Fox Book Four, Part 2. The Last Part

Michael Gray Griffith

Chapter,

The broom’s head came in. Around Fox, men were everywhere, bending over and peering at him while blabbering to him and each other.

The broom entered again.

Fox bit at its bristles. It retreated slightly only to jab back. Firm prods that crashed into his leg. He yelped. He couldn’t help it. He bit at the bristles, then growled as the broom was yanked out.

As he growled, the men laughed.

The broom came back. Its head was manipulated behind him. He struggled against being pulled out. He yapped his anger at the laughing, apprehensive faces. He remembered the rats waiting outside. He looked once more at the men: at all of them, then sprang with all his remaining strength into the crowd.

The men in front yelled and fell backward onto chairs and tables. Some of the others laughed so hard they almost fell over as well.

Fox saw the doorway. Saw the light of the dawn outside. He ran for it but then collapsed as his bad leg gave. Then, from nowhere, Henk was on him. A blanket in his wiry hands was thrown over Fox’s head and blocked out the world.

In the black, he felt Henk’s hands find his jaws and hold them shut. Other men’s arms wrapped around his body. Hands clutched his legs and his tail. He whimpered as someone’s hand grabbed his useless leg. He couldn’t move. He smelled the wool of the blanket smothered against his mouth. The men were talking, excitedly, but he couldn’t decipher a word.

He felt them moving him to another room. The blanket was removed but only enough to expose his snout. He tried to bite, but before he could open his mouth, masking tape was wrapped around his jaws. It crushed his whiskers. Another man appeared in the edge of his peripheral vision. It was Raul, and he had a syringe in his hand. There was a brief argument among the men. Taff was angry. Raul ignored him. Fox felt the needle pierce his skin. He fought against it, but as he struggled, the men holding him tightened their grip.

He whimpered as, against his will, the world began blurring. Suddenly calmness returned, and on its heels, sleep; a deep, inescapable sleep that saw everything, and everyone, slip away.

Chapter

Fox woke up in a cardboard box. He was wearing a collar that one of the men had made out of a thick, cut-down belt. It was tight and made him gag. The collar was attached to a solid pipe on the wall via a small chain.

He pulled at it, bit it, but realized quickly that the chain would break his teeth before ‘it’ would break.

Then, to his surprise, he realized his useless leg was working. It was throbbing, especially around his shoulder, and his shoulder was also swollen, but the leg was fine.

As he looked himself over, he was immediately confused. The areas where the rats had bitten him were shaved and cleaned, and the top of his head was almost bald from where the majority of the yellow paint had been cut away. His whiskers were also missing: the tape must have ripped them out. Lastly, his fleas were gone. He couldn’t feel a single one. A sensation he’d never known. In their place was a smell of soap. The perfume was all over him. He didn’t even know what soap was. To him, he smelled like flowers. Like so many humans he’d smelled, smelled.

Before him was a bowl of water. Next to that, a bowl full of minced meat.

He was thirsty. He drank.

He was hungry, but because he couldn’t recognize the meat, he wouldn’t touch it.

The room was smaller than the table room. It had cream walls, dirty with age, and a narrow window covered with a dusty netting. The room smelled of men. In one corner was a white plastic chair, and against another wall was the base of a single bed, its mattress missing. The window was open, and the breeze was playing with the net.

For a while, he tried again to break free from the chain. It was no use, and now starving, he sniffed at the strange meat again, but then, believing he’d be killed soon anyway, he ate.

A man approached. He waited, tense in his box, and glared in a mix of fear and anger at the opening door.

It was Taff.

“Well, look who’s woken up,” Taff said, with a brown-toothed smile.

“Given you up for a ghost we ‘ad. Oh, look at that, who’s been a good boy and eaten all his lunch.”

As Taff bent down to the bowl, Fox backed up, baring his teeth.

“Like some more?” Taff asked, studying Fox’s face.

Fox growled again. He could smell beer wafting out of Taff’s pores.

“Argh, don’t be like that. Even with your bald head, you’re too beautiful to bite me. Now, before I go and find you some dinner, I wonder if you wouldn’t mind telling me what a fox is doing all the way out here in the middle of the fucken ocean? Especially a fox with a yellow head...”

Chapter

Over the next few days, the six sailors, all eager to meet him, kept returning and bringing with them some sort of treat: chicken bones, biscuits, and the most precious of all, chocolate.

It was the Captain who brought the majority of the chocolate. Alone, the quiet-faced man would sit in the white chair and toss squares of chocolate to Fox.

One night he told Fox about how he had a dog at home who adored chocolate. Said he knew that it was bad for canines to have chocolate, but shrugged and added:

“But then everything kills you nowadays, doesn’t it?”

With the first piece of chocolate, Fox had been wary. It had lain on the metal floor, dark brown and smelling sweet. Fox had smelled the scent before on rubbish he had come across when he lived in the park. He knew it was delicious. With each new piece, Fox hungered for more. Quickly he honed the skill of catching the pieces while they were still in the air. Each successful catch left the Captain laughing and patting his knee. Yet, despite these treats, whenever the Captain approached him—cautiously, slowly, and saying:

“It’s alright.”

Fox would back up and growl.

Another one he saw often was Raul. Up close, Raul had large watery eyes and the saddest face of all the men. It was Raul who, after Taff had thrown a large towel over Fox’s head and held him still, checked on the progress of Fox’s wounds.

“He was almost a nurse,” Taff told Fox: “But something happened and now he’s here. He was the one who figured out you’d dislocated your leg, and then he manipulated it back in. I told him he had magic fingers. We were lucky to get him.” Then he snorted and said: “Though none of us would ever tell him that.”

Barry came in a few times. The ship’s cook, he always looked tired because for this trip he was working without an assistant.

Then there was Travis and Tony. Travis was the chief engineer, and Tony his apprentice. Tony, the youngest sailor, bounced with more energy than the rest.

And then there was Taff. The oldest of them all, he had a smile that used all the creases of his face, and when he laughed, he rocked the room.

Taff was the one who spent the most time with Fox. Sitting on the bed, or often on the floor near Fox, he would bombard Fox with his gibbering conversations while trying to get Fox to take a dry biscuit from his hand.

In the morning, it was Taff who, with Tony’s help, changed Fox’s soiled box, and it was always Taff who changed Fox’s water and brought him the meat.

He was the first man that Fox stopped growling at.

The last man, Henk, was different. When he finally entered the room, it was late at night and he was by himself. After checking the corridor, Henk locked the door behind him and placed a canvas bag he was carrying on the floor. The bag was moving. In Henk’s other hand was a broom handle.

As he approached Fox, he brought the broom handle to Fox as if he was going to prod him. Fox growled and backed up against the wall.

“Oh yeah,” Henk grinned, his face suddenly alive: “You’re wild alright.”

Giving the bag a good shake, he peered inside as its contents squealed.

“I got a treat for yah,” he said.

Shooting his hand in, he ripped out, by the back of its neck, a rat.

The rat wriggled and squealed, but then it saw Fox and pissed itself. “Catch!” Henk said and tossed the rat to Fox.

Fox caught it in mid-flight like he’d learned to catch the pieces of chocolate. As Henk, in awe, watched, Fox shook it, then let it go, momentarily, but only so he could grab hold of it again: this time around its neck.

The rat stopped struggling. Its body hung limp.

Henk was breathing faster.

Diving his hand back into the bag, he snatched up another rat. Holding this one by its tail, he approached Fox with it. The rat was squealing in defiance of the man’s grip, then, upon seeing Fox, squealed even louder.

“Come on then, show me how fast yah really are,” Henk said before tossing the rat between Fox’s front paws.

Fox snapped for it but missed. Leaping up, the rat ran. Reaching the wall, it kept to the corners of the room, scrambling and scraping for an escape.

Henk picked up the broom handle, lifted it above his head, waited, aimed, then brought it down. The rat squealed as it spun in circles. Henk turned to Fox and grinning, winked. Then he turned back to the rat. Aiming again, he brought down the handle.

As the rat stopped crying, Fox began tearing at the chain.

Picking up the dead rat, Henk watched Fox twisting and growling.

“That’s it,” he said. “That’s the way,” then kicked the second rat to Fox.

Fox ignored it and instead bared his teeth and with ears back, snarled at the man. Henk grinned, then leaning forward, bared his own teeth and snarled back. A few of his teeth were missing, the rest of them were separate and brown.

Chapter

Days passed. Fox healed. His shoulder still throbbed, but he could feel it was well on the mend. The bites were also healing, and the hair and whiskers ripped out when the masking tape had been removed were growing back.

On the fourth day, things changed. While Taff and Tony held Fox underneath the blanket, Raul unclipped the chain. Fox was then carried away. Soon he saw the sun piercing the blanket’s wool and smelled, despite the blanket, the fresher air.

Immediately after he heard the chain being clinked to something new, he was dropped to the floor and simultaneously the blanket was removed. The full sun smashed into his eyes. White-blind, he instinctively ran then gasped as the chain yanked him back.

Stunned, he paused as his eyesight acclimatized. He was on the stern, and the three men were standing before him. The other end of the chain was attached to an eyebolt that had been drilled into the rear of the accommodation section. Next to the bolt was a doghouse they’d made from marine ply. Above, the sky was a clear, consoling blue. He tugged on the chain a few more times then reassessed. There was a bowl of water near the doghouse and next to that, better yet, a bowl of meat.

He ate it like a dog, and the three men smiled.

“Sorry Red,” said Taff. “Captain’s orders. All animals are to be kept outside except when there’s a storm. We were going to chain Henk up here too, but we couldn’t find the bastard.”

There was a blanket inside the doghouse, and curled up on it after nightfall, he found himself wondering about the Womb of the World. What would it look like? Would it be like the sun, only less fierce? Would it be brighter than the soup of foxes, and more nurturing? Would it be waiting for him, wondering where they’d been? Inside his head, he saw creatures melting into its hold: dissolving away their scars and weariness. It took them all, as the day takes the night, and in doing so offered them all a greater, deeper, endless sleep.

Crow cawed.

He was sure he had heard it. Coming to the entrance, he stared up at the moon and all the stars and listened for another call.

So many stars: so much space.

Chapter

The rat didn’t know why he was ill. He didn’t even wonder; all he knew was that he had never been sick before—only hungry. Again he soiled himself, then rested, his lungs panting, before convulsing as he vomited. He had already left his new mate in order to look for food, but as he crossed the kitchen floor, bypassing other feeding rats as he did, he knew he was too weary to fight them for the safe food. Instead, with his belly burning, he studied the piece of browning apple that they were all wary of.

In the past, a few had made it, but most had not. It all came down to speed, or was it luck.

Tonight, though, which one it was didn’t matter because he had neither. He even tripped on his own paws as he swung back to beat the wire mesh door as it clanked down. For a while, as the other rats watched, he attacked the wire, but he knew this was pointless. None of those that had been trapped had ever beaten the wire.

Morning brought the man.

“Allo,” grinned Henk.

Chapter

“He’s been in prison, yah know?” Taff said, as he peeled the ship’s last orange.

“A few times, I heard. He only got this contract because someone pulled out at the last moment. That’s how he lives. Opportunistically. Personally, I don’t trust him as far as I can throw him. Then again, there’s not much of him, so I could probably throw him quite far. Orange?” he said, and handed Fox a slice.

Taff was talking about Henk, though Fox had no idea. All his attention was fixed on the slice of fruit.

Coming forward, he smelled it. It smelled like nothing he had smelled before, but the man was eating it, and so carefully grabbing the end, he gently pulled it from Taff’s fingers. For the last few days, he’d been doing this a lot.

Open-mouthed, Fox chewed.

“Phew Boy-yo,” Taff went. “First thing we’re going to do when we get home is buy you some mouthwash.”

The night came, and Taff continued to drink until he was lying on his back and snoring. In his hand, the beer had spilled from the bottle.

Fox licked it up. It was delicious. So delicious that once the deck was dry, he grabbed the end of the bottle in his teeth and pulled it out of Taff’s hand. Stepping on the neck of the bottle, he allowed more beer to pour out. He drank it all. Quickly, he was not only giddy but found himself missing those he’d lost, keener than ever. Closing his eyes, he could almost smell Mother. Dint was there too. Full of life, he was running around their birth den, then he tripped, headfirst, into one of the holes they’d dug. Fox started laughing so hard that he tripped over his own paws and sent his face crashing into Taff’s sleeping side. Bursting up, he tried to shake his head clear, then swung around and growled as he smelled the presence of another man.

Behind him, moving sack in hand, Henk was studying the sleeping Taff.

“What do yer reckon?” Henk asked Fox while sneering at Taff. “Should I roll the fat fuck over the side?”

Fox growled again, then took a sideways step to try and steady himself.

Henk noticed this but read it as fear. Grinning, he moved closer.

Aware of the chain, Fox glanced back at the doghouse. He considered hiding in it. But then Henk moved closer to Taff and prodded the man with his boot. Taff shifted, but did not wake up. But Fox moved. Coming next to Taff, he bared his teeth at Henk and growled.

“What the fuck?” Henk went. “Don’t tell me yah like him. What for, he’s only trying to turn yah into a dog.”

Fox growled.

Henk grimaced. “You don’t get it, do yah? He’s trying to tame yah. That’s all they’re doing. It’s all they know how to do. Wasn’t for me, yah’d be a bloody poodle by now.”

Fox growled again.

Henk shook his head, then moved back a bit and, sack in hand, sat down.

“Maybe you’re the one who needs to be thrown overboard,” he said.

Now he’d backed off, Fox stopped growling and started sharing his attention between Henk and the moving bag.

“Hungry huh?” Henk grinned.

Fox glared.

“No, you’re not hungry to eat,” Henk said. “You’re hungry to hunt.” With this, Henk stood up and came forward. Fox backed up snarling, but as he did, Henk up-turned the bag and dropped the rat onto the deck.

Fox lunged and grabbed the rat before the rat could even gather its senses.

“Ha!” Henk spat. “Shit you’re fast! Sorry though. Only one tonight. Between the two of us, I think we’re ridding the whole ship of rats.”

Dying rat in his jaws, Fox backed up to Taff’s side, then took one more step, which saw his hindquarters touch the sleeping man’s side. And all the while, he kept his burning eyes on Henk.

As Fox touched Taff, Henk’s grin slipped away, leaving him looking older and thinner than before.

Chapter

After Henk left, Taff was so warm and so deeply asleep that Fox remained tucked up against him. Still giddy, his head moved to the ship’s movements, and floating, he ate the rat.

The virus the rat had caught from eating the seagull was not strong enough to kill the rat. The symptoms the rat was suffering would have passed. Likewise, it was not strong enough to either infect or even trouble Fox. Still, via the rat meat entering Fox’s intestines, it spilled into Fox’s bloodstream, desperate, as all living things are, to survive. But determination was not enough to withstand the onslaught of Fox’s immune system. Yet, as the counter-attack raged through the now sleeping Fox, the besieged virus found an ally. Inside Fox’s red blood cells, it found, hiding in Fox’s DNA, the sickness. The two viruses were born of the same claicvirus family, and these cells became the halls of their reunion. In joining, they not only managed to thwart Fox’s immune system (thanks purely to the strength of the engineered virus) but while their first offspring was born with all the strength of the engineered virus, it was also born unencumbered by a certain engineered protein. This was the protein humanity had chosen to enslave their virus to the prison of a single species. Immediately this brand new virus began replicating and mutating as it did. Deciding, with its communal consciousness, that until it had spread it was pointless to destroy its womb... this Fox.

When Taff woke and found Fox asleep against him, he was both stunned and deeply touched. Frightened of scaring Fox off, he lay there, cramped in an awkward position, and savored Fox’s touch. The touch that Taff knew was the beginning... a great beginning.

Chapter

Through persistence, the Captain had not only taught Fox to rise up onto his back paws but to stroke the air with one of his front paws. Fox had learned that after doing this, he received chocolate.

The Captain wanted to show the other men what he had taught Fox to do but decided against it for not wanting to appear soft and, in doing so, lose their respect.

It was heading towards sunset, and the air was clear. At this time of day, as the rest of the crew prepared to swap shifts, he spoiled himself by having Fox all to himself.

Today he pointed out another ship that was passing.

“That’s another boxer,” he said. “We’re almost home, so you’ll start seeing lots of them now. She’s a lot bigger than us though. 23,000 DWT. That’s deadweight, to the likes of you. Cargo, stores, fresh water, etcetera. Looking by the size of her, I’d say she’d be capable of carrying 1,600 containers. Amazing, huh? You know, a ship like that can burn over forty tons of fuel a day and make twenty knots. That’s around 750 kilometers a day to you. Not like this rusty piece of shit,” he added.

Next to him, Fox rose onto his back paws.

“We shouldn’t even be out here. We’re not a long hauler. It’s our last trip, see. They’re gonna end our contracts as soon as we get back, replace us with a load of Algerians, and then use her to ply the Mediterranean until the day they realize it’s cheaper to scrap her. Do you know there’s a beach off the coast of Bangladesh, Chittagong it’s called, where they run ships up onto the sands then leave them there for the men to take apart.”

“And then, in the midst of our last dull trip, there’s you. The surprising highlight. You know that Taff’s thinking of taking you back to Wales as his pet? What do you think of that, huh?” he asked, as Fox wolfed down another piece of chocolate.

“You know the old Welsh idiot is nuts over you. As far as he’s concerned, you’re the best thing since sliced bread. Argh, but what the hell, you’ll probably be good for him. He doesn’t have anyone else, see. Been out here most of his life... like me. The thought of going home, alone, must have been scaring the shit out of him.”

Chocolate devoured, Fox rose onto his hind legs and begged again. The Captain smiled.

“I tell you something though, I can’t pronounce the name of the town he’s from, but I bet they’ve never seen a pet fox before. You’ll be quite a novelty, Red. Once they’ve let you out of quarantine, of course.”

He gave Fox another piece, and again Fox chomped away.

“Actually, that reminds me,” the Captain said, as his eyes turned back to the larger ship that was slipping over the horizon: “I have to call and tell them you’re here.”

Chapter

“I’m afraid I find it extremely difficult to accept this award,” Sebastian said. “For even though it has been presented to me, the award and its accolades must also go to my talented and brilliant colleagues. Without their dedication and persistence, we would not have this virus. It also belongs to those who believed in us enough to fund us, even when we had nothing to offer but our belief that it was possible.

However, since this award specifically recognizes individuals, I intend to use it as a vehicle to forward the research of biological control so that we might look towards saving this great land from the ravages of other feral pests, be they flora or fauna. This land is a gift, and...”

“I think you should end on fauna,” said his wife.

“Really?” went Sebastian, from where he was standing in the corner of the living room: their remote in his hand as a surrogate award. “I thought that, but, I don’t know, perhaps they’ll want more.”

“No,” said his wife, “believe me, people love short and succinct speeches. That’s perfect. Finish on fauna and you’ll have them on their feet.”

“Yes, yes, I suppose you could be right. Then again, this is silly. Who knows, I might not even get it.”

His wife smiled and by doing so slipped under all his nervousness. “Now come on,” she said. “We don’t have time to be silly. Let’s hear it again and this time finish on...”

The phone rang.

“Bugger,” went Sebastian. “How can I be expected to concentrate if that infernal thing doesn’t stop ringing?”

She picked it up.

“The Chute residence, can I help you?” For a moment, the smile remained, then as whoever it was spoke, the smile slipped into the beginnings of a frown.

“Certainly. Hold on... It’s for you,” she said and held out the phone.

“Who is it?” he asked.

“It’s the Minister,” she said, and sounded concerned.

“The Minister? Which Minister?”

“The Minister of Foreign Affairs.”

Chapter

“They want us to anchor offshore!” Taff said as he tucked into his bacon and eggs. “Why?”

“I don’t know exactly,” the Captain shrugged, as he used a piece of toast to mop up the last of his egg: “You know what they’re like. They never tell us anything. If they thought the ship had a leak, they wouldn’t inform me until we were all underwater.”

“They must have said something else,” Barry said, as he wiped the table Travis had left.

“No,” the Captain said and shook his head. “Just that they’ll be sending out a team to meet us,” the Captain said. “Or not us, of course, Red.”

“But I don’t understand,” Taff went. “What do they want Red for?”

“Perhaps they think he’s got rabies?” Tony said, then took a swig of coffee. “Foxes can get that, you know.”

“Hey, what are yah doing?” Taff went: “That’s my bloody cup.”

“Is it?” went Tony. “Oh, well where’s mine then?”

“That’s bullshit, Tony,” went the Captain. “If Red had rabies, we would have seen some symptoms by now. Isn’t that right, Raul?”

The men all turned to Raul who was sitting by himself, staring into his tea.

“Raul!” went the Captain.

“Yes?”

“If Red had rabies, wouldn’t we have seen some symptomatic behavior by now?”

“How should I know,” Raul shrugged. “I’m not a vet.”

“Hmm,” snorted Taff, “Well I’m not a vet either, but I know, and he doesn’t! Now his leg’s fixed, the little bugger is healthier than the lot of us.”

“I agree,” said the Captain. “He’s as fit as a fiddle.”

“Well if he is so fit,” Raul said; “Why are they asking us to anchor offshore?”

Chapter

“Aspirin? They’re for headaches. I don’t have a headache. I have a stomach ache.”

“Sorry, Taff,” Raul said. “It’s all we have.”

“Bloody hell,” went Taff and snatched the two pills from Raul’s hands.

An hour later, Taff left Fox’s side to come back and ask for more.

Despite the late afternoon’s cold air on his cheeks, the fire in Taff’s belly continued to intensify.

On his way to Raul’s quarters, he had to veer off.

“Typical,” he growled to himself, as sitting on the toilet his bowels exploded, then he groaned as they exploded again.

Chapter

As Barry, inquisitively, came around the corner, Henk jumped up and moved back from Fox.

“What are you doing to him?” Barry asked.

“Nuthin’! Why?”

Barry ran his eyes over the floor between Fox and Henk, but there was no hessian bag to be seen, no broom handle. Letting his suspicions slip, he turned his attention to Fox.

Fox glanced at Barry, but then quickly glared back at Henk.

“Do you think he’s got rabies?” Barry asked.

“Course he hasn’t,” Henk spat.

“Then why are they getting us to anchor offshore?” Barry mused. “Every day we’re out here costs them money.”

“I reckon they’re just scared of getting sued,” Henk said.

Barry nodded to this, then brought his eyebrows together and asked:

“Sued for what?”

“I don’t know... Just sued.”

Barry chewed on this for a while, then said: “No, something weird is going on. Then again,” Barry went. “Perhaps it’s not the fox they’re after. Perhaps that’s just a cover. What if it’s one of us they want.”

As Henk turned to him, his eyes’ tone changed from constantly challenging to concern. Barry asked, with a half-worried look on his face:

“You’re not a terrorist, are yah?”

Chapter

“How can they not know?” Sebastian asked.

“Why should they know? They’re a bunch of ignorant seamen who’ve been cruising around Southern Asia for the last year. Apart from the tsunami, current events, especially Australian current events, are something that happens to someone else.”

Doug Rawlings was a special consultant from the Department of Foreign Affairs. He appeared to be physically wrong for his personality. He had a rugby player’s face, only without the scars or swelling, and yet seemed at home in his expensive Italian suit. In all his mannerisms, it was also clear that he was well used to flying, and flying business class.

On the screen on the back of Sebastian’s chair, the small image of a plane informed him that they were flying over the Himalayas.

“Well, in that case, thank heavens for little mercies,” Sebastian said.

“Then again,” went Doug, as he stretched his back: “They aren’t our concern. Our concern, and ultimately, your concern, will be Fleet Street. If they get wind of this, we’re toast.”

“Well, I told you, it won’t matter if they do. If there is a fox on board, and I mean ‘if,’ then he isn’t infected. Even the carrier foxes we released have died. No, no, if there is a fox, then perhaps he’s an onboard pet, like a cat. Did you ask them that?”

“He’s not a pet,” Doug yawned. “He’s just one of ours. And these carrier foxes you released, are they the only ones? Is it possible another fox could become a carrier without your intervention?”

“Well, possibly, I suppose, but not likely. We did have a few cases during testing, but even they died, eventually.”

“A few cases?”

“Three,” went Sebastian, and unable to take Doug’s renewed attention, he turned to the window. “But like I said, they died too.”

“Eventually,” went Doug. “Yes, I heard you. Oddly though, that wasn’t in any of your reports. Please explain?”

Sebastian’s face remained at the window, and behind him Doug grinned.

“Well, don’t expect that attitude to save you,” Doug added and sank back in his seat.

“Save me? What are you talking about? I just told you! It won’t be infected!”

Doug nodded, with a nod and a face that said: I’m not really listening. Then he opened his eyes, found Sebastian, and asked: “Do you think it could be the same fox those security cameras caught in Perth?”

“No. No, of course it isn’t. At most, a fox’s range is about four kilometers and that’s only if there’s no food. The city would be full of food. There’s no reason a fox would leave it.”

“Not good enough, Professor.”

“What do you mean?”

“They both have yellow heads. Now I’m not a scientist, but even I know that there can’t be too many foxes out there with yellow heads.”

“Well, maybe one of those animal rights groups is painting them! I don’t know!”

“I know you don’t know. That’s the clearest fact of all.”

Chapter

The Captain, finally giving into Raul’s requests, came down from the bridge to see Taff. Taff was in his quarters, and the room stank of diarrhea and vomit.

The Captain, scrunching up his nose, stood next to Taff’s bed, and asked Raul, who was standing near the door:

“So he’s got the runs. What do you want me to do about it?”

“I don’t think it is just diarrhea,” Raul said. “He has a fever too. A bad one.”

“Then it’s more than the runs. It’s a gastro bug,” the Captain went. “There’s still nothing I can do.”

“Where would I get that from,” Taff asked. “We’re at sea?”

“I don’t know. Can’t you get it from food poisoning? What did you have for breakfast?” the Captain asked. “The bacon?”

Taff nodded, then sneering said: “Where’s Barry! I’m going to kill him!”

“Don’t worry about that, Taff. Most of us ate it. And if we all get sick, the company will kill him for us. Now come on. Perk up. We’ll be home tomorrow. If needs be, we’ll have whoever’s coming out to meet us bring some nappies as well.”

Taff did not laugh. Neither did Raul.

The Captain, who was trying to laugh, stopped and became gruff: “So Raul. What have you given him for it?”

“Aspirin,” spat Taff, and bringing the soaked towel up to his forehead wiped away the sweat.

“Well that won’t do any good,” the Captain said. “What else have you got up there?”

“More aspirin,” Raul replied.

“Come on,” The Captain growled. “I don’t have time for this. You must have something.”

“No, we don’t,” said Raul.

“Rubbish! Now go check again,” the Captain ordered, then came back to Taff and said: “And you, you put a plug up your arse and get some sleep.”

Chapter

The first aid kit was kept in Raul’s room. Officially, it was supposed to be in the Captain’s room, and originally it was. But the Captain had wanted the space for a set of golf clubs he’d bought in Malaysia.

Opening it up, as he grumbled about the Captain, Raul looked at its paltry collection of antibiotics, laxatives, bandages, scissors, and ampoules of morphine.

There were supposed to be twenty ampoules of morphine: all for emergencies only. There weren’t; there were three. But then, up to now, as long as no one died, the company didn’t care, and nothing was ever said.

His bathroom was tiny. Moving to his sink, he washed his hands again, trying to scrub the stench of Taff off them, then he pulled open his mirror and behind a new bar of soap found his syringe.

To the sight of it, he partly rejoiced, especially the part of him filling up with that recurring self-loathing, and those stubborn faces: the ones from his past that his present couldn’t remove. The rest of him was silent though, and as he closed the cabinet, this quieter part refused to acknowledge the whole, being reflected in the bathroom’s mirror.

Letting his belt go, he lay back on his bed, syringe still in his arm, and felt the counseling tides surge through. Its first soft, rounded waves took away his sense of disgust, while the following removed the stubborn faces, especially his father’s. Soon he was free and untouchable: his large eyes turning to the night that was falling around them, outside his window.

Chapter

Around midnight, the wind dropped, and a fog rolled in. It was a thick fog, like the borders of a dream. Effortlessly and silently, it ate the stars and swallowed all but a rumor of the moon.

Fox watched it change the ship, saw the handrails vanish, and the lifeboat become a silhouette.

Moving into his doghouse, he kept his face at the door and took in everything. The ship was still moving; he could hear its heart thumping, but there was no Henk, no Captain, and no sign at all of Taff.

His water bowl was almost empty. His food bowl was too.

Chapter

Tony and Travis were supposed to be on watch, but now Tony had the runs too, and so was unable to come on shift. The Captain had no choice but to do a double shift; one he knew would become a triple. His mood matched his knowledge.

He’d seen the fog before. Out here, it was common, but this one was thick, and by the way the bows and the containers disappeared into it, he could tell it was stubborn.

“We’ve got a Russian tanker off the starboard,” Travis said, and then rubbed his eyes.

The Captain nodded. There was no need for a reply.

The door opened. It was Raul, and he was hiding his caramel chin in the raised collar of his jacket.

“Cold enough for you?” the Captain asked without turning around.

“Taff is worse,” Raul said. “Much worse.”

“Do what you can,” the Captain said.

“No, listen to me. I mean, he’s worse.”

The Captain made him wait, then he audibly exhaled and said:

“Thank you, Raul.”

“There’s something else,” Raul went. “In a few hours, I think Tony will be the same.”

The Captain turned to Raul, then he glanced over to Travis.

“So, you think it’s the same thing?” Travis asked Raul.

“Maybe,” Raul said. “The symptoms are the same.”

“Did Tony eat the bacon?” asked the Captain.

“No,” said Travis.

“How do you know?” asked the Captain. “You weren’t there.”

“I didn’t have to be. Tony’s half Jewish. He doesn’t eat bacon.”

“Great. So it’s something else then. Tutt! Bloody Barry. Alright,” went the Captain: “So what do you want me to do about it, huh?”

“Call it in,” said Raul. “Call it in and ask for them to be helicoptered off.”

“Are you insane,” went the Captain. “Fly them off because they have the runs? Raul, not only is it the middle of the night, but look, we’re fogged in. If we thought they had the plague, they’d have to remain on board.”

Travis laughed: a forced, nervous laugh. Raul didn’t.

“Taff’s started passing blood,” he said. “A lot of blood.”

Both the Captain and Travis lost their mirth.

“Call them,” Raul said again and won a pause.

“I can’t,” said the Captain, finally. “So do what you can,” he said and turned back to the bow.

Raul simmered, and seeking help, turned to Travis, who looked down at the radar screen to escape.

“And there’s one more thing,” Raul finally said as both men continued to ignore him.

“Are either of you feeling sick?”

The men turned back to him, and Raul won another pause.

Chapter

“How sick?” asked Sebastian.

“Vomiting, bleeding, diarrhea,” said Doug. “Do you think that’s connected?”

Sebastian hated the way Doug asked questions. He always sounded like he knew you were going to lie.

“No,” went Sebastian. “Of course it isn’t.”

“Really. But the symptoms sound similar.”

“They’re similar to food poisoning too, and several other complaints I could mention. How about the fox? Is the fox sick?”

“We haven’t any news on the fox,” Doug said. “And in the circumstances, we think it’s better we don’t ask.”

“Because you think they might kill it,” went Sebastian.

“I would,” said Doug.

“Well, you’d be wrong,” said Sebastian as the plane flew over the Alps. “It’s not the fox. It can’t be. That’s impossible.”

Chapter

The intercom sparked up.

“Captain!” said Barry.

“Yes?”

“It’s Taff, Cap! He’s gone mad!”

“What?!”

“Look down!” Barry replied. “Look down at the deck!”

The Captain and Travis moved to the windows and looked down. Thanks to the strength of the lights, they were just able to see a moving figure run towards the walkway and head for the bow.

“Was that Taff?” the Captain asked and Travis said:

“I don’t know.”

The Captain strode back to the intercom, “Well what the hell’s going on?! I thought he couldn’t get out of bed?”

Barry didn’t reply.

“Barry? Barry? Barry, are you there?... Shit!” went the Captain then turned to find Travis clearly shaken.

“How’s the radar?” the Captain asked.

Nodding sharply, Travis returned to the screen: “Busy, he said. But you know that.”

As the Captain nodded, he scoured the interior of the bridge as though he was hoping to find an answer in here.

“Shit!!” he went.

Chapter

Fox pulled at the chain. Bit, snarled, and growled at the links, but the steel would not give.

Chapter

The Captain reached the deck. The fog was so thick he could only see the initial steep wall of the containers. Above him, the bridge glowed like a mythical place, and in front, the walkway vanished into the fog and the dark.

“Taff!” he yelled and switched on his torch. “Taff, can you hear me?!”

The water crackled and the fog ate his voice.

Bringing his walkie-talkie up, he asked: “Travis, are you reading me?”

“Loud and clear,” Travis replied: “Can you see him?”

“No, I can’t see a thing. Stay vigilant. Oh, and get hold of Barry and Raul. I want them both out here!”

“Taff!” the Captain yelled. “Taff, can you hear me? Come on. Come back here and put on some bloody clothes!... Taff!!!”

The fog replied in a creaking of metal.

Huddling into his jacket, the Captain stared at the misty beginning of the walkway.

Flicking on his torch, he called:

“Taff?... Taff!!”

The boy inside him said don’t go any further, but the man time had wrapped him in was not allowed to listen.

He reached the first walkway. Squinting, he could make out the upside-down dinghy and the outline of the starboard’s handrails. Beyond them, existence might as well have been a dream.

“Taff?... Taff, are you here?”

“Taff!!”

“Captain!” he heard and jerked to the voice.

Barry and Raul appeared out of the mist.

“Have you found him?” asked Raul.

“Does it look like I’ve found him?! And where were you two when he decided to go for a run?!”

“We were with Tony,” growled Raul.

“Tony?” went the Captain, a concern in his tone.

The sound of labored breathing and the steps of someone running approached.

“Taff?” went the Captain.

But as Taff ran down the starboard walkway heading for the accommodation section, he did not turn.

“Jesus!” went the Captain as he and Raul gave chase: “After him!”

They didn’t notice Barry hold back. His shaking hand moving to his rumbling belly.

By the time the Captain and Raul had reached the end of the containers, Taff was missing: a reclaimed possession of the fog.

“Oh, this is ridiculous!” the Captain went. “I thought you said he was worse?”

“He is!” said Raul, and in the fog his hands formed fists.

“Worse my arse! Looks to me like he’s on a fitness drive.” The Captain went and shaking his head in disgust, strode back to the accommodation section’s entrance.

“Where are you going?” said Raul. “You can’t leave him out here!”

“Yes, I can!” the Captain said. “In case you’ve forgotten, I’ve got a ship to steer!”

The fog groaned. They turned to the voice. Across the other side of the deck, a lump lay on the floor.

“Great,” went the Captain, but as they reached Taff and turned him over, he felt things stop.

“Taff?” he said.

Raul was already on his knees and feeling the man’s forehead.

“Taff, can you hear me?” asked Raul.

Eyes open, Taff was struggling to breathe and then, as though lost in wonder, he smiled.

Above him, and behind Raul’s head, two spirit foxes were emerging from the fog. They snaked around each other, their liquid limbs free of gravity. The attention of their perfect transparent eyes, glued to his.

“What’s he smiling at?” went the Captain.

Then Raul audibly and physically shuddered as he clambered back from Taff. Frantically he began wiping his hands on his clothes.

“What!” Barry went, from far behind. “What’s wrong?!”

“Jesus Christ,” the Captain went.

As if a dam had opened, blood began streaming from the corners of Taff’s mouth, and his eyes and nose.

“That’s food poisoning?!” the Captain asked.

“Of course not!” Raul spat as he continued wiping the blood off his hands. “It’s a virus.”

“A virus?” went the Captain. “What are you talking about? Where the fuck would he pick up a virus like that?”

“Where do you think,” Raul sneered. “Huh. Where do you fucking think?!”

Chapter

Back inside, Raul scrubbed his hands raw before taking possession of the hammer that Barry had brought him. Barry was holding a long, heavy wrench, and the Captain had gone to his quarters and returned with the ship’s only firearm: a pistol.

“Now remember,” said Raul. “We don’t want to kill it. If it is the Fox that is sick, then they will need it alive to find out what the virus is!”

“Then why are we taking weapons?” asked Barry.

“Shut up,” went the Captain.

As one, the three men moved to the stern, and with weapons raised, they burst around the corner and stopped.

“Oh no!” went the Captain. “Where is he? Where the hell is he?!!”

They all looked around. The fog was thick but not so thick they couldn’t take in the entire stern.

“The doghouse!” went Barry, but even as Raul bent to look into it, they knew it was empty. Fox wasn’t here. He wasn’t anywhere. He and the chain were gone.

“Henk!” went Barry.

Chapter

The Captain and Raul, with Barry behind them, kicked open the door to Henk’s quarters. The room was empty.

“Shit!” went the Captain, then crossed to Henk’s bathroom and kicked open that door.

“Shit!!!” he went again. “I’ll kill him! I’ll just kill him!”

When he turned back, he found Raul glaring at him.

“What?”

“Nothing,” Raul mumbled as in his belly he felt a flame burn.

There came a scream.

Bursting out of the room, the three of them followed it. It was coming from Tony’s room. Inside there was a sound of thumping and panting.

The three men looked at each other.

“What should we do?” Barry asked.

Pulling out his keys, the Captain searched through them for the master key then locked Tony’s door.

“That won’t hold!” Barry said.

“It better,” said the Captain. “Now come on, let’s find Henk!”

Chapter

“Can you hear me?” Henk asked as he pressed his ear to his mobile.

He was at the bow, hoping the signal would be stronger here. But the signal was weak: two bars.

“Brian! Can yah hear me?”

“Who’s this?” the man asked.

“Brian, it’s me! Henk!”

“Henk?” the voice changed tone to one of celebration. “Hey, how are yah, man? Where are yah? Are yah still in Asia?”

“Shut up and listen, will yah?” Henk said. “I need a favor. I need you to drive down to Eastbourne!... Tonight!”

“Eastbourne! Tonight? What the hell would I want to go there for?”

“To pick me up.”

“Are you in Eastbourne? What are you doing in that dump? Are you in trouble again?”

“Just get down here, will yah. I’ll explain it all when I see yah! Oh, and bring some dog food.”

“Dog food? Are you stoned?”

“Just do it, will yah?”

“Yeah, alright,” but he no longer sounded happy. “But only because you’re my brother.”

“Great. That’s great. I’ll call you again once I’m ashore.”

Hanging up, Henk peered into the fog.

“At least I hope it’s fucking Eastbourne,” he mumbled.

Chapter

The chain cracked one of Fox’s canines, but Fox did not yelp. He did stop, though, and panting, explored the cracked tooth with his tongue. Throwing his weight back, he pulled and twisted at the chain. The chain showed no signs of wear. But his neck did. All the pulling and twisting had let the collar rub it raw.

And then he smelled it, the distant but distinct taste of seaweed; of sand.

Ignoring the pain, he turned back to the chain. Snarled at it, and then attacked it again.

Chapter

The three men moved to the top deck and, ignoring the bridge, began searching. Weapons up, they checked every cabin and room. All of them were empty.

Moving down, they checked the mess, its cold storeroom, its dry storeroom, the saltwater pool, the TV room, and the computer room with its posters of naked women on the walls. Last of all, they checked the dining room where they had first found Fox.

“Nothing,” Barry spat. “They’ve just gone!”

“The engine room,” said the Captain.

Moving to the stairs, they all looked down.

“Come on then,” the Captain said: “Let’s go.”

Grimacing, Raul descended.

Raul hated the engine room. Most trips he never entered it unless someone had hurt themselves, and that was only if the ship he was on didn’t have a proper medical officer.

As one, they burst into the room.

The long pale green room was stinking hot. Constantly fifty degrees, it was so loud that nearly every engineer Raul had ever worked with was partially deaf. The engine itself, sitting in the middle, was twenty meters long and two meters high: and this was only the top of it. Its pounding eight cylinders dropped two stories into the bowels of the ship.

“Split up,” the Captain yelled above the din.

Nodding, Raul chose the left upper walkway, while Barry chose the right, and the Captain remained at the door to make sure the fox didn’t escape.

Each walkway ran down either side of the engine, giving Raul and Barry a clear view of their respective sides of the engine.

Raul was not scared of the fox, neither was he scared of Henk. But here and now, he was terrified by the fact that they couldn’t find them. Every corner and crevice, every new empty shadow left him trembling. Momentarily this got too much. Resting against a monitoring station, he rubbed his belly, which was heating up, and grimaced as he remembered Taff’s bleeding.

The Ebola virus made you hemorrhage. He was sure he’d read that. But how had a fox picked up a lethal virus like that? And wasn’t it an African virus? They hadn’t been anywhere near Africa.

Then, as he watched Barry move across the other side, thoughts of foxes and viruses melted into the face of his father. And not just any memory, but the face his father had when, a month after quitting first-year nursing, Raul had stood in their living room, ready to leave.

“Clear!” Barry yelled.

“Clear!” Raul yelled back.

Chapter

“Professor?... Professor?... Sebastian!”

To his Christian name, Sebastian came back from where he’d traveled to.

For a moment, he’d closed his eyes, hoping that if he closed them tightly enough, the back of the toilet door would disappear. It hadn’t.

“Yes,” he replied, stopping Doug from knocking for a third time.

“Are you okay in there?” Doug asked, but sounded as always like he didn’t care.

Sitting on the bowl, his trousers up, Sebastian stood and flushed to maintain the subterfuge.

As he came out, Doug was waiting.

Sebastian paused at the cubicle’s door, then Doug finally asked:

“You’re not going to wash your hands?”

“Err, yes. Of course, I am,” Sebastian went and did so.

Via the mirror, Doug watched him. “Do you want the bad news first or the bad news?” Doug asked.

Drying his hands, Sebastian didn’t reply.

“The bad news, they can’t find the fox.”

Sebastian felt himself shudder: “And the other bad news?” he gingerly asked.

“One of the sailors has died.”

This second shudder he was unable to hide.

Inside his head, he raced to form a rebuttal, but before he had, Doug went on to say:

“In the end, the sailor ran, then they say he hemorrhaged: hemorrhaged from everywhere.”

“What’s wrong, Professor... You’ve gone all pale? Not hemorrhaging are you?”

“Please,” Sebastian went, “Grow up.”

“Grow up?” Doug went. “Grow up!” and suddenly the suppressed rugby player decided to break out. “Your foxes were dying in our schools! Do you understand that? There you were telling us all how safe it was! And yet any time it could have turned on us! On our kids! In fact, it still might!” and as he ranted, he came closer and closer. “Oh, but what am I saying, perhaps it’s not your virus. Perhaps this is all just a coincidence. Tell me it’s a coincidence, professor,” and he came within a foot of Sebastian’s turned head.

“Come on! Tell me!”

Finally, Sebastian turned to him, and struggling to hold Doug’s furious gaze, he whispered: “Stop the ship.”

“What?” went Doug. “Even though he’d heard?”

“You must stop the ship. Whatever you do, don’t let that fox reach the shore.”

Doug slowly backed off.

“Sorry, Professor, it’s too late for that.”

“What?!”

“We’ve already stopped it. But thanks for the advice,” he sneered and turned away to stride out of the door.

“Get yourself ready,” he ordered on leaving. “Just in case, for some reason, we might need you.”

After he’d gone, Sebastian remained against the wall, but it was difficult because now he was alone, his legs were shaking.

Moving back to the cubicle, he sat on the bowl and closing the door, once again closed his eyes and shoved his head into his hands.

Chapter

With an expired whine, the engines began slowing. As the three of them watched, and all of them in shock, the engines gradually ground to a stop.

“Captain?” Travis said via the intercom. “Captain, are you there?!”

The Captain crossed to the button and feeling numb, pressed.

“What’s happening?” he asked: “Tell me!”

“I told them about Taff and they ordered me to stop the ship,” Travis replied then said: “Have you found the fox?”

Barry’s face had lost all color, hand again on his belly, all he could think of were his kids.

“Captain?” Travis asked again. “They want to know if you’ve found the fox?”

With the engines silent, the ship sounded like a dead thing.

“It’s okay,” went Raul. “They’ll be coming now, and they’ll bring antibiotics and antiviral medication. Tomorrow, or in a few days, we will all be fine.”

Neither Barry nor the Captain replied.

“We will,” went Raul. “Trust me.”

A silence followed: a silence finally broken by the Captain.

“Come on,” he said. “Let’s find that fox.”

Chapter

Henk dragged the dinghy to the side of the ship. He had already turned it over by himself and attached a line to its cleat. All he had to do now was lower it into the water.

Checking what he could see of the walkway, he let it loose. Through his hands, the line passed until the water grabbed the dinghy.

It landed upside down. Bracing himself, he pulled it up again, out of the ocean’s suction, and lowered it down a second time. As if playing, the swell lapped the dinghy into the hull and in retreating brought the dinghy down, again upside down.

“Come here!” he growled.

Pulling it up a third time, his arms burning with the effort, he watched the swell as best as he could then let go of the rope. The dinghy dropped and landed properly.

“Yes!” he went as he re-grasped the now slack line. As he held it, the dinghy tried to float away with one wave, pulling at his hands, then it knocked against the hull upon the next.

Fastening the line to the handrail, he threw over the rope ladder. It rolled out down the side before its end splashed into the water.

As he ran back to the bows, he noticed the lights of a smaller craft heading this way.

Chapter

Fox snarled as the container’s door opened.

This was an empty container. Container ships always hauled several. All of them were piled here at the front of the ship, where their lesser weight did not affect the balance of the vessel. Transporting empty containers, so they could be used again or scrapped, was big business. This one smelled not only of metal and salt but of the polished wood coffins: its last cargo. Its emptiness added an echo to Henk’s voice.

“Shall we go,” Henk said.

Fox’s chain was attached to the rear wall, clipped to one of the anchor bolts used to secure the cargo in place. The door Henk had opened, he left open. Behind the approaching man, who had the bag in his hand that he usually used for rats, Fox could see the ship’s bow disappearing into the fog. But past this, on the air that was rushing in, Fox could taste the trees and the grass that lay beyond the beach.

“Smell it can yah?” Henk asked. “Well, in a little while, you’ll do more than smell it, my little mate.”

As Henk raised the bag like Taff used to raise the blanket, Fox stepped back and ears down, growled.

“Stay still,” said Henk.

Fox didn’t know if in the dimness, Henk could see his eyes, but he could see Henk’s, and as he glared at them, he knew that even if he ducked out of the way of the bag, he would not break free from the chain. One way or another, he had to escape the chain.

This was why he stopped growling, and with ears coming back, in a sign of submission, he lowered his head.

“That’s it,” went Henk, half surprised. “Good Boy.”

Coming forward, Henk threw the sack over Fox’s head, then used one arm and his weight to hold it there.

“Now,” Henk grunted.

“You’ve got one chance,” Henk went. “Be nice to me and we’ll both get ashore. Stuff around and you’ll end up in the water. Okay?... Okay.”

As Fox lay still, he heard the chain being unclipped from the wall.

“That’s it, boy. Be nice.”

Under the fabric, Fox heard the distant, yet close, voices of men. They were new voices that he didn’t recognize.

Chain free of the wall, Henk changed position. Bringing both his hands around either side of Fox, he pressed him against his chest then went to lift him. But as Fox had done so with the Dog-Fox, he now, once again, exploded. The suddenness and the aggressiveness of Fox’s struggles saw Henk lose his balance. In the darkness, there was growling, there was snarling, and there was Fox’s head thrusting up from the fabric. Slipping from the man’s floundering grip, Fox found himself standing, chain loose on the floor, and looking at the container’s open door.

He ran for it, but then stopped. Despite all the freedom and destiny pulling him out, something else was turning him back. Teeth bared, ears back, he attacked the man.

With perfect precision, Fox found Henk’s face and bit.

Squealing, Henk brought both his hands up to his face and grabbed either side of Fox’s head. Fox bit down harder. He felt bones crack and blood spurt as Henk’s hands struggled to find a hold. Then one of Henk’s hands found Fox’s collar and used this to rip him off. Once Fox was free of his face, Henk slammed both his hands up to his wounds to try to stem the blood flow. Fox could see puncture wounds on Henk’s forehead, and that the bottom of his chin was torn and cut.

Fox attacked again. This time clamping his jaws on one of Henk’s wrists. Again he tasted the man’s blood. He felt his damaged incisors slice through muscle and find bone. Henk screamed even louder.

Fox pressed on. He wished his jaws were strong enough to cut right through the man’s arm. In his head, he caught glimpses of the Ranger’s face and of the young man that Crow had killed. The wrist would not be enough. Releasing his grip, he evaluated the gap between Henk’s flailing arms then snake-fast dived for Henk’s throat. A heavy thump sent him off target. Another heavier thump left Fox thoroughly dazed. Henk was punching him. Suddenly he felt a hand grabbing his coat then a moment later he was airborne. As he slammed into the side of the container, the air was smashed out of him. Breathless, groggy, he watched the bleeding Henk stand and charge. Fox was up and running in such a blur of speed Henk slammed into the side of the container. The man cracked his head on the metal. Fox saw the fog, felt again all the forces calling him to it, but it was no good. Anger and hate were his new chain, and imprisoned, he leapt onto the back of the groaning man. He sank his jaws into Henk’s shoulder.

Henk roared as he shoved himself up. His hands grabbed for Fox but failed to get a decent grip. Fox too, was scratching so furiously at Henk’s back and buttocks, that if someone had been watching, it would have looked like Fox was running.

Suddenly growling, with a defiance in his tone that Fox had heard so often in himself, Henk ran backward and slammed Fox into the opposite wall. The force of the collision saw Fox not only let go, but slump. Before he could regroup, Henk had turned around and grabbing hold of the chain, had wrapped the links around Fox’s neck and using his weight to keep Fox pinned down, was throttling him.

“Did you think you could beat me?!” he roared. “I’m a man, yah fucking idiot! No Fox can kill a man!”

Fox didn’t know what Henk was saying, but even as he struggled to free himself, he knew he was losing. The chain was crushing his throat. This screaming man, whose eyes were on fire in a face of blood, was not going to give him another chance. Even his scratching front paws weren’t affecting the man. Instead, any pain they were inflicting only fueled this man’s grip.

So far, Fox suddenly thought, and he felt calm and removed. So far to here and now... but then at least this man, this one man was in pain.

But Henk was not finished. Letting go with one hand, Henk reached for something attached to the rear of his belt. Fox heard a click, then Henk’s hand came back and with a flick of his wrist a knife was made.

Pulling the knife back, Henk said:

“I was going to release yah! Do you know that? Out of all these fuckwits, I was yer only hope! Now look what you’re making me do!!!” and with this, he brought the knife down.

“HEEENK!!!!!”

Henk was so startled, his hand stopped, and only the end of the blade entered Fox. At the door, Raul, Barry, and the Captain were standing.

“What the fuck are you doing?!!” the Captain roared, his pistol raised and aimed at Henk’s head. “We need him alive. Now back off! Now!!”

As Henk let go and got up, Fox sprang to his feet.

“He’s gonna run!” Barry went. “Grab him!”

As the three men prepared for Fox to run, Fox charged towards them.

“The chain!” the Captain yelled. “Grab the chain!”

They all tried, but they were too slow, and Fox had no intention of being caught. By the time they had all turned, he had weaved through them all and chain clinking behind him, he was gone.

With a stunned, bleeding Henk bringing up the rear, the other three men chased Fox outside.

Fox went to the starboard side but found Travis running up the walkway towards him. With only moments to spare, he tore around to the port, but there were others approaching. These men were wearing bio suits, and Fox had no idea whether they were men or some other creature he knew nothing about. Some of them were carrying rifles, though. And he knew what these were.

Backing up, he turned and ran to the only man-less location: the bow.

It was now, as the men already here, spread out, and the others approached, that panting, he realized that both Taff was missing and that the ship had stopped. Below, he could hear the water lapping against the still hull.

The men had all crouched, and with their arms spread open in a human net, they were yelling at each other in frightened voices.

“Don’t scare him!”

“Close that gap!”

As one, they were moving closer.

“Wait,” the Captain said. “WAIT!”

As the others watched, the Captain approached Fox alone and from his jacket, he produced a bar of chocolate.

Unwrapping it as they all watched, he broke off a piece and smiling, as best he could, he tossed it forward. Without a bounce, it landed before Fox.

Fox studied it then looked up at the men with rifles.

“It’s okay, Red,” the Captain said and went to break off another piece: “It’s okay.”

Fox could smell the chocolate. It smelled delicious and sweet and completely human.

Hesitating, he paced in a fast circle, then edged towards it.

“That’s it,” the Captain said. “That’s it, eat the chocolate.”

One of the men in bio suits understood that this was his moment. He would need to be quick and sure. He had done it hundreds of times at the range. He went for it because he knew he was the one to take it. Raising his hypodermic rifle, he went to fire.

Fox noticed this man’s initial movement, and before the man had even raised the rifle to a firing position, Fox had forgotten the chocolate and leapt over the rails: disappearing, chain and all, over the edge.

“Nooooooo!!!” a male voice choir wailed.

Chapter

The fall was a nightmare.

The water swallowed Fox as though it were a living, liquid, frozen mouth. Submerged, panic kicked in and sent him scrambling back for the surface as the intense cold inflamed his skin. It was all he could do to refill his lungs with air and not water.

He coughed. He spluttered. He paddled frantically to stay afloat, as the chain around his neck tried to pull his head down.

Then, as he surmounted the next wave’s crest, the water allowed him a glimpse of what he was leaving. Most of the ship was surrounded by fog, but the bow was visible. At the handrails, men were standing: and all of them staring down at the water.

On board, Barry raced to get on board the smaller craft, but was held back by other men in bio suits, as Henk slumped to his injuries: his hands still trying to stem the blood pouring out of his facial wounds.

“We have to go after him!” the man who’d raised the rifle, cried. “Quick, before he drowns!”

But the Captain said nothing because he knew it was pointless. The water was freezing. By the time they had got themselves organized to go after him, he’d already be lost.

Turning back, he found Raul, standing away from them all. Hand on his skinny belly, the man suddenly lurched forward and vomited.

Chapter

Fox could barely feel his paws. As his strokes slowed, he struggled to hold on. Clutching to life by fixing his vision on the blurred lights he could see. There were the windows of the coastal dwellings, the street lamps, illuminating the car parks that were dotted, here and there, along the coast. There were no spirit foxes, no ghostly help. The water was the master here: its depths, its cold, its power, its patience. Alone, you were nothing, and with a chain around your neck, you were doomed.

Your last hope was to find an ally, and in Fox’s darkest moments, when, out of his short life, he was most alone, the ally he found was man.

Apart from boats, ships, and buoys, the water’s surface was cluttered with another, floating, human invention: rubbish.

The floating object bumped into Fox. While it was neither buoyant enough nor large enough to save a drowning man, it was enough to grant a fox a chance.

The plywood sign was framed by thicker wood. Painted white, the sign had a smiling human painted onto it and below this a message that read:

“PLEASE KEEP OUR BEACHES CLEAN”

The last of Fox’s warmth gave him the strength he needed to clamber onto it, catching his hairs on the heads of the screws that had worked themselves loose. Once on board, though, a new battle began. Shifting his weight too much to either side would see the sign flip and send him back into the drink. It was not dry either. His weight was keeping it slightly submerged. But if he stood, the waves would make it impossible to balance. There was only one way. With a third of his undercarriage in the water, and the greater soaked top half of his body in the air, he began the battle of attrition.

But it was a battle the water had stacked in its favor. The tide was turning and instead of floating Fox to the beach, the sign was using every wave to carry Fox further away.

The fog took him back, and in doing so stole for him the lights of the coast. Soon he had no idea where the beach lay as the sign spun, and spun again to the whim of the waves, and the wet chain clinked.

Chapter

Despite dawn calmly attacking the fog, the water remained tetchy. Belligerent, the waves rolled, each one determined to be the last. As the sign rose upon each new face, Fox shifted his weight ever so slightly to keep the side racing towards the crest, the lightest. Once on top of the crest, he held his breath as the foam curdled over him, or if there was no foam, he spread out his weight more evenly and used the summit to look at the land. But despite the dawn’s work, there was only fog.

Racing down the rear of one wave, Fox shifted his weight to the back of the sign so as not to have the downward racing side plunge into the water and in doing so flip and throw him off. Then, as the following wave rose, he moved back to the center and it began again. This was the game. The game he’d played all through the night.

The morning aged, and the rising sun put its weight behind the attack on the fog, but it was a weak, wintry sun, and did little.

Fox was trembling. He couldn’t stop. Still, much of the pain was hard to feel now. He felt removed from himself. His body, despite the chain, was now so adept at keeping the sign upright, it did so automatically, allowing his consciousness to loll and roll with the waves.

Then one wave, large and taller than the rest, offered him a 360-degree view. From its crest, and through the thinning fog, he oversaw the water. He knew there were more, so many more he found it funny that he was bothering to defy them. But he would defy them. He knew it. And he found this funny too. He would hold on to this sign until these waves finally smashed him underwater and then used their weight to keep him down. And if they gave him a quarter, he would break back to the surface and breathe.

The sound of thumping turned his head. He’d heard it for a while, but was so used to the sound coming from somewhere off in the fog, that he began taking it for granted.

Now though, in the moment before he began descending down this wave’s rear, he saw not only the dark lump of land, but a beach.

It was not a sandy beach but a cold grey beach of shale. Yet despite its grey, it was more warming than the sun. Its close proximity regrouped what forces Fox had left. If it had been warm, he could have swum to it, but his legs were so numb he knew they would struggle to move. But this didn’t matter, for he knew now that he would make it. Somewhere, out on these waves, even this water, his last obstacle, had come to accept that he was the one.

Each new dark green, foam-topped monster was now behind him and using the incoming tide to deliver him, bit by bit, to this shore.

Nothing could stop him now.

Nothing was left.

Another large wave lifted him up and presented him with a higher view. Atop its crest, through the dissipating fog, he could make out trees and green. Inside his frozen chest, his trembling heart sang.

Wave by wave, the beach came closer, and below him, the painted face smiled.

There were no houses on this beach, and behind the beach, a short rock wall rose to where a car park began. There was one car in the car park and three humans on the beach.

As Fox watched them, hoping as he did, that they wouldn’t see him, he negotiated the final waves. Before him, the waves that were reaching the beach were thumping onto the shale and filling the air with spray.

But inside this thumping artillery, something fragile was living: a sound that he had heard before. From the top of the next wave, as the foam washed over and released him, he once again took in the humans, searching for the owner of the laughter.

The tall one was a woman. He could see her using her hand to clear her shoulder-length hair that was being blown all over her face. She was rugged up for the cold, a thick scarf wrapped above her zipped coat. Before her, and also rugged up, her children were playing chase with the waves. Two boys, they were following the water as each expired wave returned to the ocean, then squealing as they raced back before the next cracking wave.

One boy was larger than the other, and as he stopped, he picked up some stones and tossed them back at the water. The smaller one though, the one that was laughing, ran back to his mother. His mother was waiting. And as Fox watched, he saw that this boy’s laughter was making her laugh too. Then, his courage refilled by her touch, the boy broke from her arms and returned to the waves. As he did so, he failed to see that indefinable quality he’d left on his mother’s face. But Fox saw it, and Fox knew what it was, for he had once seen it in another mother’s face. He had never realized that a human was capable of this, too.

It was now, as his freezing mind took this in, that the water changed its mind. An undercurrent had taken hold of the sign, and before he knew it, the current was overriding the waves and carrying both the sign and Fox back out to sea.

There was no way Fox was returning there. A rising anger saw him snarl and leap into the water. Cold or no cold, breakers or no breakers, humans or no humans, he would swim to and reach this shore. But before he had broken back to the surface, he choked as he was yanked backward.

When he had leapt, the chain had dragged itself over the sign, and one link; a single link near the end, had snagged upon one of the raised nails. On land and dry, he could have easily pulled himself free, but out here, and frozen to the core, he no longer owned the strength. For a while, as his anger burned, he tried to remain on the surface: snorted air, and water, and paddled furiously. But as the cold numbed his limbs, it allowed the water to effortlessly pull him and the virus under. A moment later, Fox’s only marker, was a floating, smiling, human face.

Chapter

“You think it’s the same fox?” Doug asked.

Sebastian didn’t reply, even though the yellow paint that the sailors had failed to cut away was still visible here and there.

Stifling hot in his bio suit, despite the freezing beach, Sebastian took in the chain and the upside-down sign.

A beachcomber had found the fox. He was already in a sealed-off wing of the closest major hospital undergoing all the tests the surviving sailors had had to endure.

Last night, despite their best efforts, Barry Rogers and Raul Rivera had passed away, and on their way here, they had received the news that one of the other three sailors, the one the fox had apparently attacked, had been moved to the critical list. Add these victims to the two sailors who had died on the ship and they had all the authority they needed to close down this beach, and if needs be, evacuate the closest town.

In a few days, the ship itself was due to be towed into the Atlantic Ocean where it, and all its cargo, were to be sunk by divers from the Royal Navy.

Back in Australia, teams of sniffer dogs were currently being led through every leaving cargo ship, and more dogs were being used to guard the ports.

Since both the British and Australian governments wanted to avert a mass panic, no one had been told why, and in secret negotiations, Australia was about to learn the final figure of compensation it would be forced to pay.

The media were already sniffing at every door and crack.

Professor Sebastian Chute, who, to the surprise of many, would miss out on the Australian of the Year Award, would also be forced to sacrifice the rest of his career to this communal desire for silence. Retiring with his wife to a small country property, he would become a recluse and would refuse all requests to be interviewed, even after the media had finally cracked the story.

A story whose seeds were five lost sailors, most of whom would tell their doctors and nurses, while, of course, they were still able to communicate, that it was all because of a fox.

Chapter

Everything was familiar. The Old Vixen, with her son beside her, passed into the earth like a liquid snake. Together they melted over the hidden boulders and descended through the separate layers of soil, remaining faithful to the pull of the light.

Before them, the gravity, which was the Womb of the World, waited with its gifts of releases, sleep, and even the chance of birth. But despite the overwhelming relief, she paused on the precipice of existence to watch the rivers of her descendants follow and pass her. Without pause, they returned.

It was over. All these years of manipulation and lost hope were over. He had made it. His body finally reaching the beach was all that their trail required. And as all the others passed by, the last image she kept: the one she took with her, was of him. He was here now. She could see him in the distance. Tail wrapped around his legs, he was sitting away from them all, half of his spirit light lit by the Womb’s greater exalted light, his other half, darker: shadowed she knew, by what she’d forced him to leave behind.

With her submissive son waiting beside her, the Spirit Vixen appraised Fox, as Fox watched her. There were so many things; grateful, joyful, wonderful things that she wanted to tell him. Statements of celebration and relief. Of thanks. In fact, their language would struggle to adequately describe just how grateful she and all of those, now returning, were. But these speeches she swallowed, for it was clear from his expression that Fox did not want to hear anything she had to say. And old as she was, she was wise enough to know that he had earned the right to silence. But then she had to say something.

“You see,” she called out, across their quiet divide; “I told you, you were the one!”

Fox did not reply, or move.

This said, she turned from him, and pressed against her son’s side, she surrendered her grip of this long, half-a-life, and with a last, long glance at Fox, she dissolved into the earth’s greatest beacon and its constant dawn.

The trail was flowing so fast individual foxes were becoming impossible to discern. If any of the three were in there and passing they would do so, or had done so, without Fox’s knowledge. Still, he didn’t mind so much, because he knew that they were returning.

Moving away, he secretly began reveling in the fact that he was free. Even the physical restraints of life could no longer hold him. Somersaulting backwards, he curved from this to fluidly swim off through the light and darkness, playing, all alone, as behind him, the glowing river, flowed.

Chapter

Crow landed on the branch and studied the earth below.

He was right. He did know where he was.

Looking around for danger, he dropped to the fallen leaves and studied the fallen tree. Walking astride its length, it took him a while to find the damaged entrance.

It had changed. Plants had grown around it, and the rain had smoothed out the Ranger’s and the dog’s prints, but behind the plants, the dark hole remained.

He studied it for a while. After listening for danger, he turned his head this way and then that way. Finally, he took a step towards the den.

The darkness inside the hole offered no clues. There were no bones scattered outside, no shadows moving within.

Still, he waited and watched.

Then it happened. In the darkness, he saw a shadow move.

To the movement, he cawed and wings out, jumped backward.

In a tree above, his mate cawed too.

He looked up to her. She was perched next to the other male that tagged along with them now. This young male was also studying Crow, and trying to figure out what he was up to.

Crow turned back to the den. His eyes straining, his heart racing, he took another step closer.

The shadow moved again.

“Fox?” he cawed. And the shadow stopped.

“Fox? Is that you?” Crow cawed again, and without concern, approached the den.

An animal charged out of the hole.

Cawing, Crow blustered his way back to the trees. There, his mate and companion were cawing in disbelief and laughter.

“Shut up!” Crow went, but they could not.

Contemptuously ignoring them, Crow returned his attention to the den where a bandicoot was angrily sniffing the air as she glared up at him.

“What’s wrong with you?” his mate asked as she found something wrong with Crow’s black eyes.

“Nothing’s wrong with me,” Crow cawed: “And anyway, even if I told yah,” he said, as he shook his head and took to the air: “Neither of you would ever believe me.”

Back on the ground, the bandicoot watched the three crows fly away and felt, as she did, her four pups appearing behind her. Hungrily they sniffed the dry air and peered at the trees, as though they already knew, that despite their innate fears, everything they could see, and for as far as they could see, was theirs.

The End