looked at Grace.
she replied.
He licked the Hope pup’s ear since that was all he could reach.
When the Hope pup finally stopped crying, she washed her face in the stream while Jackson rolled in the grass to clean his fur. Then he and Grace led their prophet pup back to the Wolfgard cabin. He went in first and removed the terrible drawings, hiding them in the kitchen area until he could decide what to do with them.
Grace came in next. Together they opened the windows in the bedroom and bathroom and washed the pee smell off the floor as best they could.
Leaving the Hope pup dozing on the porch with the rest of the pack guarding her, Jackson and Grace trotted to the communications cabin at the edge of the settlement. The Hawk who had been answering the phone looked at them with sad eyes as he handed a message to Jackson after the two Wolves shifted to human form.
“Who is it from?” Grace asked.
“Vlad Sanguinati,” Jackson replied. “Simon and the Lakeside pack are all right.”
“Vlad asked about you,” the Hawk said. “I told him the Sweetwater pack was all right too. I’ve been calling the number like you asked me to, but there’s no answer.”
“I already know part of the answer. The Hope pup drew a picture of it.” But he’d been hoping Joe had received the warning in time.
Grace sucked in a breath.
“Phone is working, then not working,” the Hawk said.
“It might be like that for a while.” Nothing he could do right now. Nothing any of them could do right now except wait. “We’ll be at the Wolfgard cabin if any more messages come in.”
Grace waited until they were trotting back to the cabin.
How many packs had received a warning to run, to hide, to flee from the evil humans? How many of the Wolfgard were still out there?
They were safe. For tonight, all the terra indigene in the settlement were safe.
CHAPTER 37
Firesday, Juin 22
Simon felt the exact moment when Meg relaxed.
It’s over, he thought. At least for us.
He’d lost track of time, had no sense of how long they’d been hiding in that dip of land. Since he didn’t have to worry about Meg now, he considered the other problem.
he asked Blair.
He considered the next, and more immediate, problem.
Simon sighed, then moved his head, resting it against Meg’s back. It was the only part of her that smelled more like Meg and less like vomit.
• • •
Monty gave Kowalski full marks for his driving skills, but he still wished cars had brake pedals on the passenger side. As it was, Kowalski whiskered by the patrol car assigned to block the intersection of Parkside and Crowfield avenues.
They would have been heading for the Courtyard earlier if Captain Burke hadn’t called everyone in for emergency assignments. No one, including Burke, was sure of what was going on. But after Burke received a call from Pete Denby, he had placed an urgent call to Agent Greg O’Sullivan, who, in turn, must have called Governor Hannigan. Despite the slim amount of information available, the governor had issued emergency orders that amounted to an ultimatum for the entire Northeast Region: block access to every Courtyard; block every street that led to a settlement controlled by the terra indigene; arrest anyone who tried to get around the barriers. Trains were detained at whatever station they were in. No travel of any kind between towns until further notice. The severest measures allowed by law would be taken against anyone who attacked, or attempted to attack, any of the terra indigene or any human who worked with the terra indigene.
Hannigan’s orders were a declaration of war on the Humans First and Last movement, and he expected the police departments in every city to uphold that declaration. And any officer who couldn’t, or wouldn’t, obey those orders was expected to resign immediately.
Plenty of speculation but no explanations. And no one on Monty’s team had told anyone outside the “police pack” about the frightened phone calls that had