Until... | Book 3 | Until The End

I cast too much light on it. Paging through several taxonomies, I found no mention of its kind, so I was determined to properly examine it. Changing more rapidly than a chameleon, the creature immediately blends into its surroundings. It first seems to take on the characteristics of the backdrop and then seemingly disappears altogether. When I had sketched the shape of it, I put it back in the terrarium and turned my attention to Scout. He wouldn’t cease to paw and lick at his wound. Applying bitter salve only made him cough and gag, but he still licked. I put him to bed in one of the horse stalls in case he was sick in the night.

In the morning, I discovered that Scout had perished during the night. The wound on his nose was no longer obvious and I could find no reason for his death. I buried him beyond the orchard—his favorite place to play in the summer—and I returned to my study to smother my grief with my work.

I moved the entire terrarium to the light so I could make a more thorough examination of the salamander. This proved to be a mistake. Upon exposure to sunlight, the creature writhed and twisted. For the first time, I was able to see the anatomy clearly, but not for long. It seemed to cook before my eyes, dissolving like wax over a flame. Soon there was nothing left to examine. I found no trace of it once it melted away.

The next evening, with one of Scout’s sisters secured carefully on the end of a leash, I returned to the woods. Judy wasn’t as sharp as Scout and I couldn’t persuade her to sniff out salamanders. I only found one by sitting perfectly still for several minutes and keeping my lantern at the edge of my sight. When the salamander moved between me and the light, I spotted the shadow it cast and I swept it up.

Back in my study, this second salamander didn’t survive my lamplight. Wary of the sun, I decided to examine it under nothing more than the focus of several lamps, but even that was too much. The salamander tried to hide under bark in the terrarium and then suffered the same fate as the other one when I took away that shelter.

I concentrated for a few moments and then admitted what was already clear. Too much light was the issue. If I was going to catalogue this salamander, it would have to be from the light of a single candle.

Judy and I went back out to find another.

Several days later, after countless unproductive hunts, I was ready to proclaim that the whole thing had been an invention of my overactive imagination.

That’s when Scout returned.

He was still dirty from the dirt that I shoveled on top of him. The dog’s body was dirty but clearly the same. The eyes were the big difference. Later I discovered that the teeth had changed as well.

Scout met Judy and I on the path that led from the orchard to the stream. I was riding horseback. The horse was spooked by the sound of his growling before I even laid eyes on the dog. The hour was just after sunset. I dropped down from the saddle and struggled to hold the reins as I apologized to Scout for having buried him prematurely. That’s when I saw the difference in his eyes. They reminded me of the luminescent beetles that I had been cataloguing. There was a spark in each pupil that was easier to see when I didn’t look directly at them.

There wasn’t much time to look into his eyes though. Judy barked and growled back and then the dog and bitch met each other with gnashing teeth. Scout had the immediate advantage. His teeth were noticeably sharper, gleaming white in the light from my lantern. When I approached to intervene in the bloody fight, Scout shied back. I believe it was the lantern that he didn’t like.

Judy was badly mistreated by the encounter. Her left foreleg was useless to support her. She had to hop and limp to keep up as we rushed home. I treated the wounds the best I could to no avail. Of this animal’s demise, I was certain. In the morning, I returned to the hole where I had committed Scout to the ground. I dug in the same loose dirt and was shocked at what I found. Scout was still there, buried under the dirt of the orchard where I had left him. Puzzled, I stared down and tried to understand how I could have been so mistaken. It made no sense to me.

I moved more dirt away from him and saw that he still had blood on his head and chest—this was Judy’s blood from the fight. I was even more puzzled.

I stood and pondered as the sun rose higher in the sky and finally cast a beam on Scout’s corpse. He writhed and twisted in the light, trying to wriggle his way deeper into the dirt. I clamped a gloved hand onto one of his paws and dragged him up out of the hole only to witness him burn in the light, just like the salamander. I couldn’t stand the suffering and let him burrow again into the dirt.

That’s when I fully understood the true depths of my own ignorance.

I have no explanation. My only cogent thought is that I can draw several direct correlations between the behavior of the salamanders and Scout. Given that Scout was bitten by one of the salamanders, I have to wonder if their condition is contagious in some way.

I resolved to explored the matter further. To date, I haven’t found time to pursue that goal.

# # #

Amber frowned and closed the book to look at the cover again. She paged to the introduction and read it carefully, trying to decide if the book was some kind of joke.

“Don’t be stupid,” she told herself. Ricky wouldn’t have