The Same Place (The Lamb and the Lion #2) - Gregory Ashe Page 0,70
floodlights came on, illuminating a series of pens with rail-and-wire fencing, churned earth, troughs, industrial-sized plastic water tanks, and three-sided sheds. All of the pens backed up to a barn which looked like much older construction, the red paint and white trim bleached and ghostly in the security lights.
Something glinted; golden eyes caught the light.
“What’s that?” Jem said.
“A coyote,” Tean said.
“Goddamn nuisances,” Zalie said. “Hold this.” She shoved her cane into Tean’s hand and grabbed the rifle next to the door. Taking unsteady steps, she made her way out onto the porch. The coyote was busy worrying something at the base of a pile of gravel. A rabbit, maybe. Or a fox. Whatever it was, it was too small to be a pig. Zalie lined up the shot and fired. The gunshot made Tean’s ears ring, and the smell of gunpowder overpowered the reek of dung and livestock. The bullet sparked against the gravel, and the coyote spun and sprinted off into the darkness. Zalie fired again, and then she swore under her breath and lowered the rifle. “Damn things don’t give me a moment’s peace. They’re why the pigs are in the barn every night.”
Jem squeezed Tean’s shoulder. “Is that thing going to come back and eat us?”
“Coyote attacks against humans are uncommon,” Tean said.
“Uh huh,” Jem said.
“But they are happening more frequently than they used to.”
“I knew it. You looked so happy I knew it had to be something terrifying.”
“They don’t often hunt together—never as a pack, more often singly or in pairs, which makes them different from wolves. The attacks, when they have happened, are usually a lone coyote attacking a child.”
Jem groaned. “And what’s the rest? You’re thrilled. You’re thrilled about this. You’re going to tell me that they rip out a man’s throat in fifteen seconds flat. This is why people built cities. You understand that, right? So we didn’t have to worry about wild animals ripping out our throats when we went to take a leak. Just spit out your next natural horror fact.”
“Well, when they do attack adults, they usually do it in pairs. Those attacks are frequently fatal because the wounds are so severe.”
“This is like your birthday and Christmas wrapped up together.” To Zalie, he said, “He does this just to torture me. He’s saving the worst for last. Look how he’s smiling.”
“I’m not smiling.”
“You are on the inside!”
“I just was thinking about coywolves.”
“Are those what they sound like?”
“Do they sound like hybrids of coyotes and wolves that are way scarier than either species on its own?”
Jem just groaned and started shoving Tean toward the steps. “Tell me when we’re back in the truck. Safe. And driving to a city where coywolves is just the next weird gay tribe, like maybe they only have hairy backs or something.”
“No, coywolves have normal pelts—ok, ok, you’re going to push me down the stairs.”
As they moved away from the house, Tean was surprised to feel Jem’s hand slip into his again. Tean glanced over.
“It’s your fault,” Jem said. “You got me thinking about coywolves and insects that lay eggs in your eyes and snakes that crawl up your butt when you take a dump in the woods.”
Tean blinked. “I don’t remember saying anything about a snake. I don’t even know what kind of snake you’re talking about.”
“Well,” Jem said, gesturing vigorously at the darkness around them. “It’s out there. Guaranteed. So just hold my hand and be the butch doctor who will chop a coywolf in half with a machete before it can rip out my throat.”
“Huh,” Tean said.
“And don’t do that either. Don’t start plotting more terrifying things to tell me.”
“I was just thinking it would be fun if we go camping.”
“Sure,” Jem said. “Just kill all the bugs and plants and animals and make sure the ground is perfectly flat and then build a four-star hotel. Then I’ll go camping. Where do you want to start?”
“Where we saw the coyote,” Tean said, gesturing to the pile of gravel.
Jem groaned. “Do you at least have a syringe full of whatever they use to put down bears with rabies?”
“It would be a little hard to get the coyote with that. They’re pretty fast.”
“It’s for me.”
Tean tugged on Jem’s hand, dragging him forward.
The security floodlights illuminated one side of the mound of gravel, but the other side, where the coyote had been, was hidden in shadow. Tean turned on the flashlight on his phone, and Jem followed his example.