The three of them shone their lights on the cages. The remaining rabbits were all huddled in tight packs in the corners of their cages, as far away from the door as possible. There was a jittery nervousness about the animals, who jumped at every noise and movement around them. But the most disturbing thing of all was the middle cage. It had been ripped open, like someone might tear into a plastic bag to get at the candies. The metal was stretched, torn, and mangled, as if the heavy-gauge steel cage had been made of twist ties.

Ranger Brock noticed movement in the background and shone his light deeper into the stable. Ernie’s horse was there, trying to hide in the depths of the shadows instead of approaching them. That was strange, since Sir Brian Hewlitt was a gentle animal, one of the most friendly and curious horses the ranger had ever seen. Obviously something had spooked it—big time.

“You’re saying wolves did this?” the sergeant asked, at last.

“Hard to believe, I know,” said Ernie, “but I saw two of them leaving. And they had one of my rabbits with them.”

The sergeant looked to Garrett for confirmation or denial. It didn’t seem possible that wolves could grab the cage firmly enough to pry it open like that, but strange things seemed to happen around Redstone all the time.

“There was a big wolf,” the ranger said. “Very big. And if something that big gets hungry enough, who knows what it’s capable of doing.”

“If you say it was a wolf, then it was a wolf.” The sergeant said the words, but his tone hinted that he didn’t totally believe it.

Ernie swept his light across the backyard and focused his beam on something on the ground by the edge of the forest. “And then there’s Jaeger.” He sniffed back a tear. “You two have a look. I don’t want to see it again tonight.”

Without a word, the ranger and the sergeant headed across the yard. As they approached, they could smell the animal’s blood in the air.

“It’s the dog,” the sergeant said, shining his light on the body.

Garrett put his flashlight beam onto the dog’s head, then moved it slowly down the body. The animal’s fur was soaked with blood and much of it had already dried black. There were four parallel slashes down the neck, each one about four inches long and spaced an inch apart. And chunks of flesh had been torn from the animal’s body.

“You still sure a wolf did this?”

Garrett didn’t know what to say. He couldn’t outright lie, but neither could he tell the truth. “Something like a wolf, maybe,” he said.

“Like a wolf?” A pause. “Do I need to know more about this?”