Winter Study

Idiot, A

Menechi

“Idiot,” she reiterated as she studied the radically compromised scene.

A wolf.

There was no scene. Dead animals did not constitute murder.

Pet Sematary.

“Right,” she said, and, careless of where she stepped, she walked up to the animal and squatted on her haunches. It lay on its side, eyes open, tongue – pink and silly looking like a goofball dog’s – lolling out of its mouth. A

The blood was from the throat. A wolf-on-wolf killing; on ISRO, nothing else was big enough to take out a wolf. The wolves were isolated by miles of open water for decades at a stretch, and no other large predators had migrated to the island: no puma, no bears, no coyotes, not even a badger. The other wolf – the one who’d left the fray alive – was either very big or very lucky. This animal was a good-sized male, yet he hadn’t had time to put up much of a fight. Fur, matted with blood and frozen solid, masked the wound, but it had to have been severe. The wolf looked as if he bled out fast. There was little sign of movement after the neck was slashed.

A

“What killed it?” Ridley had come. Everybody had come. A

“Neck wound,” A

“Interpack rivalry,” Bob said.

“Could be,” Ridley replied noncommittally.

“What else?” Bob demanded.

A

“Now I’ve got it,” Ridley echoed absently. He took off his left glove. With long, sensitive fingers, he pulled back the eyelids, then the lips. Ridley Murray was unmoved by the wolf’s death per se. Wolves were not wolves to him, A

Katherine was not quite so clinical, but she was detached and professional. After the story of her first wolf and love torn asunder by parental decree, A

“Let’s get it to the bunkhouse,” Ridley said, rising effortlessly to his feet. “It’ll need to thaw before we can do much.”

“I’ll take the pelt and head,” Bob said. “I’ll have it shipped to American University. You know, for research, a research tool. Our students don’t get much of a chance for the hands-on like you folks do.” He smiled, turning it on each of them in turn.

Katherine’s head twitched up, in a gesture oddly reminiscent of the alpha female’s, on hearing the approaching snowmobile. A shadow passed behind her eyes, and she turned away as if from something obscene. Maybe she wasn’t as unmoved as A

Ridley pulled his glove on, his eyes blank under the glare of Menechi

“The head and pelt,” Ridley said evenly.

In the minds of the members of the wolf/moose study team, the island had been their personal domain for years, intruded on occasionally by the National Park Service and other ignorant bureaucrats but never conquered. A

Ridley didn’t take his eyes off Bob for a good ten seconds, then he said to Robin: “Get a tarp from the snowmobile. I want to get it to the bunkhouse before the ravens find it.”

ON THE FLOOR in the unused kitchen down the hall from A

“It’ll be a few days before we can do the necropsy,” Ridley said as he handed a fine-tooth comb to A

“I’ll be here to supervise,” Jonah said. “Keep an eye on young Ridley.”

“You taught me everything I know,” Ridley said good-naturedly.

“Any mistakes I make will be your fault.” It had taken A

“We’ll do the external exam now,” Ridley said for A

“No smell, for one thing. Once the specimen starts thawing, it’ll stink pretty bad.”

“At least we’ve got that to look forward to,” Jonah interjected.

“We want to get the ectoparasites off. They are opportunistic and will jump to other hosts if they can. We’re the other hosts.”

“Like this,” Katherine said, and A

“Alcohol,” he said. “For preservation.”

A

The pelt’s loveliness was somewhat dimmed by the bloodsuckers it harbored. At least none were embedded. Wolves seemed to possess a natural deterrent to ticks that the moose did not enjoy. A

The combs dredged moose ticks, lice and mange mites from the thick fur. The combing wouldn’t come close to cleaning the parasites from the body. They were sample takers, not exterminators, and A

“That’s enough,” Ridley said finally. A