Crissa's Mate

Chapter Fifty

When Crissa met the conservation club in the parking lot she was enthusiastically greeted by Becky and a few others who had remembered seeing her at the meeting. Everyone looked ready for the outing with backpacks, heavy jackets and hiking shoes. Becky looked at her stainless-steel diver's watch and addressed the group informally.

"We'll just wait a few more minutes for anyone else to show up tonight. I see we have around thirteen of you here counting our newest member, Crissa."

Crissa nodded at the small crowd and then looked down at the asphalt, feeling an old familiar self-consciousness return to her.

"Now most of you are aware," Becky continued, placing a portable recording device in her pocket, "of the rare occurrence of a male Gray coming into the city two days ago. And the fact that the clan's vocalizations have been more frequent and intense over these past nights."

The group coalesced around her for more information.

"We'll be looking for any evidence of the cause of this, assuming we can get in close enough to the pack. They should be out hunting as the moon has held up tonight. Does anyone have any questions or concerns before we go up there in our vehicles?"

The club's attendance had seven females and six males. Three of the women were older, perhaps middle age like Becky, and the other three were Crissa's age, obviously students from the university. Of the males, all six were younger, though two appeared to be possibly graduate students. One of them took the opportunity to speak up.

"Becky, I just wanted to put out the message here . . . that whatever is causing this agitated activity up on the mountain, could be something serious enough to cause more aggressive reactions in the wolf population these nights."

"That's exactly right," Becky added, nodding her head.

The bearded student went on. "So, we can't assume they'll be as shy or allusive as we've experienced in our observations of the past, Right people? There might be a real danger out there if any of us become isolated or appear to be encroaching upon them."

The group silently looked into each other's faces for agreement.

"None of us," he went on, "are armed . . . and that's fine with me. But I'm just saying, take care everybody. These are, after all, animals capable of doing some real harm."

The admonition quickly brought back images of David's and Julie's torn up legs and arms back in Germany. And the bloody remnants of their tattered clothing removed from their pale bodies to dress their wounds.

"So . . . is everyone ready to roll?" Becky asked, looking at her watch once more.

"Let's do it!" came the words enthusiastically from one of the young males.

The crowd split into three groups and piled into the cars designated for the trip. And soon they left the campus, were caravaning across the peninsula, and across the metropolis of Vancouver. Thirty minutes later, the three cars had crossed over the freeway bridge to the northern suburbs and were climbing up beyond the last congested streets of the city. Though the moon was almost at its zenith, casting a bright pall over the rugged countryside, it was still night and foreboding as the houselights and last streetlights of civilization rolled by and out of sight.

Crissa looked out the window of the car she was in with Becky and could see in the distance the very road which led to her parents' small neighborhood, one of the last before total desolation and only shadowy mountains in the distance.

As Becky in the lead car, drove with her high beams on, she soon lowered the lights and slowed down, driving cautiously so as not to be too intrusive. She then turned off at a dirt road, one of many, which she seemed to know well. The other cars followed, with a reduced speed and as the road then wound through several stands of pine trees, ever rising into the foothills of the forests. Crissa estimated that her family's vacation cabin was not far away on yet another parallel road somewhere.