road?" Brian wondered, also trying to make sense of what they were doing. "Surely they're keeping an eye, at least. Surely they know we're here."

"That's what I thought, too. But they don't seem to be too worried about trespassers. Maybe they know you're here."

"How the hell did you even get here?" I was eyeing his ragged clothes.

"I followed them."

"You followed a pickup truck? At full speed?"

"I think that was already here," our elder replied, "No. I followed some wolves I saw at the Supercentre construction site. I may be getting on in years, but believe me, I'm still quite sprightly as a wolf. And I have quite a talent for following people without being found out."

Brian muttered something under his breath.

"We have a code of honour, I'll let you know," his tone grew a caustic edge. We're not the lowlifes you pack people think we are."

"We don't-" Brian started.

"Why would I tell you all of this? As a favour. For helping my daughter-"

"I don't think this is the time for this argument," I interjected, noting that the black fatigues had moved out of sight. "We need to get the hell out of here, right now."

"If they haven't noticed us, then maybe we should stay and try to observe them for a bit."

I remembered back to the brief conversation I had had with Adlai during the congress. "No. We need to get out. And we have duty at Salmon Creek tonight."

Brian let out a sigh. We crept back over to the car as quietly as we could, thankful for the shadows that the setting sun was casting over us.

***

Dusk had truly fallen now, and the big feline headlamps were casting a yellow glow over the pockmarked surface of the road. We were all seated on the front bench seat, and I was keeping a watchful eye on the rear-view mirror for any sign that we were being followed.

"So, what's your name?" Brian asked the elderly gentleman seated next to him.

"You pesky young people squabble too much over these petty things. The humans have ruined you. When I was little we had no names. We were identified by our scent. And it worked beautifully. Much more beautiful than this human nonsense you have in place today."

"So you followed some wolves from the construction site for the new supercenter, right?" I interjected his rant. 

"They have guards patrolling at all times. But sometimes their wolves also hang around that site sometimes at night. I just followed them on this particular day."

"Why?"

He shrugged. "I don't have many years left. It may as well be me. Who else is going to do it?"

"That's not really a reason," Brian pointed out.

"They are a bad influence on my people."

"Because they sell junk food?"

"It's not just the food. The food is the tip of the iceberg. They tell us they have jobs for us. Well-paying jobs. And people believe them. And they go. And they never come back. Until now. Now we know where they go. They told him-

"Who's him?"

"I can't tell anybody his name. I'm sworn to secrecy. Anyway. They told him they had a job lined up for him over the border. In a poultry farm or something like that. It's always some kind of farm."

"And this job offer turned out to be-"

They brought him to their pack on the back of a pickup truck and forced him to work in the greenhouses. He said there were hundreds, thousands of people like him there. He didn't recognise any of them. They had to wake up at sunrise and work until sundown. They were fed scraps and they were told they would be killed if they tried to leave. He said there was a barbed wire fence to stop them from escaping."

"So how did he escape?"

"He said the people would randomly disappear. Then one day he took a wrong turn and walked into a meat processing plant. He managed to get out without anybody noticing but at that point he realised that he was going to be dead soon if he didn't escape. So he snuck into the river and jumped off the waterfall. It took a lot of effort for him to get back without being noticed. And now he's in hiding."

There was total silence for a couple of seconds, except for the thrum of the engine and road noise.

Brian broke the silence. "Is that why they want to raid the East Side? Did they figure this out as well?"

The old man sighed. "They won't send any more of their people as workers. So they have to go."

I looked in the rear view again. Nothing. No sign of the pickup truck.

Thoughts were racing through my mind. Any niggling thoughts that the raid was justified had now completely evaporated. We had to stop it. But how?