Vulpine Summer

Fox pulled the bandana up his face, touching the knot behind his head to ensure it was secure. He stretched out his hand, eyeing his glove, and tapped the dial. It fuzzed softly, indicating it was charged. He felt ready but nervous.

When they finally reached Farmire, Catriona was eager to show him the school but Fox was not having Dupont near the thing if it was crawling with Wizards. She was not happy when told. She was already in a bad mood, covered in mud and glowering at himself and Catriona. Despite him trying to lighten the mood in the bog by teasing her and claiming jealousy was causing her scowls every time he interacted with Catriona, her mood worsened. Being told to stay in Catriona’s shop turned her bad mood into silent rage.

Dupont, despite her face twisted and dark like a storm, did as asked. In fact, she stormed straight up to the spare room with Absolon and didn’t utter a word. Fox sighed when he heard the door slam. He knew she hated Witches but he hadn’t realised she couldn’t at least be civil when it would keep her alive. It was frustrating.

In the end, Fox was glad he made Dupont stay at Catriona’s shop. Scouting out the school turned out to be very illuminating. The place was small, capable of holding maybe two hundred children, and stood haphazardly near the centre of the town and surrounding by crooked roofs and chimneys. Despite the small playground attached to its side, its steeple roof and coloured bricks, it didn’t look like a place of learning, more of a hospital. Standard Wizards and police hung outside, helping out the civilians who entered and left. White plastic flaps covered the entrance where someone with a clipboard and covered head-to-toe in white overalls and half his face covered in a face-piece. Ambulances lined the small staff carpark, filled with medicine and supplies which were ferried in an out by more people in white overalls.

Fox was surprised by it all but wasn’t when he and Catriona were refused entry if they showed no symptoms. Fox also wasn’t very willing to pretend otherwise. Getting stabbed by needles, blood removed and examined in rather intrusive ways by doctors didn’t appeal to him. Slipping in and out of a building was his speciality. This was no difference than a job from Doe. He just needed intel.

Catriona and Fox got a good look around though on the outside and he wrote down his own map as Catriona answered questions and trying her best to describe the layout inside. Fox figured out where he was going to enter and the general ticking over of guard shifts. The Wizards were the biggest threat however. They weren’t like the magicless, they’d sense when he was using magic and no level of invisibility was going to keep him unnoticed. He hoped Glenna’s idea of luring them out worked.

By the end of their trip, Fox had a haphazard map covered in notes and a general idea of where he was going. It wasn’t the in-depth layout Doe gave him but it was better than going in blind. He just hoped Catriona’s memory of her school life was reliable. At least she was certain about where her whistle was. Witches just knew where their whistles were, she claimed.

And now here he was. Dusk was creeping in fast and he sat hunkered in an alley, peeking out to watch the front door of the school. Police and Wizards continued to hang about but the slim trickle of civilians seemed to have stopped. It was quiet but Fox still didn’t move. Glenna had to do her part yet.

As Fox watched so intently, he hadn’t noticed something moving silently behind him, not until it brushed passed his bare hand. Instantly he flinched at the conact and his heart leapt to his mouth but the brief fear was quickly replaced by annoyance when he saw a haughty, well-groomed vixen beside him, accompanied by a balloon like Sprite.

‘Thought I told you to stay at Catriona’s.’ Fox hissed.

Dupont huffed and turned her face away from him, snout pointed upwards. Obviously she was still angry at him that, once again, he had told her to stay put. She had put up a fight this time, refusing to stay anywhere near Catriona on her own, but he thought he had managed to convince her to. Apparently not. He glowered at her stubborn face.

‘I explained why, Dupont. You’re goin’ to make this real hard because you’re a fox.’

Dupont didn’t appear to be listening to him and was instead very focused on what was going on up the road. It was then Fox finally noticed the raised voices.

Hurriedly he leaned forward. A policeman was out of breath but managing to blow his whistle between gasps. Five Wizards were gathering, arming up with their Grimoires out and open. While Fox couldn’t hear much, ‘Glenna’ was all he needed to hear. She had done as she promised and it was working. The Wizards on patrol as well as ones from within the school, were leaving swiftly, hurrying after the policeman.

‘Well. It worked.’ Fox said in surprise.

He glanced down at Dupont, noticing disappointment glinting in her eyes. He ignored it. It wasn’t like he could actually talk to her right now and time was of the essence.

Keeping low and sticking to the thick shadows the streetlights couldn’t reach, Fox made his way up the road, swiftly and silently covering the distance between himself and the school. He swung down the alley beside the school with Dupont loping after him, keeping his head low and ensuring the police left outside didn’t pay attention to him. Slipping by doors and tightly shut windows, Fox reached the end of the alley where it opened up to the back of the school. A fence met him and Fox had to grab a box to peek over it.

The other side was quiet. The neatly kept playing field and chalk-scribbled tarmac were without police. Fox’s eyes instantly slipped to the fire escape. That was the entrance he had chosen.

Fox slipped over the fence, landing softly on the other side. Silently he had hoped it would be too much of a leap for Dupont but he was quickly proved wrong when something thudded against it and she joined him with a proud air. He glared. It seemed Dupont was determined to not listen to him and make helping the Witches difficult.

‘Just stay out of the way.’ Fox snapped in a low tone.

Dupont snorted and tore ahead, slithering through the grass until she reached the door. She sat erect, her ears twisting and her glittering. He sighed savagely but pressed on.

Just pretend she’s not there, he thought to himself.

He eyes flashed over his surroundings, just making sure no one was about. There wasn’t. There wasn’t anything in there but sickness and the ill. No one wanted in unless they had to so the police here weren’t going to be too alert, which was good.

With quick steps, Fox joined Dupont and fiddled about for his lock picks but, how the door suddenly clicked and came ajar, he suddenly realised they weren’t needed. Singing softly and wiggling his arms was Absolon, his blue eyes shining in the darkness beyond. Fox glanced down at Dupont who calmly slipped inside. Apparently she didn’t need hands to break into buildings and Fox realised how she managed to steal back her Grimoire from his place. It was the Sprite who did it all. For a moment, Fox felt a stab of dislike for the silly Sprite who opened the door wider and urged him to come in. He shook the feelings aside and did as he was bid.

Absolon shut the door, plunging the small room he was into a thick darkness. Only a small amount of light spilled in from beneath the door further ahead, giving him sense of what he was surrounded. Mostly it was boxes of books and utensils; all useless while the school was shut down. On the walls were curling paper letters and scribbled drawings and several lists of rules and general acceptable behaviour. An chalkboard was pressed up against a wall, still covered in the alphabet and the children listed as misbehaving. It was the reception classroom, the place where the youngest children are taught. It seemed this classroom had become a storage room for the useless chair, tables and utilities the doctors needed out of the way.

Making sure his glove was set to turn him invisible, Fox joined Dupont who was beside the door, her nose stuffed beneath the door and snuffling madly. Her ears twitched madly and Absolon floated close to her, whistling as quietly as possible.

Fox himself pressed his ear against the door and listened. Footsteps could be heard, voices murmurs, coughs echoing. He felt his heart sink. Just how many people were out there?

Stuffing his hand in his pocket, he pulled out his make-shift map, eyeing the hallways and corridors that littered the lower floor. By Catriona’s memory, the English classroom was down the hallway to the right and a further three doors. The only problem was, he had no idea what the rooms between him and the English room had. Were they sick bays? Labs? Morgues? What else would they have in here?

He inwardly groaned, all of a sudden missing the Doe and Elenore. Their jobs were to find out this information before he entered into a job, to make sure he knew exactly where he was going and what dangers surrounded him. Maybe going in blind wasn’t such a great idea.

Dupont had other ideas though. She made a funny quiet yip noise and Absolon whirled into motion, slipping his little hands into the lock. He fished about for a second and then ‘click’, the door was open. The moment the door opened slightly, Dupont was out and into the brightly light hall before Fox could snatch at her furry tail.

He had to react quickly. He could see no one but he could hear them. Hurriedly he activated the spell armed on his glove, cursing Dupont and her stupid antics venomously under his breath, and swiftly entered the hall.

Out here, the lights were bright and yellow and the air stank of medicine, vomit and antiseptic. It made his stomach curl. He hated hospitals.

He picked up the pace when a man in white overalls and his face covered came out of a door further down. Fox slipped down the hall he needed and barely caught a glimpse of Dupont’s furry tip vanishing into a room. Coming his way were two doctors and a nurse, all chattering gravely amongst themselves. Fox swore again and, as quietly as his thick boots would let him, he dove in after Dupont and very cautiously closed the door.

He heaved a sigh the moment the group hurried passed and didn’t enter the room but very quickly realised he wasn’t safe in here either. Squeezed in every corner, with no privacy or side table, were several beds. Each one had an occupant, some tossing in their sleep, some out cold but each patient was tied up to a drip of some kind. Two nurses flittered about non-stop; checking drips, giving medicine, taking blood, wiping away sweat. He counted twenty-two in this room alone and recalled the scope the building was; four floors high. Just how many people were this ill? A creeping sensation that he shouldn’t be here, that he was putting himself at serious risk, began to thicken in his throat. Fox had no time to stop though. He was already inside the school, unmasked and unmedicated unlike the doctors and nurses here. It was likely already too late.

Dupont was the one to get him going again though. She slipped out of the make-shift medical ward and was darting up the hall, straight towards the with the word ‘English Classroom 1-2’ plastered on it. The room that held Catriona’s whistles captive.

Fox sucked in the revolting air and pushed on the moment he heard no one outside. He darted lightly towards the door and slipped inside swiftly, nodding at Absolon who shut it behind him without making a sound. It was dark inside, indicating there were no windows, and he fumbled beside the door for a switch. He found it and the bulbs buzzed, straining to power up.

Quickly Fox assessed his surroundings and switched off the spell, hoping its charge wasn’t too low. This seemed to be some kind of storage unit. Tables, medical fridges and boxes were everywhere but easily accessible, unlike the packed boxes in the reception room. Packets of needles, pills, needles, medication and all kinds of paperwork were everywhere; each box filled to the brim and every table organised precisely. But Fox was suddenly at a loss. The room was large. How was he going to find the whistle? If the one constantly around Catriona’s neck was anything to go by, it was going to be small.

Once again, it was Dupont who was one top of things. A small yip to Absolon and the small Sprite whistled and vanished dutifully. In a few seconds, he reappeared, holding out the whistle. It swung heavily and glittered.

Annoyed, Fox stomped forward and snatched the whistle, quickly glancing it over. It didn’t look anything special, just bronze with a small bead hanging from the chain.

‘You sure this is it?’ Fox asked.

Absolon floated around, laughing, while Dupont nodded sharply. He sighed sharply. What was the point in him coming if Dupont was just going to do it all herself?

He pocketed the whistle and made for the door, opening it slightly so he could check for danger. Suddenly the reason Dupont shouldn’t be here at all was wondering up the hall beside a nurse. A Wizard. Glenna’s decoy had obviously run out time. Fox picked up a few words, that they needed more morphine. He glanced about the room and his blood left his face. They were coming here. If the Wizard got close to Fox while cloaked or Dupont, they’d be sniffed out in no time

After quickly scouring the room and noting a singular door nearly hidden away in the shadows, Fox swept forward, grabbing Absolon and urging Dupont to stay next to him. Turning on his spell again, he was at the door with his lock picks out. He pushed Dupont between himself and the door protectively, making sure whoever stepped inside couldn’t see her.

As the voices grew louder, Dupont yipped softly as she pressed herself against Fox’s leg. Absolon sang and vanished, only to turn up by the door, switched the lights off and rested himself on the doorknob. Fox wasn’t exactly sure what Dupont asked of him until the door handle rattled and failed to budge the Sprite. He was barricading it.

Lucikly, Fox didn’t need much time. The lock was old, one of the types he had been picking since he could walk, and the lock gave way within seconds. He opened the door, noting the darkness and foul odour within but had little choice. He pushed Dupont inside the dark and called for Absolon before closing the door behind himself.

He pressed himself against the wall, huddling down and swapping to the lightning spell, and grabbed at Dupont. She wriggled a little, growling from surprise, but relaxed when he pulled her between his legs for safety. She was silent very quickly and he placed a hand on her small red head, telling her to stay still. Without thinking he began to stroke her soft velvety ear as he listened for danger and tried to ignore the awful stench that filled the room.

He knew they had entered. Their voices were louder now and the sounds of boxes being moved and draws being opened and closed roughly echoed through the thin door. Sadly he heard no words so he couldn’t tell if Glenna had been caught or not or if the Wizards were alert to Dupont’s presence in town but the pair moved on without even drawing close to their hiding spot. Within minutes, the English classroom was empty once again.

Fox heaved a sigh of relief and only then realised what his fingers were doing. He instantly let go of Dupont, feeling a little sheepish that he instinctively treated her like a pet of some sort.

‘Sorry.’ He mumbled.

Dupont didn’t say a word, just remained where she was, tucked between his legs. He was surprised she hadn’t nipped him. She was never afraid to.

But Fox’s thoughts were interrupted when an awful groan echoed about the room, low and gurgling. He stiffened instantly, revving up the glove and pushing himself onto his knees to tower over Dupont protectively. Dupont yipped but Absolon didn’t react instantly. He was in a tight ball, shivering in the air, hiding himself. He was fearful, Fox realised. Did the Wizard upset him that much?

Dupont yipped again and this time Absolon reacted. A moment later, an ugly thick light filled the room as the old bulbs heated up.

Instantly Fox went cold. This room, an art classroom by the varying sculptures and paintings littering the shelves and walls, was filled the beds. These beds though were different. No drip was beside it, no bedpan and no nurse was flittering amongst the patients while flies seemed to roam around in great numbers. The bedsheets too were different. Instead of tucked around the patient to keep them warm, these sheets were thinner and just strewn over them; head to toe.

Fox stood to get a better look, covering his mouth as his stomach churned. The smell was getting worse the longer he stayed. There were seven of them in total, each one space out. Beside them was a separate table and tray covered in various cutting utensils. The type to cut into bodies and root around.

As Fox noticed the tiny little tags on the right big toe of every ‘patient’, he realised exactly what this art classroom had been turned into. A morgue.

He suddenly wanted out. Very badly. He hated the dead. He stole for a living, not dealt with the dead. He was bad with corpses. It made him think of his dad too much.

But, just as he turned to go, that thick, gurgling groan echoed about the room. Fox stiffened and glanced about the room. No living thing was in here, just the seven corpses. And then the middle corpse moved.

Fox froze as he watched its head turn beneath the sheets. Another gurgle emitted from it. He was pale now. Why was a dead man gurgling? Fox shook his head, urging fear to leave and reason to enter. Dead men don’t gurgle. Living men do.

‘Stay here, Dupont.’

Dupont didn’t make a squeak, just looked at him.

Feeling bad for the man’s face to be covered, Fox shuffled forward, making sure his bandana was secure around his face. Very carefully, Fox sidled up beside the groaning man. The closer he got, the worse the rotting stench grew, to the point Fox had to put a hand over his nose and breathe through his mouth. With hesitant motions, Fox pinched the sheet and tossed it aside.

He instantly regretted it.

A foul cloud escaped the sheet, hitting him square in the face and making him recoil as his stomach savagely curled. With water in his eyes, he turned to look at the man. The blood left his face.

The man, or what was left of him, was decaying. His eyes had sunken into the depths of his skulls, his cheeks peeled away so his swollen tongue lolled between his gaping teeth. His arms, which were torn from flesh and his slick, red muscles poking through, were bound to the table, stopping his feeble attempts from rising. Flies flittered about, fussing over the flesh, feasting and breeding, while maggots sat in several carved-out pockets of his throat.

And yet the man groaned. He made noise. His congealed eyes moved. The remained of his lips twitched, trying to form words.

Fox had never seen anything like and instantly it was burned to memory. A fetid corpse, still moving, still talking.

His horrified eyes instantly fixated onto Dupont. ‘What the bloody hell is this?’ He almost shouted, barely managing to keep his tone under control.

Dupont was still, her honey eyes wide with horror, her ears flat. She glanced at him. She knew. She just couldn’t say.

With one last glance at the corpse, Fox realised they couldn’t stay. This plague was more than just vomiting and diarrhoea, that was obvious, and he couldn’t allow either himself nor Dupont to contract it. The thought of turning into this mess, of watching Dupont wither away and die yet continue to move; he couldn’t stand it.

He turned to the door, switched on the invisibility spell, and slipped out, hurrying Dupont after him. Absolon was already across the English classroom, fussing about the door and checking for danger, eager to get away.

The escape was swift. No Wizard prowled in doors and most of the staff were now asleep. Fox and Dupont were out of the school and over the fence in no time but it felt like hours to Fox. Every step, he’d think of what he’d just witnessed. Every minute, he’d think of that happening to Dupont. He glanced down at her furry shape loping beside him, keeping close to his ankles. Her haughty expression, honey eyes and soft lips came to mind instantly. He couldn’t let that happen to her. It was a mistake coming here. He’d much rather risk being caught by the Wizards than contracting that plague.

They fled into the darkness of the alley, hurrying back to Catriona’s. The moment he stepped inside her shop, with the pleasant smells and the fresh lights, wasn’t a moment too soon.

He heaved in the fresh air, trying to get rid of the toxic gas that had entered it from the makeshift morgue. They were safe and away from that undead man. They had the whistle. Everything went fine. Peachy. He calmed at the thought and fished out the whistle, the reason he risked his life.

He glanced at where he had left Catriona, reading on the sofa beside her shop window. She was still there, sleeping peacefully now; her golden hair splayed pretty over her throat and face. Not knowing what else to do with the whistle, he stepped forward, intending to wake her up, but Dupont rushed away, nipping at his ankles to get him to stop.

‘What?’ He snapped, stressed and highly-strung.

She didn’t say anything. She just stared with warning at him with her large honey eyes. Her whole demenore screamed at him not to.

Don’t give Catriona that whistle, she was saying.

Fox glanced at the whistle then back at Catriona, who snuffled sleepily but remained undisturbed. He though back to that undead man. No natural illness caused that. This plague wasn’t normal. Something magical was causing it.

He glanced back down at Dupont. He knew she suspected Catriona. She had her whistle confiscated and a magical plague was taking the town. Suddenly Fox wasn’t so willing to put his trust in the beautiful Witch and her giant companion.

He tucked it in his pocket, noting a relieved sigh seemed to escape Dupont’s snout. He snuck up stairs, trying his best not to disturb Catriona, and entered the bedroom he and Dupont claimed. He closed the door behind Dupont, locked it and dragged the dresser to rest before it, just to make sure that shambling corpse wouldn’t come find him if it escaped its bondage.

Grabbing a blanket, he wrapped himself up and tucked himself in the corner. He’d sleep and deal with it tomorrow. He’d hear Catriona out. Maybe she had nothing to do with it but he wasn’t going to hand over the whistle until he was satisfied what she had to say about the groaning corpse tied to a slab and what this seized whistle did.

He closed his eyes for a moment, intending to sleep, until he realised Dupont was in the middle of the room, watching him. She made no move to go to the bed to sleep where Absolon was snoring and whistling. She just waited. He knew what she was waiting for. He knew she was curling up next to him whenever he was asleep. He wasn’t stupid.

Making enough room in his legs, Fox patted his thigh. ‘Come on then, your ladyship.’

Dupont stiffened and her eyes narrowed haughtily. She turned her back to him and curled up where she was, refusing to look at him. He shrugged and closed his eyes; his exhausted brain switching off within seconds.

And, just as he predicted, he woke briefly when something warm and furry curled up between his legs. He sleepily glanced down, noting how content Dupont looked and smiled to himself, feeling happy warmth spreading through him, and returned to sleep swiftly, sleeping much to solidly for the nightmare he’d witnessed to haunt him in his sleep.