Fox was waiting for them in the elm grove between two wolves and Robert Kat. He was looking at the tree where Peter Mole was still pinned when Silas and Hawk landed on lower branch.
“Studying your handiwork, Fox?” Silas said.
Fox didn’t turn around. “Silas Oaktree, and Hawk Cooper. Two of my favorite birds. Lovely. Tell me, Oaktree, are you a patrolbird now, or just practicing sticking your beak into even more matters that don’t concern you?”
“Don’t answer that, Oaktree,” Hawk said. “I’m asking the questions here, Fox. And Oaktree isn’t a patrolbird. He’s only here because Top Perch Barnes asked him to observe. Nothing more.” Hawk looked at Silas, challenging him to disagree.
“Ah.” Fox’s voice was a blade scraping silk. “So, Cooper, you are the one running the show. Good. How wise of you, then, to bring me here — use my cunning to navigate the mind of a killer, and get to the bottom of this unfortunate incident.…”
Silas thought Fox found nothing unfortunate about the Council Member dying; the fox studied the scene with a curiosity holding no trace of horror.
“To get you to confess,” Silas said, calling Fox a name. The ears of the young wolf whipped back, scandalized.
“That’s enough, Oaktree,” Hawk said with his drawling voice. He turned back to Fox. “Barnes just wants your statement about where you were when Peter Mole was murdered, and any information you have about the two missing cubs.”
Fox gave his toxic smile. “That red little rat with wings right by you must have been misleading you, Patrolbird Cooper. See, Silas and I had a conversation by the creek before the Forest Council meeting, where he was being crude and unreasonable, as he just demonstrated with his creative name calling. He must have told you about it, and how I was warning Momma Bear to be careful. It’s a dangerous forest.… But did she listen? … Undoubtedly influenced by our friend here.…”
“You threatened her cubs! You as good as said you were going to do it! Hawk, he’s got all the motive to —”
“To what, exactly?” Fox cut in. “To kidnap two cubs, then do what with them? Then kill the second highest ranking Council Member, when I am already running for Perch and am confident I’ll win? For someone as discriminated against as I am in these woods — you’ll admit, Cooper, I get more than my share of visits from the patrol animals — so it’s hard to see what my motive would be to get in more trouble.…”
Hawk was bobbing his head slowly. Silas stared at him. “You can’t be buying what he’s saying?!” Silas was incredulous. “He’s saying nothing! Just being slippery with his words! Hell, he would be good for Perch — just like a politician, misdirecting, talking a lot but saying nothing.… Fox is always plotting —”
“I offer wagers, if that’s what you mean. Why, you and I wagered together, Oaktree, and you benefited —”
“I played only so you wouldn’t eat my brother!”
Fox waved a paw like it was nothing. “You won, didn’t you? And you got your precious brother back, safe and sound.…”
“You’re doing something with the cubs — the Council — I know it!” It happened every time: Just talking with Fox steamed Silas.
Fox laughed derisively. “The real question is why I’m the suspect.… Everyone knows Oaktree wants a Council Perch —”
“I don’t —”
“— and will do anything to get it.… And poor Petey here got the sharp end of the stick. And look,” Fox gestured to the message in blood above Mole. “Silas even wrote himself a little riddle where everyone could see. Of course, a desperate attempt to seem more important, if I’ve ever seen one.…”
“Cool it, Oaktree.” Hawk put a wing between Silas and Fox, sensing Silas was going to lose it.
“You all saw me at the meeting. Right, Bobby?” Fox looked from the bobcat, the wolves, then back to the birds. “Wolves? Patrolbird Cooper? Even our red-breasted friend here would be lying if he said otherwise. When would I have taken those cubs, then find the time to commit a murder when I know the first animal they would come looking for is me? What would I gain from that? Now, if you did want to wager —”
Hawk cawed. “None of your games, Fox. No one’s doing any of your challenges. We heard what you had to say. If Barnes needs you, you’ll be hearing from us.” Cooper thanks Robert Kat and the wolves for their help, saying Fox was free to go.
Fox gave one last look at Peter Mole, the corpse a grotesque protrusion from the trunk bathed in moonlight. The words written in blood for Silas still glistened. For a second Silas saw Fox give Peter Mole’s body a worried look, but the next instant it was gone.
Fox began to trot out of the grove. At the edge, he stopped. Fox’s grinned at Silas, a humorless smile full of sharp teeth.
“I don’t know who killed the Council Member, Oaktree. But I understand challenges. Whoever did this, they’re not doing it to win something. They’re doing it to get at you. And they’re not going to stop until they see you break. Personally, I hope it’s soon.”
* * *
“Ah, wookit! Widdle Siwas is twying to sweep!”
Silas opened his eyes. No, he was still sleeping in his nest, in the oak tree in the new forest, with Crystal and the eggs. But that wasn’t Crystal talking.
“If widdle Siwas doesn’t wakie wake, Mommy is going to give all the wormies to Harvey — her favwit.”
Harvey was Silas were still hatchlings, only a couple of weeks old. Harvey mimicked being fed cough-up from their mom, his beak and mouth huge compared to the rest of his hatchling body. He was bigger than Silas, who though just a couple days younger, was not growing as fast.
It was morning in the Daniel Boone forest, spring, the trees alive with other birds chirping. There were more families around — their neighbors the Robins just had hatchlings too, and their son Rob Robin was learning to fly. The Birdslys, a family of goldfinches, were a tree over. It was unusual for so many nesting birds to live so close together, but it had been a hard winter. With resources tight, the birdhouses were in high demand.
It was called The Projects. Shoddy birdhouses dotted the trees, clogged with moldering nesting material, rough-cut holes, broken-off perches, disassembling roofs. Boy Scout Troop 103 had done a slap-up rush job building the development. Now, it was the songbirds of The Projects paying the price of their second-rate work.
Harvey and Silas were taking up most of their nest — it was small, all their single robin mother Mary Oaktree could afford time to put together.
Silas hoped she would get back soon. He was hungry, and so was Harvey. Plus, when Harvey was eating, he couldn’t talk.
“Early bird gets the worm,” Harvey said. “Early bird gets the worm, little bro. That’s what mom always says. You hatched two days late. That means what Mom brings back should all go to me, right? More chance of one of us surviving. If it is going to be one of us, might as well be me, bro. Benedict didn’t make it, and you’re real puny.… What do you think, widdle Siwas?” Harvey adopted his baby voice again. “Does Siwas think he will join poor widdle Benny on the floor bewow us?”
Harvey tilted his head to indicate over the nest. When their brother Benedict didn’t make it, to Silas’ horror, he had watched as the mother dump his body over the nest. Silas remembered the sound he made hitting the forest floor. Benedict’s body was probably still there, staring up at them.
“Cut it out, Harvey. Mom’s got food for both of us. Just stop trying to eat it all … share this time!”
“If you want it so bad, why don’t you fight me for it?” Harvey started pecking at Silas. Silas tried fending him off, but he had nowhere else in the nest to move, and Harvey was stronger.
“Stop! Stop! Okay! Harvey, fine! You can have most of it! Just … save me some, okay?”
Harvey didn’t stop right away, getting a few more pecks in. One got under Silas’ downy wing that stung. From the Birdsly birdhouse a tree over, a hatchling’s head peeked over to see what was going on. Silas didn’t know his name yet, but he didn’t want to look weak in front of watchers.
Harvey gave one more peck. “Remember, little bro, early bird gets the worm. Early bird gets all the plucking worms. I’m the early bird. You’re the late bird. You’re late, Silas.… You’re too late.…”
“No, I’m … No …”
A beak was nudging into Silas, gentle, unlike Harvey’s pecks. It kept shaking him.
“Silas. Silas, wake up.” It was Crystal. Silas’ eyes popped open. He looked around to see where he was. He breathed a sigh of relief.
“What time is it?”
“A little over an hour after sunrise,” Crystal said. “You didn’t get in until late; you looked like you needed your sleep.…”
“An hour —!” Silas got up, flexing his feet, stretching his wings.
“You don’t have to go so soon!” Crystal said. “We can talk. Sadie the squirrel told me what happened yesterday — poor Pete! And that message.…”
“Yeah, sorry. I’ve got to go.” Silas gave her a quick peck on the cheek. “Lots to do. I’ll tell you later. Got to get food, go worming for you … have to talk with Momma Bear, some of the Council members. —”
“Silas, stay for a —”
“Sorry, gotta go. Love you.” Silas flew out of the nest. His wings felt stiff from the long night. Even sleeping in, he hadn’t gotten much sleep, and what little he did get wasn’t worth a twig. He glided into the grass behind the human development.
“Long night?” Ralph the dog was lying down outside his dog house, watching Silas look for worms.
“I thought dogs were supposed to be social animals, good at small talk.”
“Only with birds they like.”
“Or ones who don’t remind you your balls were cut off.”
“Thanks for that.”
“Welcome.”
They were silent for a minute as Silas looked for worms. The lawn was still dewy. That was good. Still, he wasn’t as sharp as he usually was pulling up worms, and it was taking him longer than usual to pack his gullet.
“Should've heard the bird feeder gossip this morning,” Ralph said.
“I can guess what is was about.” Silas knew Ralph wanted to get him to talk about what happened last night; and with Ralph, he didn’t mind telling. Silas told him about the Forest Council meeting, the missing cubs, Pete Mole, what was said in the barn loft. He topped it all off sharing his suspicions of Fox.
“Wouldn’t put it past him,” Ralph said, getting up and stretching. He was leashed to a peg driven into the ground outside the entrance to his dog house. “I bark at him every time he shows up here. Always taunting with that plucking smile of his, wanting me to do these challenges for my freedom.”
“Your freedom?”
“Yeah, my leash. Doesn’t matter. I choose to live with my family of humans. I tell Fox to go back to Hell. About the leash, though, would you mind.…”
Silas hopped over, worked the clasp with a foot and beak, detaching it from Ralph’s collar.
“Thanks.” Ralph barked joy, bounding around the yard, doing a lap past Corey Chapman’s deck and back. “Good to be off the rope.”
Ralph rolled over, scratching his back in the grass. “So you’re thinking Fox did that to the Council Member? He’s getting pretty bold. And if he took the Bear cubs, like you think —”
“He did! I just can’t prove it … yet.”
“Your a tough son of a grub, Silas, I know that about you. But if you’re going to get Fox, you’re going to have to play him at his own game. You have to get dirty, because we all know Fox doesn’t fight fair. Always planning two moves ahead, and looking for a way to bite you in the back.”
“Yeah, well, a lot of animals think they know me. But they don’t. Thinking I’m running for Council.…”
“Well, aren’t you all dark and misunderstood?” Ralph barked a laugh. “Listen, Silas. I wasn’t there, as much as I want to get out more and get into the woods. But from what you’re saying, and what I heard last night and this morning about what happened, it doesn’t add up. This whole thing with the cubs going missing — kidnapped — and Mole being murdered … and it happening at the same time, during the Forest Council nominations.… I don’t know, Silas. Even for Fox, it’s different, you know? The Pete Mole killing is just like on some of those stupid television shows my family watches.”
“Yeah? They have animals pinned to trees, with notes written over their head in blood?”
“Not exactly. But yeah, something like that. Murders. That’s what they are. Not killings. I killed a rabbit once. That was killing. What happened to Pete Mole: that was murder.”
“What’s the difference?”
“You tell me, Silas. You’re the one staying up all night trying to put this together. I like sport — don’t know a dog that doesn’t. But what that was with Mole — that message written to you in blood.…
That isn’t sport. That’s psychotic — too psychotic, possibly for even Maybee over there.”
Maybee was on Corey’s deck under the railing, watching them talk.
“Speak of the Devil, and she appears,” Silas said. “I can’t believe I’m saying this, but I actually have to over and talk to her. Ugh.”
“Why? Am I really that bad to talk to?”
“I need her to take a message for me.”
“She won’t do it. What, is it for Corey?”
“Yeah. Need him to take a look at the message left at Mole’s murder. The last part of it, the letters were scrambled. Barnes rearranged them into a word. ‘Sightless’.”
“ ‘Sightless,’ huh?” Ralph mulled it over. “Mole was blind, so I guess it makes sense. But what does that have to do with the Bear cubs? Or you?”
“And why was it scrambled up like that? Maybe the killer didn’t know how to spell the word? Hell, I’m pretty rusty myself. Haven’t read in a long while. And I’ve never tried my beak at writing.”
“Don’t see the point in it, myself,” Ralph said, agreeing. “Then again, I don’t go around killing Council Members and writing coded love letters to Silas Oaktree.”
Silas looked over at Maybee. She was still watching him. “That’s why I wanted Corey to take a look at it. I have a copy of the message. Humans are reading and writing all the time. Maybe he can make sense of it.”
Ralph harumphed. “That’s not the only thing Corey’s been making sense of. Him and his woman kept my ears back for hours last night. Going at it.”
“You mean like …” Silas made a forward and back motion with his beak.
“No. Well … kinda. Corey’s girlfriend has been at it, I guess. Just without Corey. That’s what they were fighting about. He thinks she’s been mating with others. She’s denying it, yelling at him about who knows what. I never liked her.”
“Jenny.”
“Yeah.”
“Humans like one mate,” Silas said wisely, “Like us birds. If you still had your eggs, Ralph, you’d be doing the same thing Jenny is. You dog like getting around.”
Ralph named Silas a string of creative epithets that could scorch the grass. “And look who’s talking,” Ralph finished. “Birds at the feeder said you were with Rose Topbranch yesterday. One mate my dirty flea collar.…”
Silas tucked his head under his wing. It was exasperating. Did birds do anything more than gossip?
“That was nothing, Ralph. Like I told the others.…”
“Yeah, yeah. Save it, Silas. You don’t have to explain yourself to me. We’re just kidding — I think. It doesn’t matter to me one way or another.”
Silas felt grateful. At least one animal he knew could let the subject of him and Rose Topbranch go.
“Just if you need to bring that clue or whatever it is up with Corey, don’t mention the girlfriend thing,” Ralph said. “He stormed off this morning … not in a good mood.”
Ralph went off to smell things and to take a crap in a neighbor’s lawn; Silas flew onto Corey Chapman’s railing, on the other side from Maybee.
“Do you think we can’t see you under the railing like that? You’re like a giant evil dustbunny. You stick out.”
“All it takes is for one of you birds to slip,” Maybee said. “Like you will, one day, Oaktree — when I’ll crush your bones to splinters in my mouth …”
“Charming, Maybee. You’re a real charmer.”
She started purring, daydreaming of maiming small animals.
“Word is you got a politician killed yesterday, bird. I’ve got to say, I’m impressed.… Didn’t know a morsel like you had it in him …”
“I didn’t get anyone killed,” Silas said. He believed what he said, but when he heard his own words, he didn’t feel so confident. Did someone kill Mole because of him? If they did, he didn’t know the reason.
“Feeling remorse?” Silas must have been showing how he felt, and Maybee was basking in it. “What a useless emotion. Worrying about something in the past, wearing it like a coat you can’t shed … no thanks. But as a lesser being, I’m sure you can’t help being pitiful.…”
“You could be a motivational coach with that talk. Thanks.”
“My pleasure.”
“Ralph says Jenny has been mating with other humans. Corey’s pissed. Looks like you and your gal pal aren’t going to be here much longer.” Silas had a hard time keeping the hopefulness out of his voice.
Maybee rolled her eyes. “Please. Corey didn’t prove anything. Humans have no sense of smell, and they’re stupid. Especially that dumpy loser Corey you’re friends with. He can prove nothing. He only suspects.” Maybee started tongue bathing a paw. She shot Silas a warning glance. “And you’re not going to be spying around for him, either. Not if you want me to give him a message. I heard you talking with that mutt.”
“I can tell him myself.”
“But you can’t stick around.” Maybee answered. “Flapping off for a full day of talking with worthless woodland creatures, no doubt. Playing detective. Tracking down leads because someone wrote your name on a tree, and it makes you feel important for once. So a rodent was killed … so what? I would have killed him too. Probably would have been fun …”
“Good to hear it from a psycho killer’s perspective. So you’ll make sure Corey gets the paper? Tell him it means something about the Bear cubs missing — it was on the tree where Mole was pinned.” Silas filled Maybee in on the details of the murder scene, and the events surrounding.
Maybee yawned. “I’ll tell the fool human. Watching the look on his stupid face as he tries to chew through problems is one of my favorite pass times.”
Silas flew to the nest, retrieving the paper on which Barnes had written the message, returning to the deck. He set down on the boards opposite Maybee, leaving the paper. She launched herself at Silas, but he took off too fast.
Silas circled overhead, calling over his wing, “Glad I can trust you with these matters,” and took off towards the woods. He heard Maybee say something that sounded like “You owe me.”
Silas flew through the branches, marveling at what a psycho Maybee was. He didn’t understand why Corey put up with living with her, or Jenny, Maybee’s evil human counterpart. Especially if Jenny was attempting to fertilize her eggs with another human …
Animals called out to Silas as he passed through the branches. “Mr. Council Perch!” one said.
Within half a mile of the Bear Cave Silas heard a distressed lo echoing through the forest. The cave, a cavern hollowed in the rock of a hill not a minute’s flight from the stream, emanated sobs and roars like a giant conch shell possessed.
“Momma Bear?” As if it could be anyone else. Unless there was a cow being strangled with barbed wire in there, Silas was pretty sure it was her.
Momma Bear was lying on her side against the cave wall. She scratched and pounded the wall with her paws, each four times as large as Silas’ whole body, shaking the cave. Her roar, which Silas didn’t think needed any help being louder, magnified as it echoed around and out of the cave.
“Ma! Momma Bear.” She didn’t hear Silas. He landed at the mouth of the cave. “Momma Bear!” Her roar drowned Silas out.
I do need singing lessons, Silas thought. Can’t project my voice to save my life. He knew it was risky, but Silas didn’t see how else to get her attention. He flew over, took a few strands of fur in his beak, and pulled.
The next roar belonged in an opera finale. Momma Bear rolled. Silas flew off her back before getting crushed.
“What? Griz? Joe Bear? Is that — Oh.… For a second I thought …” She blinked. The light coming in the cave was bright. She raised a paw, seeing Silas’ small outline. “Who there? I already said I wouldn’t … If you’ve come back to —”
“It’s me, Momma Bear.”
“Silas? Oh, Silas!” She hastily rolled upright. Her fur was matted. A half eaten tub of fried chicken was dumped on its side. “Just look at me! I’m a mess …” She half-heartedly tried shaking crumbs of chicken breading off her fur. Silas tried not to look at the wing and breast carcasses scattered about the floor.
“Come on. Let’s take a walk.” Silas flew onto her back; they left the cave. Momma Bear walked erratically, like she hadn’t slept in a long while.
They trudged through the forest in silence, not another animal was around. They all flew for the hills, Silas thought, with all the wailing Momma Bear had been doing.
“What happened, Momma Bear? We didn’t get a chance to talk … everything happened so fast after, you know …”
“Top Perch Barnes told me what happened to poor Peter yesterday,” Momma Bear said. “That’s terrible, Silas! And he said the person who did that horrible thing to Peter wrote you a message. The message said you are the one bringing my cubs back …”
Great. Now Momma Bear was expecting him to find her cubs, too. The way she said it — plainly, like Silas finding the cubs was as certain as trees were tall — made the whole situation feel real to Silas, maybe for the first time since Momma Bear had run into the Forest Council meeting yesterday.
No pressure, Silas. You just have to bring the cubs back safely, taken by someone who murdered a Council Member. Just ignore the survival statistics for animals that go missing … and the fact you weight less than a McDonald’s hamburger.…
“What happened yesterday after I left, before the Council meeting?” Silas asked.
“I thought you knew?” Momma Bear’s voiced sounded dopey. “The cubs went missing. I came to the Forest Council meeting to tell everyone —”
“No, I mean before. You said you were going back to take a nap. We were talking by the creek. Fox came and threatened us, then left. Did something happen between when I flew off and you finding the cubs missing? Anything you forgot to tell Barnes?”
“I don’t think so. Umm …” Momma Bear said. “Like I told Barnes, I went up to my cave — this is after your visit, of course. And that terrible Fox.” She bared her teeth. “I took Spike and Joe Bear back with me to the cave. They were with me — I was tired. Taking care of two cubs is tiring, Silas. You’ll see when your eggs hatch … The boys were still so wound up from being out … takes them a while to settle down for their naps.”
“Did they go to sleep?”
“I think so. Well … I might of nodded off before they were asleep. Like I said, I was tired.…”
“And when you woke up …”
Momma Bear huffed. “Gone. Gone, Silas.”
“Did you hear them leave?” Silas asked. “When you were sleeping, any sounds, smells you remember?” Silas made a mental note to check the ground for prints. Patrol animals would have been in and out of the cave all last night, but there might be some piece of evidence they didn’t destroy. Forest forensics was about as delicate as a stampeding herd of cattle.
“There might have been some scuffling,” Momma Bear said. “Sounds. But the cubs are always making noise, Silas. You have to learn to sleep through it. When your eggs hatch, Silas, you will —”
“I will see for myself, yes,” he finished impatiently. “But this scuffling sound, was it — I don’t know — different than usual?”
Momma Bear stopped walking for minute, then shook her head. “It might have been, Silas. I don’t know. I remember I was dreaming about … Well, actually, I was dreaming about being back down at the creek. With Spike and Joe in the creek … you were there, and Fox …”
“Do you think Fox was in the cave? Slipped in while you were sleeping?” It would be a risky move for Fox — a lot riskier than Silas pulling fur out of a bear’s back — but Silas would believe most anything of Fox.
She paused, looking out toward the creek wistfully. “I don’t know, Silas.… No — no, I don’t think Fox was there. Just having a dream, is all. A bad dream. But I wish I had them back, Silas. Please, if you can help me …”
Silas couldn’t help being amazed how such a big animal could seem so helpless.
“I’ll do my best. I don’t know what I can do … I’m just a robin. I’ll try.’
“You’ve always been so good to me, Silas. Thank you. Find my cubs, please! You need to find them soon — this week …”
Silas thought, Did I just promise I’d be the one to find the cubs? He sighed. He promised that — and every other job in the forest. He had to take care of Crystal, his eggs … He’d promised to Corey see Grace, to Barnes that he’d look into Mole’s murder. Plus, he had to convince everyone he wasn’t running for Council … Then there was Harvey … Harvey. Silas felt his energy drain just considering it. He needed to check up on Harvey, make sure he was still breathing.
“Silas?”
“Yeah, I’m here. Just thinking.”
“Oh, okay. You were quiet back there.”
“Did any of the Council Members or patrol animals know anything about the cubs going missing?”
“Hawk Cooper did a search,” she said. “Rex Washer and Don Quail came by this morning. Hawk kept saying the cubs might have just wandered off, or gotten washed down in the stream. What a horrible thing to say! I told him I expected better … I knew his mother …”
“Cooper doesn’t think it’s a kidnapping?”
“I told him it had to be. My cubs have never wandered off before … They always come back …”
Silas thought it was actually quite likely that young, curious bear cubs would wander off, but he didn’t voice it.
“Pappa Bear know?” he asked.
Momma Bear huffed. “Who, that no-good vagabond? He probably doesn’t even know what day of the week it is.… Well, neither do I — but you know what I mean. Off at the county dump, getting fat … hasn’t checked in on us in weeks …”
Silas remembered his mother complaining what a bad father Silas’ dad was, leaving her to tend the nest and hatchlings all by herself. Even then Silas wasn’t sure whether his mother was talking about his parenting skills, or about how thrown away she felt. He could still taste the worms she gagged into his mouth, tasting of empty beer cans.
“Momma Bear, what makes you so sure it was a kidnapping?”
“I know, Silas. I just know. The cubs are young, but they know their boundaries. They would not have gone off too far from me. They know the rule when I’m taking my nap: They’re to stay around the cave. But Silas, you know someone took my boys! You have to believe me! The message for you on the tree! I already told Barnes and Cooper and the rest of them all I know.…”
Silas asked if he look around the cave for evidence. He did a few passes around the cave entrance. Tracks ran every which way. He looked for fox prints — he saw lots of bear, bird, one set that was probably Rex Washer’s … They were too muddled; it was impossible to tell.
He moved around the cave, searching every corner for leavings. Silas held his breath going by the chicken carcasses. By the mouth of the cave, Silas found bird droppings by a feather with coloring the same as ground cover. Don Quail. Silas shook his head, imagining the Council Member there to do his job and investigate the case, instead only managing to shake in fear at being in a bear cave, and pooping himself.
Silas made to leave, taking off around the magnolia tree near the cave entrance. He did a double take, seeing a shiny dark leaf vibrating on a low branch of the tree. Silas landed on the branch. Out of a spider web he pulled, not a leaf, but a pitch black feather.
His next stop would help Silas ID the feather. Silas took a little longer than exactly necessary to take off again, then, launching himself off the branch, went to find his brother Harvey. He asked around the forest, and after talking to some of this brother’s less upstanding friends, learned where to find him.
His perfect sense of direction got Silas close the rest area; the smell carried him the rest of the way. Silas circled overhead.
The rest stop was a way station for humans traveling inside those metal and glass cages they moved around in. A flock of motorcyclists were out for a spring ride; a family pulled in with an RV, getting out and stretching. The rest stop was on a rise above the highway, ringed by forest in the back, parking lots in the fron