The Wild Ones (Chapter 7)

In the short amount of time it took to arrive at the ranger station, Bill had fallen asleep. Shutting off the engine, Wendy glanced sideways at Bill. The younger ranger’s eyes were closed, having fallen asleep only minutes after Wendy had found him. Though she wished he could carry on sleeping, Wendy knew there was still work to be done at the station. Bill still had to tell her what happened so she could file a report. Yes, it was tedious and Bill hated paperwork, but regardless of their feelings on the matter it had to be done.

With a sigh, Wendy leaned over and put a hand on Bill’s shoulder, speaking softly as she gently shook him.

“Bill. Hey, Bill.”

Almost instantly Bill was awake, jerking upright as though he’d received a mild electric current. Wendy pulled back from him, allowing Bill to where he was. A moment later, Bill seemed to come back to himself, and he looked at Wendy.

“Hey.” Wendy smiled at him. “Drive’s over, sleepyhead.”

“Oh.”

Bill glanced out the window, staring at the lights of the ranger’s station. For a few seconds Bill was silent, but then he dragged a hand over his face, rubbing at the bridge of his nose as he sighed.

“Guess we’d better head in,” he said quietly. “The sooner we do, the sooner I can tell you what happened so you can file the report. If we’re lucky we’ll both still be able to get a few hours’ sleep tonight.”

Wendy nodded silently, and they both stepped out of the jeep. Moments later they were stepping at the door of the station; Bill pausing momentarily to hold the door for Wendy before entering the building himself.

To their surprise, the station was empty. Only Michael was still at his desk, staring into the contents of his coffee mug. When he saw Wendy and Bill walk in he stood up, relief rushing into his face.

“You’re back!” he said to Wendy. But then he looked worried when he saw Bill’s face. “Jesus Christ, Bill. What happened?”

“What, this?” Bill asked, pointing to his bruises. “It’s nothing.” He forced himself to smile. “Honestly, you should have seen the other guys.”

Michael and Wendy shared a look of mingled amusement and annoyance. Typical. Of course Bill would try to make light of something like this. He always did. Deciding to change the subject, Wendy spoke to Michael.

“Where’d everyone go?” she asked. “It’s not like Jacob to miss a chance to give us an earful for this kind of thing.”

“Oh, I wouldn’t worry about that.” Michael was trying his best not to smile, but Bill and Wendy could see his eyes were sparkling with amusement. “Sean and the others took him down to the pub shortly after you went to find Bill. Drinks are half off this evening. And we all know how much Jacob likes to drink.”

“Well that’s an understatement!” said Bill.

That was all it took for them to start laughing. Because the fact of the matter was, Jacob Temple was completely incapable of holding down more than a few shots when it came to liquor - yet he always claimed otherwise. It was not uncommon for him to enter drinking contests when off-duty, and the result was always the same. Jacob would end up face down on the floor; with no memory at all of the events that transpired the previous day - a fact which, over time, the rangers had learned to use to their advantage.

“Yeah. I think it’s safe to say you don’t have to file a report!” Michael said. “I doubt he’ll anything by tomorrow.”

“Let’s hope not!” Bill answered.

He had intended it as a joke, but when the smile vanished from Wendy’s face, Bill knew he’d made a mistake. All at once her expression became worried again. And of course, she asked Bill the question he’d hoped to avoid. Michael was quick to notice this as well, and he glanced awkwardly at the contents of his coffee mug again.

“What happened out there, Bill?”

Bill hesitated, unsure of how to begin. He could either tell Wendy and Michael the truth - or he could lie to them. Well, maybe it wouldn’t be a lie, but he certainly couldn’t tell them the full story. After all, there was no way in Hell they’d believe it if he said the poachers he’d seen earlier had caught a White Cervitaur of all things.

But maybe it would seem a bit more believable if he said it was a White Stag instead? Sure, it sounded ridiculous too, but still far more plausible than what actually happened.

Well, it was worth a shot anyway. There was no sense in putting it off, and he’d have to give them an answer sooner or later. They were his friends, and he owed them that much.

“Okay,” he said. “But you may find some of what I tell you hard to believe. Hell - I’m having a hard time believing it, and I was there.”

“Why?” Michael and Wendy said together. “What did you see?”

Bill stared at both of them. Wendy could tell that he was hesitating, perhaps wondering if they would laugh at whatever it was he was going to say.

“The poachers caught something,” Bill said. “At first I thought it was a regular deer, but it wasn’t.”

Wendy raised her eyebrows, and she could see that Michael was equally intrigued as she was.

“So what was it, then?”

“It was a White Stag.”