Gone

Patrick, or to her mother. That, too, was crazy.
    “Really enjoying my time here, Mom,” Lana said. “I’m losing a little weight. The coyote diet. Don’t eat anything and run all the time.”
    Lana fell into a hole and felt her ankle twist and break. The pain was excruciating. But the pain would last only a minute. The exhaustion was far deeper, the despair more painful.
    Pack Leader appeared, looking down at her from a jutting rock.
    “Run faster,” Pack Leader ordered.
    “Why are you keeping me prisoner?” she demanded. “Kill me or let me go.”
    “The Darkness says no kill,” Pack Leader said in his tortured,high-pitched, inhuman voice.
    She did not ask him what he meant by “the Darkness.” She had heard its voice in her head, down at the bottom of Hermit Jim’s gold mine. It was a scar on her soul, a scar her healing power could not touch.
    “I’m only slowing you down,” Lana sobbed. “Leave me here. Why do you want me around?”
    “Darkness say: You teach. Pack Leader learn.”
    “Learn what?” she cried. “What are you talking about?”
    Pack Leader leaped at her, knocked her flat on her back, and stood over her with his teeth bare above her exposed throat. “Learn to kill humans. Gather all packs. Pack Leader leader of all. Kill humans.”
    “Kill all humans? Why?”
    Pack Leader was salivating. A long string of slobber fell from his muzzle onto her cheek. “Hate human. Human kill coyote.”
    “Stay out of towns and no one kill coyote,” Lana argued.
    “All for coyote. All for Pack Leader. No human.” With his strained, unworldly voice, Pack Leader couldn’t really rant for long, but the fury and hatred came through in very few words. She didn’t know what a sane coyote would sound like if it could talk, but there was no doubt in her mind that this was an insane coyote.
    Animals didn’t get grandiose ideas about obliterating a whole species. That thought had not come from Pack Leader. Animals thought about food and survival and procreation, if they thought at all.
    The thing in the cave. The Darkness. Pack Leader was its victim, as well as its servant.
    The Darkness had filled Pack Leader with this evil ambition. But it had not been able to teach Pack Leader the ways to take on the humans. When Lana appeared at the gold mine, the Darkness had seized the opportunity to use her.
    There were limits to the power of the Darkness, no matter how terrifying it might be. It needed to use the coyotes—and Lana—to carry out its will. And there were limits to what the Darkness knew, as well.
    She knew what she had to do.
    “Go ahead, kill me,” Lana said. She arched her neck, presenting it for him, defiant. “Go ahead.”
    One quick bite and it would all be over. She would let the wound bleed. She wouldn’t heal it but would let her arteries pump her life out onto the desert sand.
    At that moment, part of Lana wasn’t sure she was bluffing. The Darkness had opened a door in her mind, a door to something almost as frightening as the Darkness itself.
    “Go ahead,” she challenged the coyote. “Go ahead and kill me.”
    The coyote leader faltered. He let loose an anxious, mewling sound. He had never caught helpless prey that did not struggle for life.
    It was working. Lana pushed Pack Leader’s wet muzzle away. She stood up, her ankle still painful.
    “If you’re going to kill me, kill me.”
    Pack Leader’s brown and yellow eyes burned holes in her,but she did not back down. “I’m not afraid of you.”
    Pack Leader flinched. But then his eyes went to Patrick, and back, with a sly sideways leer. “Kill dog.”
    It was Lana’s turn to flinch. But she knew instinctively that she could not show weakness. “Go ahead. Kill him. Then you’ll have no way to threaten me.”
    Again Pack Leader’s scarred face showed confusion. The thought was complicated. It was a thought with more than one move, like trying to play chess and anticipate what would happen two or three moves further on.
    Lana’s heart leaped.
    Yes, they were stronger and faster. But she was a human being, with a human brain.
    The coyotes had changed in some ways from what they had been: some had muzzles and tongues that now allowed tortured speech, and they were bigger than they should have been, stronger than they should have been, even smarter than they had any right to be. But they were still coyotes, still simple, driven by hunger, by the desire for a mate, by a need for a place within the pack.
    And the