Then I headed right back to the hunters’ lair. As I sped through the sky, I tried to formulate a plan in my mind. The first thing I wanted to do was verify River’s whereabouts—that she was still in the same place as before. I had been heading toward the courtyard, but as I passed the main reception area near the parking lot, I spotted her there, standing behind a woman in a lab coat and facing the reception desk. I remained observing the scene, wondering what River’s game plan was, but then a blonde hunter pulled out a gun, and I didn’t have another moment to lose. As much as it killed me to leave River, I immediately sped away.
Prior to spotting River in the reception, my hurriedly cobbled-together plan had been to see if there were any domestic animals roaming the building that I could possess. Perhaps pets of the hunters. If I found one, I could enter the animal and find a way to roam the building in search of Mark—whom I assumed would have a key. Now this was all out of the question. There was no time.
As I racked my brain as to what I could possibly do after this turn of events, my mind suddenly trailed back to the griffins I’d spotted, tethered in an open field some miles away from the main facility. I headed there immediately.
On arriving, before trying to figure out how I was going to let one of them free, I first had to verify that I could indeed inhabit these creatures. I dipped down and touched the nearest one to me—a male. Sure enough, I found myself sinking into him, just as I had done to the dog, and a few seconds later the griffin’s eyes were my eyes. I could move his limbs at my will. I glanced down at the chains that bound his feet and noticed a sturdy padlock holding them in place. I needed the key.
I left the griffin—who reacted in a similar way to the dog had, snorting and looking irritable and disorientated—and turned my focus on the nearby cabin. Through the window, I spied two male hunters sitting inside it. When I hurried toward the cubicle, its door was slightly ajar. I seeped through it and emerged on the inside. Close to the hunters now, I decided to double-check my assumption that I definitely couldn’t inhabit humans. I moved toward him and tried to step into his being, but, as I had expected, I only passed through him. He wasn’t receptive to my spirit.
Stepping back, I glanced around the cabin—surprisingly large on the inside. My eyes fell on a dog in one corner of the room. A large pitbull terrier. He was curled up on a cushion, snoozing. He was a guard dog, no doubt, and perhaps he even helped in some way with the griffins.
My eyes continued raking over the room in search of a set of keys. I spotted them looped on a chain that was attached to the belt of one of the hunters.
Good.
I moved toward the dog, and although he was much smaller than the Great Dane, as I planted my wispy feet through his back, I was able to inhabit him with relative ease. I felt almost a slight suction, and I began sinking downward, like I’d trodden on quicksand. And the next thing I knew, I was sharing the pitbull terrier’s gaze. I stood up, and, after taking a few seconds to get used to walking in his body, padded over to the hunter with the keys. I growled and nuzzled my head against his leg.
“What is it, boy?” he asked, reaching a hand down to scratch my right ear.
I eyed the keys. It wouldn’t be hard to rip them from his pants, not with this set of jaws. But then I would need to make it to the field and actually open the chains—all before they caught up with me and punished the dog for my misbehavior.
I let out a low, contented growl, and began licking the hand of the hunter who was still petting me. Even as panic still flooded my mind over River’s plight, I couldn’t help but feel overwhelmed by the bizarreness of the situation.
So this is what it’s like to be a dog.
My life right now—if one could even call it that—was crazier than a dream. Or should I say a nightmare?
I nudged my head toward the keys, groaning as though I was enjoying the hunter’s attention, and then, once I was close enough, I clamped the dog’s jaws firmly around them and tugged hard. The hunter yelped, but before he could grab hold of me, I raced to the door. Slamming my head against it to force it open further, I squeezed the dog’s muscled body out of it and began bounding across the snow toward the field.
As I approached, several of the griffins noticed me. They began screeching, flapping their wings and extending their lethal talons in the dog’s—my—direction. Their powerful bodies kicked up a storm of snow around them.
Dammit.
Still clutching the metal keychain tightly between my teeth, I was forced to slow down and circle around them. As it turned out, the violent flailing of all their wings at once became a blessing in disguise. The flurry of feathers and the flying of snow made it harder for the hunters to spot me. It also impaired the vision of the griffins themselves, and by the time they had calmed down, I’d managed to approach one of the creatures from behind. The same one I’d just possessed. His head was turned in the other direction, and he apparently hadn’t noticed me yet. I needed to keep it that way.
An unpleasant high-pitched sound assaulted my eardrums. A dog whistle, I guessed. Well, I was no dog and the hunters’ antics would not work on me.
I crawled slowly between the griffin’s back legs and crept along beneath his sleek underbelly. As I neared the lock that held the chains in place, I was faced with yet another challenge.
How does a dog unlock a padlock?
I couldn’t use my feet. They were too clumsy. I had no choice but to use my jaws.
At least it was clear to me which of the keys would fit the padlock—the largest one. The rest were obviously too small. But I needed this large key to jut out from my mouth so that I could push it into the lock and twist it at the right angle. The seconds that followed were tense as I fought to adjust the keys between my teeth, using my tongue as an anchor, all the while trying not to make a sound. Finally, I managed it. The largest key protruding from between my front teeth, I crept toward the padlock, jammed the key into the lock and yanked my head sharply to one side. To my relief, there was a soft click. I kept twisting the key until the padlock opened.