Page 8

He’d gone to it, intending to help but the wire had been helplessly tangled. The only way to get it free was to try and grab for the fox’s leg and–

The animal had lunged at him then, teeth snapping as it snarled. Will yelped and jumped away, falling on his ass, afraid of getting bitten. It had bared its teeth at him, untrusting. Ready to bite if it needed to defend itself.

Will made another two attempts after that, but every time the fox had snapped at him, and Will’s fear had held him back. In the end, he’d given up. He’d turned and continued on to school, telling himself that someone else would come along and save it.

But no one else had. When Will had come home later along the same route, he’d found the fox there, tangled and dead.

He did then what he should’ve done earlier. Using his flannel shirt, he’d carefully extricated the body from the wire. It had been unnaturally stiff and cool in his arms. The lifeless, small body all wrong.

Will had taken it into the woods then and given it a proper burial. It was the least he could do for his failure.

He’d never forgiven himself for walking away. For pretending it could be someone else’s problem when he’d been the one there. The one who could’ve made a difference.

Now, Will stared at the bend of the machine with a similar guilt in his belly. He remembered the fox’s teeth, how scared he’d been of getting bitten. But it had stuck in Will’s head for years, and he knew now that there’d been a hundred things he could’ve done to help the fox.

Just with the fox, no one else was going to help here. If Will left, the creature would die or… or be here in the morning when the men returned, and that would be worse.

That would be so, so much worse.

Will didn’t want to go back, didn’t want to get closer, but.

But.

In his mind’s eye he saw the red fur, matted with blood. The barbs had been so deep in its body. It must have been in so much pain.

And Will had done nothing.

Slowly, cautiously, Will turned and began swimming back toward the excavator. He headed for where he’d stopped last time, as to not get too close.

He saw the moment the creature noticed him again, because it froze, head turning in his direction.

This time Will was prepared for the red glint of its eyes. The sharp teeth. He braced for it to swim at him, but it didn’t.

When Will got to the machine, he was careful not to touch it this time. He treaded water with his feet, staring back at the creature.

“Can I help you?” He asked cautiously.

It hissed again. Will did his best not to flinch.

That seemed to work. The creature closed its mouth and then tilted its head, as if considering him.

“You’re stuck, right? Your leg or… tail?” Will couldn’t see anything beneath the dark water, had no idea what other parts this creature might have. “I could help you push?”

Will was pretty sure that was what the creature had been trying to do–push the excavator back upright, take the pressure off wherever the pinch-point was.

Will put his hands up against the metal, illustrating. “Push, you know?”

It watched him with keen eyes. Will didn’t think it was his imagination that there was more behind those eyes than an animal brain. It might not speak his language, but he thought he could see it thinking.

Will took a deep breath and turned his attention away from the creature, facing the metal. His muscles were tense, but he tried to focus on the task. His legs kicked in the water, propelling him against the metal.

Even the small amount of momentum had the metal moving. A moment later, he sensed the swirl of water, and the creature also started pushing.

The excavator was huge and heavy, even in the water. He had no leverage but the kick of his feet, but he had to try. Trying mattered.

Will kicked his feet and shoved at the metal. It shifted the smallest amount back. The creature made another fractured, pained noise. Will grit his teeth and kicked his legs harder.

It was slow, slow, progress. The water displaced enough weight that with the soft ground, they could move it, if millimeters at a time.