Dixie cried. The beast shook its head. “It is against my very nature to merely ‘leave things alone’. I cannot survive otherwise. I should have liked to have been sent for your best friend’s husband’s goose friend instead, but…oh, well.” “What are you?” Dixie whispered. The beast began walking towards them, and they cowered in terror as it drew near. “What does it…” There was a wet thwack, and the beast screamed horribly with pain, grabbing a metal bar that was now protruding from its abdomen. Dixie and Sylvie gasped at the sight, wondering what was responsible for skewering their attacker. Clenching its teeth, the monster turned around slowly to see Balto standing several yards behind it. He had thrown the bar, sending it somersaulting through the air to impale the advance form. “Just…in…time,” it growled. It pulled the bloodied bar from its body, but only held it for a minute before suddenly hurling it at Balto like a javelin. Balto jumped into the air, spinning around slowly, and as the bar passed harmlessly under him, he caught it before landing. He shook his head. “That was a very stupid thing to do,” he said. “Dixie, Sylvie, get down!” They hid behind the back stairs of a house, trembling with fright as they watched Balto and the advance form standing, facing each other. “I’d like to repeat her question,” said Balto. “What are you?” “I am merely one of many forms of pestilence brought by food. Most people would consider me to be not such a terrible illness, not compared with Sorrow, at any rate. Yet, everyone knows me.” “Would I have heard of you?” “Possibly. You have a friend, a goose. I am the reason humans don’t like to eat his fellow fowl without cooking them. Of course, I am suffering far more poignant effects, since my whole body is made of the bacteria…” “Wait…” Balto said. “I think I know you. You’re the bogey everyone talks about with raw eggs.” “But of course,” it said. “Salmonella. Would you like to try some?” “I don’t think so.” “Your wife’s friends here, I fear, shall be unable to choose.” “I’ve chosen for them. If you want to choose their fate, you’ll have to factor me in!”

They leapt at each other, punching each other in midair and falling. The advance form got to one knee and stabbed Balto’s shoulder, drawing a cry of pain from his lips. However, he was quick to reciprocate. He extended one of the virus arms’ teeth and slashed the advance form’s chest, leaving long, ugly lacerations. The advance form growled and jumped to its feet, kicking Balto in the jaw, sending him tumbling backwards. Balto sat up, watching the advance form approach, bloody drool falling from its teeth. “This must be a really ramped-up version of salmonella,” Balto thought. He hopped up to all fours and ducked a swing, then charged in close and swung the metal bar, gaining a solid hit on the advance form’s gut. He swung the bar up and around, striking the advance form on the shoulder. It fell to it knees, but was by no means incapacitated; it punched Balto square in the chest, and he flew into a wall, falling to the snow immediately after, stunned. The advance form wasn’t sure whether it would be safe to approach, but after several seconds of Balto merely stirring slightly, it decided to attack. As it came towards him, Balto gradually regained his senses, becoming fully alert just as one of its feet dug into the snow right before his face. He drove the teeth of one of the virus arms into the advance form’s foot, and it yelled, trying to back away. Desperate to break free, it tried to impale Balto, but he moved out of the way, and the creature hit nothing but snow. Balto struck the side of the advance form’s knee area with the bar, and although nothing broke, his assailant crumpled. He got up and whacked it across the face, and it stood up and stumbled backward. Balto began to strike the creature with the bar, over and over and over. With each crunch of cartilage, the creature weakened, buckling to the ground with blood pouring from its mouth as Balto smashed its body to pieces on the inside. Eventually, it was reduced to merely squirming and groaning, and Balto drove the bar into the back of the creature’s head, ending its misery. He left the bar where it was and tried to approach Dixie and Sylvie, but they shrank away from him. “No! Stay away!” Dixie cried. “You look like Balto…” Sylvie said shakily, “but…” “It’s me,” Balto said. “I haven’t turned into a monster or anything. These things are just tools. I promise, it’s safe.” The two others cautiously left their cover, walking toward Balto slowly. “Oh, man…” Sylvie gasped. “Where the heck did those things come from?” asked Dixie. “I’m going to have to explain later,” Balto said. “One thing I can tell you is you’re going to need to hide so you won’t get attacked again. Just go to the boiler room. Nikki, Kaltag and Star are there already.” “So that’s where they went,” said Dixie. “Did something happen to Jenna?” asked Sylvie. Balto was going to answer right away, but he became so emotional he couldn’t speak. “Um…” In a few moments he regained his composure. “I…I’m sorry. Yes, something…did happen. The leader of a group of monsters, like this one, kidnapped her. He’s trying to kill me, and he’s using her, and anybody I know, to force me to fight his soldiers. This was just one of them.” He sighed. “I need to go and wait for him to give me another clue. Just get to the boiler room and stay there, okay? I’ll come when I can.” “First thing’s first,” Sylvie said, and she and Dixie walked up and nuzzled Balto. “Thank you,” Sylvie said. “You saved our lives.” “Yeah. Thank you very much,” Dixie said. Balto smiled. “It’s nothing. You should go, for your sakes.” Dixie and Sylvie ran off, and Balto destroyed what was left of the salmonella advance form. He wondered how many times Sorrow would make him do this before something would change. “I guess I can just keep killing these things,” he thought, “but Sorrow’s going to do something different eventually if these sub-plans of his keep failing.” He went back to the warehouse, trying hard to figure out a way to discover where Sorrow’s other hideouts were. So far, there hadn’t been any way to trace advance forms back to them, and none of the clues had suggested anything. Even if they had, Balto knew it would be quite dangerous to leave and risk not reading a clue until it would be too late for the prey. He hoped Sorrow would soon give him a clue that would lead him to Jenna; he was desperate to see her again, and find out if she was alright. He took a quick trip back to Rosy’s house to get food, then returned to the warehouse. Night fell, and Balto forced his mind to shut down so he could get some much-needed sleep. “I’m sorry I can’t be there with you,” he whispered to the darkness as it closed over him.

Jenna thought Sorrow seemed annoyed and uneasy that night. Although she couldn’t be sure, she suspected Balto had thwarted another attempt on his life by the advance form’s servants. It frightened her to be in his presence while he was like this, but fortunately, he left before long. Being alone was almost as frightening, though; the building was as dismal as a crypt. Going to a window and looking at the moon provided her some comfort, but there was a short limit to how long it worked. Sorrow had provided her with a few blankets, and these she had made into a bed. This was where she was spending most of her time, in order to keep warm. She tugged the blanket closer to herself, breathing slowly and deeply, trying to keep calm. “I wish you were here to sing to me,” she said softly, her fear permeating every word. Often, when she felt bad or upset, Balto would sing to her to cheer her up or calm her down. This was one instance where she particularly wanted it. She closed her eyes and laid her head down, thinking back to a few nights before. She’d had a bad day, and Balto had cuddled her, and sung her favorite song, ‘Truly Madly Deeply’. Right now, she could hear him singing it to her softly, and feel his loving embrace. She smiled, feeling like he was right there beside her, and suddenly, it didn’t seem quite so cold anymore. She curled up, tranquility washing over her heart. “I love you, my man,” she whispered.

Balto tried once again to interrogate the unfortunate advance form that brought him the clue the next morning, but it fought back so viciously he had no choice but to kill it. At least it was becoming painfully clear that Sorrow was willing to take every possible measure, including killing his own soldiers, to protect himself and advance the plan. “He’s going to suffer when I catch up,” he thought as he opened the next clue.

Mister Balto,

It is becoming interesting to observe your survival. I wonder how much longer you can keep playing my game. Anyway, the next one you’ll have to save…what will happen is uncertain. I don’t know if you want to save him; a grudge may prevent you, perhaps. But if you don’t save him, you can add ‘stiff-necked’ to his list of faults.

Regards,

Sorrow

Steele was glad that he at least still got opportunities to have his picture taken for newspapers. His loss of fame after Balto’s return with the diphtheria antitoxin had been far from complete, but it was still of great magnitude. He had also been fortunate in that in general, the dogs of town had decided to forgive him for his dreadful lies. At the moment, he was walking down a street, on his way home after a photo shoot, when he thought he heard something coming from behind a building. He went there to investigate, but saw nothing…until he caught a smell of blood and followed it. The scent led him to a yellow splotch on a board. He stared at it, wondering why it gave him such a feeling of déjà vu. Then, he remembered: the night when all the dogs went up on the mountain, there had been some yellow blood on the snow… He looked up, and saw Balto standing a few yards in front of him. The blood had fallen from the mouth of one of the virus arms. Steele cried