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“Do you have any idea how much trouble you’ve caused?”

Grant pulled the phone receiver away from his muzzle and looked at the picket line outside the window. They marched back and forth across his lawn, trampling the chrysanthemums Alia had devoted the past few weeks to nurturing, carrying signs with all manner of sayings on them, all of them hateful and rude.

Happily, Rachael could not read yet. But even she understood that when humans pelted you with rocks, something was wrong. “I have an idea,” he said. At least they didn’t carry stones today. He rubbed his arm where one had smacked him the one and only time he had tried to go out. He sighed. “I don’t know what you want me to say, Hannah. Sorry?”

A string of profanity on the other end indicated that perhaps an apology was not, strictly speaking, in order. He flattened his ears and covered the speaker with a paw. Rachael could hear, too. And her ears were better than any one else’s that he knew of.

She didn’t need to know about this, either.

Hannah’s cursing subsided, and she groaned. He imagined her rubbing her temples with her thumb and middle finger, as he had often seen her do when one of the operators made a stupid mistake. “It’s a mess here.”

Another voice piped up from the background, too indistinct for Grant to make out over the poor connection. “In a minute,” she said to the other person. “This is an important phone call.” There was another garbled reply. “Yeah, him. I’ll talk to you when I’m done.”

Another groan, this one more profound than the first. “It’s really, really bad.”

“I think I believe it.” A television crew pulled to the side of the road in front of their house, and he swore under his breath. “It’s not exactly a picnic here, either.” He moved from the line of sight and tiptoed to the window. Alia didn’t want to close the curtains, she said it made the house too gloomy, but he was not about to let his family be on display. Fifteen seconds later, privacy was achieved. “So why did you call? If you’re just going to call to tell me I’m a screw-up, I’m really not in the mood.”

“Well you are,” she said. “Management is trying to figure out what to do with you and it’s all I can do to keep them from firing you on the spot.” She swore again. “I wasn’t supposed to tell you that. Pretend I didn’t say anything. But I thought you should know.”

Grant settled into his chair. The wooden armrest had a few scratches from where his claws had dug into it over the years. Quite a few blemishes were from the past two days. “Great, another thing to add to my ever-growing list of worries. Why didn’t I get my family out of here when I had the chance? Ignore that, don’t answer.” He let out a long, low whine and hoped no one could hear.

“You’ve become something of a liability.”

“Not to mention a circus act.” He glowered at the closed curtains. If he tried hard enough, he could hear their chants. Not that they were worth listening to. “I’m surprised you’re talking to me.”

“You’re one of my best workers,” Hannah said. “You’re too valuable to lose. That’s why I want answers.”

Rachael padded into the room, paw in her mouth, and naked. “Look, Hannah, I need to go. Can I call you back in a few?”

“Answers, Grant.”

“Later.” As if he had any to give. He was as clueless as anyone else. “Family issue. I’ll call you back.” He pressed the “end call” button and placed the phone back in its cradle. “Rachael, where are your clothes?” Best to avoid the crowd outside, he thought.

She removed her paw and stood up on tiptoe to see out of the covered window. Grant held the curtain with a paw, trying not to be too obvious about it. “Alan said we don’t have to wear clothes anymore since that’s what humans do.”

Oh, Alan. What silly things were you telling your sister? “Go ask Mommy to find you some clothes to wear, okay? Daddy needs to finish a call, then he’ll be right out.”

Apparently content with the answer, Rachael waddled away, suckling on her paw again. It had taken them five years to rid Alan of the habit, and from the looks of things it would take at least as long for her as well. If they could survive that long, he thought. Suddenly, chewing on one's paws was of significantly less importance than other matters.

Survival, to name one.

He sighed and looked at the window, thankful for the curtains. One of the rocks thrown their way had hit its mark and left a scar in the glass, but thankfully it had not made it all the way through. Every other shot lobbed their way had been even less successful.

With a shake of his head, he picked up the phone and dialled the number.

***

There were more annoying people in the world than Brian Goodrich, but Hannah had not met any of them yet. Her day-shift supervisor leaned against the door frame, a lollipop in his slack mouth. He brushed limp hair from watery eyes and tiptoed into the conference room. “I see that went well,” he said.

“He'll call back.” That was his way. Grant had always been one of the most enthusiastic workers she had the privilege of knowing. He put more into his shift than all but maybe three others on the floor, all for the sake of providing for his family. She thought she remembered meeting his wife and son at a company picnic a few years back, before their daughter entered the world, but all she could remember was how she looked at him when he joined them, plates of food in hand.

There was love in her eyes.

By all accounts, they had been a picture-perfect family. Stable family, hard workers, encouraging one another. And then she found out that her preferred employee wasn't even a human, and the headaches began.

She had called him first for a reason. The other two… creatures… were not held in as high regard, and she needed to reduce stress in whatever way she could. She imagined Rachael on the other end of the line, doing whatever it was little girls do to keep their fathers from talking on the phone.

But, she reminded herself, Rachael was no little girl. She was not even human.

She scowled, drummed her fingers on the table, and glared at Brian. “I can handle this myself, you know.”

Brian shrugged. “I'm sure. I want to make sure he doesn't threaten you when you tell him what we've agreed upon.”

Hannah turned away. What he'd agreed upon, more like it. She hadn't agreed to any of it. She was not letting him go so easily. “He's not going to threaten me.”

“You say that, but how can we trust him? He's been hiding this for who knows how long? They could have done horrible things to us. It's creepy.”

He did have a point there. Hannah had a hard time sleeping at night knowing that these creatures were out there, but a lot of her discomfort was due to knowing just what the humans wanted to do to them. As far as she could tell, these coyotes, as they called themselves, hadn't really done anything. If they were hoping for some sort of super-secret takeover of the world, the lack of any of the creatures in positions of authority suggested they were not doing a good job of it.

Then why the secrecy? Why pretend to be what they weren't? That didn't do them any favors as far as trusting one another went. So she had called Grant first, hoping for some sort of explanation, but the stupid creature wasn't providing one.

She turned her back to the annoying male in the doorway and stared at the phone. As if on cue, it rang.

“That'll be him.” She picked up. “Hi Grant.”

“Sorry for making you wait.” His voice didn't sound quite right, as if it came from too far away from the phone. Was that due to the shape of his mouth? She wished she'd seen what it looked like up close, but she hadn't been on shift. The pictures the news showed weren't exactly useful either, all taken from a distance since coyotes were reluctant to display themselves. “Rachael needed help.”

Hannah allowed herself a smile, but she shook it away quickly. This was not the time to be cheerful. “So, got an answer for me?”

“Why do you want to know?” He sounded angry, tense. “Look, I don't know what happened any more than the next guy. And quite frankly, I need to worry more about feeding my family and making sure the bozos outside don't kill them when I'm not looking than spilling my life story and conjectures to an overly inquisitive human. Now I'm sorry that I can't give you the answers you're looking for, but I don't have them. Right now I want to know from you when I can start work back up again or if I'm better off trying to flee before the police strangle me even more.”

Hannah stared at the phone. Wow. He couldn't have come closer to metaphorically biting her head off if he'd tried. “All right, I'll stop asking.” She looked behind her at Brian, who gazed at her vacantly. She couldn't say what he wanted her to. She shook her head and stared at him until he made eye contact. “I want you to come here tomorrow morning so we can discuss your future with the company.”

Brian's face flushed. “What?”

“I'm sorry,” she said. “That's all I can offer. Please find some way to get here.” She hung up.

Brian stormed over and jabbed a finger at the phone. “What was that? What did you just do?”

“I'm inviting an employee to a review meeting so we can discuss his status with the company and any parting benefits. You know, like we do to everyone who leaves.”

Her chances of keeping him were growing slimmer by the second. But she had to try.

“I have half a mind to fire you on the spot.”

Hannah stood up stiffly and marched for the door. “But you won't,” she said. “You aren't stupid.” She cleared her throat. “Now I have other business to attend to. I will see you in the morning, Mr. Goodrich.”

***

Alia pressed her nose against Grant’s chest and whimpered. “I don’t want you to go.” Her usually-strong voice had grown more fragile after several days of de facto house arrest and her plea came out in barely a whisper. This imprisonment was growing harder by the hour. “Can’t you call in or something?”

Grant rubbed behind her ears and kissed the top of her head. “I wish.” He ran his paws down to her neck, then to her waist. She was still minimally-dressed, it being too early in the morning to bother with proper clothing. Truth be told, she was much more appealing this way than when she tried to mimic the fashion styles of the humans they had lived around for so long. There was nothing wrong with most of them, most of the time, but why they insisted upon covering themselves with such uncomfortable fabric had always been a mystery.

The coyotes back home would probably approve of these thoughts. The cluster of shut-ins out to the west had never been as willing as Grant’s kind to mingle with humans to the same degree. But there had been a better life out here, with greater opportunities for his children and a more satisfying life for Alia.

Until the world fell apart a week ago and the humans turned against them. Maybe putting his trust in them was a mistake.

He sighed and pulled away. The starched shirt was uncomfortable against his fur and it rubbed the wrong way with such close contact. “I’ll be okay. Please trust me.”

“It’s not you I don’t trust.” Alia’s gaze shifted briefly to the door. She had him there. The thought of leaving them behind with that crowd outside filled him with not a little dread. “Be careful.”

“You, too. I’ve asked Marcum to watch the house today. If you have any trouble at all, you know how to reach him.” That was his only solace. Marcum was one of the few outside this house he could trust, who had any chance of helping him if the worst came. He kissed Alia’s nose. “I will see you tonight.”

Night still wrapped the world in a blanket of darkness when he left the house. The plan called for him to leave the safety of home as soon as possible and reach the plant site under cover of darkness. It prevented spying eyes from the road, for one, but even better there were never any humans roaming the streets in front of the house at this hour.

He scanned the road. With the exception of one dwelling with a yellow lamp shining from the window, the neighborhood was asleep. Where had they been the past week? The Nichols had invited them to a barbecue two weeks ago. What were they thinking now? They hadn’t made any contact at all. The Hernandez residence? Same. How many afternoons had Trevor spent with their son, riding bicycles through the neighborhood, playing video games, or whatever it was that children did these days? Trevor hadn’t said anything about them. But then, he hadn’t asked. Grant just assumed they had abandoned his family like everyone else had.

Where were the coyotes? They had also rejected him. He lived among humans and had exiled himself to a life outside their network.

And for the first time in his life, he wondered if it had been worth it.

A car pulled up to the side of the road, and a human stepped out. The scent of Marcum’s cigars reached him first. “You’re running early,” he said. “How’s the wife and children?”

Grant sighed. “You know how they are,” he said. “I told you just last night.”

“Yeah, well things can change.” The human clapped him on the shoulder and looked down into his eyes. He was about four inches taller than Grant and probably sixty pounds heavier, all of it more imposing than the well-built coyote despite the lack of claws and fangs. He looked up and down the road. “When do they show up?”

“Probably in the next half hour,” he said. “They like to start before sunrise. Thanks for keeping an eye out.”

Marcum shook his head. “It’s just awful. My offer is still open, you know.”

Grant turned back to the house. A strange feeling in the pit of his stomach elicited a whimper. Might this be the last time he saw his home? “I can’t,” he said. “I wish I could, but it wouldn’t work out.”

“Have you told Alia about it yet?”

Grant said nothing.

Marcum scowled. “Grant!”

“I’m sorry, I can’t.”

The human crossed his arms. “If anything happens to your family, I will hold you personally responsible.”

Grant growled. “I have enough opposition already. I don’t need any extra from you.” He marched to the car and opened the door. “Thank you, again, for watching them. I’ve told Alia to call you if anything happens.”

“Take care, Grant. I’ll see you this afternoon.”

Grant shut the door without a reply. “Ready to go, Mike.”

Mike rubbed his furless forehead with the back of a hand and adjusted the mirror. “Wasn’t quite where I wanted it.” He nodded to Grant as the coyote buckled. “So what’s the plan when we get there?”

He shrugged and looked out the window as the house receded from view. Marcum stood as a sentry in the road, then walked off to look less conspicuous. “I’ll figure that out when I get there,” he said after a moment. “I need help getting back home too.”

“Yeah, Marcum said. It won’t be me, but we’ll work something out.” He sighed. “My species is being stupid lately.”

Grant growled softly. “If it’s all the same to you, can we not talk about that right now? That message has been more than adequately communicated for the past several days and I would like to think about other things.” Like how we’re going to survive in this world.

There was something ironic about having to rely on humans today. The coyotes had abandoned him to the hostile species. Not a single one had sent so much as a text message since the fiasco. Not even his sister. His only recourse was to appeal to the two humans he believed he could trust, the only two who had known his secret almost as long as he’d known them. They had never panicked about it.

Had they ever realized how many of them there were? He sniffed. Marcum’s cigars, some fries that had seen better days, unwashed human. No hint of fear or unease. He could relax.

“I have never seen you with your fur stood up on end like that,” Mike said. “I’ve got some drinks in the back seat if you need to calm down.”

“Mike, shut up.”

The human didn’t have a retort, or perhaps realized that arguing with an increasingly-grouchy creature with the ability to rip his throat out was not the wisest of actions, so he kept quiet for the rest of the half hour long drive to the plant site.

It was not vacant. The third shift was on duty still, naturally, and a few more vehicles also littered the lot. None were media though, which brought great relief. He had enough of that to last for several lifetimes. “Thank you for driving me out here,” he said.

Mike shrugged and, once Grant was out of the car and staring at the gate, drove off. He couldn’t blame him. He hadn’t been the best company on that trip.

He sighed and felt in his pocket for his badge. He hoped they had not already deactivated it. But then, why would she have told him to come if she knew he couldn’t get in? Unless, of course, she wanted to meet him.

But she was not out here and he did not want to wait any longer, so he let himself in. The door beeped as it always had, more amplified to his exposed coyote ears and much more painful. It had always been aggravating, his hearing was better than a human’s even when in the disguise, but in his natural form the screech threatened to burst an eardrum.

It was less of a walk of shame than he’d anticipated. No one was out here to watch as the bulky, pointy-eared creature crept his way to the building he’d called his home away from home for the past ten years. No security guard tried to stop him, but he had picked this gate for a reason—security never bothered with this one.

He opened the door to the main office, lit of course, and sniffed. It was difficult to scent anything over the strong chemical odor. All that stood out really was the sweaty smell of hardworking humans. Traces of coyote lingered in the hallway, but they had not been here in days. He suspected he was the first one to return after the cataclysm.

A feminine gasp and a less-feminine obscenity echoed down the hall. He lifted his ears and turned his nose toward her. How had he not heard her coming? He didn’t think he had been quite that distracted.

Hannah stared at him from the doorway to the break room, her jaw slack. Grant folded his ears back. This was the reaction he expected, sure, but it was not the one he wanted by a long shot. “Hello, Hannah.”

His voice must have made something in her mind click. She quick-stepped toward him, stopping about ten feet away. She stared at him. Grant looked away. “This is not quite what I was expecting,” she said after a moment.

“Yeah, well, this isn’t what I had in mind either.” He folded his arms and made eye contact. Now she looked away. “Can we just get this over with? I don’t like leaving my family vulnerable.”

“Can I…?” Hannah stopped. “Never mind, that’s stupid.” She sighed. “I know who you are, but you’re not the you I’m used to.”

Grant had never seen her so hesitant before. “You’re scared of me aren’t you?”

Hannah scowled. “No, of course not!” She shrugged. “Well, maybe a little. I don’t know, and it makes me feel terrible.” She came a few steps closer. “I mean, if you were going to harm us, you could have done it at any time.”

“I’m not sure if you’re trying to ease the tension between us or not, but let me tell you it’s not working.” Grant adjusted his pants. These were some he had worn when as a human, and they were not quite fit to his coyote proportions. The newly added tail-hole especially didn’t line up quite right.

She was being infuriating. But she felt terrible about it, so at least she knew she was being stupid. That was more than he could say about most of the other humans he had encountered in the past week. “What’s going on at home?”

“I’m a freak show apparently. They won’t leave us alone, they throw rocks at the house, I’m afraid they’ll try to burn us out one of these days.”

“They wouldn’t!”

Grant raised his eyebrows. It didn’t have quite the same effect with this facial structure, but he hoped it came across well enough. “In case you haven’t noticed, your species isn’t very good at dealing with things it doesn’t understand. I promise you they would if one of them found a spine.” Hadn’t the very thing happened to the guy trying to run for office? Or maybe it had stopped at burglary and kidnapping. Either way, that didn’t speak highly of the human race. He marched past her toward the break room. “So what’s the plan?” He deliberately brushed shoulders with her, to see what she would do. She flinched.

As if he expected any other reaction.

“I’m not in the mood to be treated like some sort of circus exhibit,” he said. “When does the big boss show up, and what do I do until then?”

“You’re going to tell me everything.”

Grant paused. He was tempted to swear, but he didn’t want to start that habit now, not when he might one day spread it to his children. “Fine.”

So he did, starting from an elementary-level understanding of what he and his people had gone through, to when they went into hiding, and what it was like living in secret among a formerly- and now currently-hostile population. Hannah showed little emotion throughout his storytelling. That was no surprise, really. She had nothing with which to compare his words.

“So I trust you understand now why I am upset to be away from my family for any length of time,” he said at last. “I want to get this overwith, and then I want to go back to them and figure out how I can best protect them.”

Hannah remained expressionless. Grant was tempted to growl, but he let it die in his throat. This was not the time for it. He sniffed. It was quieter than he would have expected. Normally the other operators would have come through here, not caring who heard them. He had joked with them many times.

Their absence raised the fur on the back of Grant’s neck. “Why are we alone?” Immediately he focused on his surroundings, cursing himself for allowing his narrative to get in the way of his attention.

Hannah backed away with her hands raised. “No one wanted to come in today.”

That didn’t sound right. “Why?”

She opened her mouth, then snapped it shut. She looked away. “I’m not sure I should say.”

“Why?” he asked again.

“Because they knew you were coming.”

He wanted to growl. He wanted to snarl and rage, to sink his fangs into something and claw the wall to shreds. He did allow himself to growl, a low rumble that felt good in his throat. When was the last time he’d allowed himself to let go like this? Not since he had entered human society. Far too long for his health.

He needed to speak, to use sounds that Hannah could understand better than the guttural rumblings from within, but he didn’t want to. He had been a human long enough. It was time to be a coyote again.

If he hadn’t regained his senses, he might have stripped then and there too. Human clothes were so constricting. But Hannah was there and he didn’t know what Alia would think. Actually he did, and it was not pleasant. That also helped arrest thoughts of release.

“Idiots,” he said at last. “I have worked with them for years!”

“You’ve lied to them for years!” Hannah shot back.

He sniffed. Not a hint of fear emanated from her. She stood before him with legs shoulder-width, arms on her hips, challenging him for authority here and now. That silly human ought to know better than to try to control a coyote, and it would pay if it wasn’t careful.

He shook his head. That was a bad thought. Hannah was his boss, even if she was weak and furless. He sighed. “Fine. I have. But I don’t know what I could have done instead.” He liked being a coyote better. Using human words sounded so weak! His excuse was pathetic in his ears. “I’m going to go.”

He took a cautious step toward her. “Go where?”

“I don’t care.” He didn’t have a future here. “I can’t work with people who flee at the sight of me.” I can’t work with people I’ve lied to for years.

Hannah frowned. “You’re better than this.”

Grant growled again. “I’m done here.” He forced his way past her. He flashed his fangs. She turned aside to let him through. His vision clouded and his ears pounded with blood. He covered his nose, the scent overwhelming him. I’ll get my family to somewhere safe. Somewhere better. “Tell him I resign.”

He threw off his shirt. That felt much better.

He blinked in the sunlight. The door clicked shut behind him. He shook his head. When had he gone through? He didn’t remember it. He looked back. Everything had gone hazy for a few minutes there.

Hannah was still in there, he assumed. He sniffed. No, she was not out here.

A soft breeze rustled the fur on his chest. It had been so long since he’d allowed himself to go free, the wind tickled against his skin. He wasn’t going to let that happen again.

He pulled out his phone and keyed in a number. “It’s done.”

***

Hannah sighed as Grant stormed out. She poured herself a cup of coffee and sat down, blowing across the top before taking a sip. What was that thing standing in front of her? It had sounded like Grant, even had his mannerisms at first, but he just…snapped. For an instant, all the intellect had fled from his eyes, and she beheld a cornered animal.

Strangely, she never felt threatened. The thought of him trying to hurt her was absurd. But what was that? She sighed. Either way, if he wasn’t already on the verge of losing his job, there was no way to reclaim it now. He had burned that bridge and scattered the ashes.

When had it gone wrong? About the time she said no one wanted to show up today, because he would be here. In retrospect, maybe she should not have said it, but why? It was true, and she was here regardless. Just because she worked with a bunch of weak-kneed cowards didn’t mean he had to blow up like that. It was almost like he’d been…offended. What was it he’d said? He was tired of being treated like a circus animal.

Had she treated him any differently?

Her cell phone chirped. It was Brian. She took another sip of coffee and answered. “No reason to come down,” she said. “He left.”

“Well that makes it easier on us,” he said. He laughed. “I was afraid, for a minute.”

Her eyes narrowed. She was glad he couldn’t see. “Is that why you left me alone with him?”

He stammered. “Well...er… I mean… No. I thought you would be the best one to break the news.”

It was a very good thing he couldn’t see her, or the apple she was digging her fingers into in stead of his neck. “We did wrong, Brian. We should have supported him.”

“You did the right thing.”

She shook her head. “No. I didn’t. Goodbye.”

She disconnected the call and walked outside. Grant was gone. She looked back at the building behind her, sighed, and kept walking.

She wouldn’t go back, either.