Chapter 22: Hunting
My Boy Jack: Prequel to The Chimera Cycle
Table of Contents
“We all go, or no one goes.” Antony stood before the fire, his arms folded.
William sat at the long table. He pointed at Robert. “Aren’t we clumsy fools?”
Antony’s eyes narrowed. “More haste, less speed.” A common proverb remembered. “I am faster, Samuel is stronger, but we are all—even Thomas—marvels.”
Marcus looked Antony in the eye. “Adler says so.”
“I say so. Have you watched the village children?”
Marcus said nothing. He stuck to the rules most of the time.
“I have.” Antony’s frown deepened. “They are weak. Slow to think and speak, and they stink; they can’t see like us or hear. At night, they are blind, and stupid.”
Thomas tilted his head. “We grew fast.”
“I know. Even you, Thomas, are cleverer than those who are twice your age.”
Samuel stretched. “We are tall for our years.”
Antony looked up a little. “And you, Sam, are taller still.” He stepped past Marcus. “This Shuck must be cunning. It leaves no trail, no scent—like us. Perhaps it is quick and clever too.”
Edmund pushed Walter aside. “A moment ago you doubted it existed. What do you know?”
Antony frowned in thought. “I changed my mind.”
Marcus crossed his arms. “Well done, Antony.” He grinned. “You believe, but why should I, we, anyone—listen to you?”
Antony stood as still as his breathing. “You’ve tried to track me. How did that go?”
Marcus laughed. “We got you, hah! Don’t forget it.”
“Yes. You caught me in the end—by getting everyone here to help you.”
Marcus’s eyes widened, reliving the triumph. “You went for a swim. We found your clothes near the pond in the Ten-Acre Wood.”
Walter gave a quiet yip. “A pack of hounds.”
Edmund punched him and giggled.
“No,” Jack said, remembering Antony’s insight about how the dogs tracked them. “Not swimming, that’s not it at all.”
Antony frowned.
Jack pointed. “It’s how you avoid Drew’s mastiffs; they track what we wear. We don’t stink. They smell the lye in the wool of our shirts from washing, or our old boots—not us. This is why Antony runs around naked.”
For a moment, no boy said a word.
“Is that true, Antony?” Marcus asked. “Is that your trick?”
Antony ducked and made a flourish with his hand. He faced Marcus. “No one here likes me. I don’t like any of you either, but you, Marcus—you make a good captain, leading the others. Making the plan? I’m best at that. I’ll be Adler, and you can be Renwick. Samuel—Steadman Wharton. Let William and Robert be Sergeant Markham and Jonas Drew—”
“I understand. We’ll be soldiers—hunting the enemy.”
“Our senses, all of them, are better than Renwick’s and the guard’s; we are faster too, especially in the dark when the Shuck runs. We have to find it—because they can’t.”
“How can we all go out?” Jack asked. “All of us? Isn’t it asking to be caught?”
Antony looked at him, perhaps even with approval, if not surprise. “Jack is right. That’s why we will take turns.” He raised his hand, cutting off Edmund. “I’ll tell you what to look for. If you see a sign, just call out. We all know the sound. The strange howl the Shuck makes—the one dogs hear, we can hear it, too, but the humans don’t. Then we all come.”
Marcus slunk out that night. He hid his clothes as Antony suggested. Naked into the darkness. Next, Samuel, followed by William, Robert, and Edmund. Walter’s turn came. He gave the cry, and for good reason. He found tracks that he did not recognise—large pads like a dog’s. They all slipped out, stripping down and joining him. They returned before dawn—without being caught or catching sight or sound of the Shuck. The next evening belonged to a reluctant Jack, and then, with even less enthusiasm, Thomas.
Antony chose All Hallows’ Eve for himself. The cycle repeated itself night after night. Footprints appeared, then vanished. Sounds circled and withdrew.
Adler discovered Robert missing on Sunday, November 3rd; they all went hungry. On Friday the 8th, the night of the full moon, Antony’s call summoned them, but they found nothing, avoiding Captain Renwick only because Samuel elected to stay outside and take the blame. Still, the Doctor made them all go without rations. “This time I’ll make it two days—next it’ll be four, you understand me!”
In the dormitory, Jack’s bed sat beside Thomas’s. “There are no special babies again this year,” Jack whispered. “It makes Adler angry.”
“Why be mad at us?”
Jack didn’t know.
Antony never showed frustration—just joy at the game. Jack grasped that hunting the creature meant different things to his brothers.
“How many more times?” Thomas asked. “Before we admit we can’t catch the Shuck?”
Again, Jack found he could not answer.