Текст книги "The Wounded"

Автор книги: Lauren Nicolle Taylor

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Текущая страница: 14 (всего у книги 17 страниц)

“Come. Wash. Fight soon. No good to be dirty prize,” she said hurriedly, pulling me by the arm. I gulped. Turning back to look at Joseph, my father, and Rash, all of whose eyes were reaching out to me in worry.

“Ok,” I said to the woman, letting her drag me away from the camp and into the wooded area surrounding it like a cage.

*****

It was just the two of us. She clamped my wrist with an iron grip as she dragged me through the mossy, green undergrowth with one sinewy arm; the other had several layers of clean clothing hanging from it, which I eyed with trepidation. The thick trees reached so high that the sun scattered only small spots of light over the damp ground. The tips of every plant were dipped in ice, like powdered sugar. My eyes glanced over rocks and tree branches that could be used as potential weapons, but something stopped me from grabbing them. She seemed kind compared to the others, and there was no one to go to for help. The Survivors were all spread out across the mountains and plains by now.

We stepped over a disintegrating log and walked down a steep incline to a rock pool with green ferns dribbling over its edges, ice extending each frond. Trickling water hit like crystal over the rocks.

She sat on a smooth, black rock and started removing her shoes.

“Here?” I asked.

She grunted in response, sort of like she was saying, “Duh.”

There was no shyness as she quickly stripped her clothes off and shrank into the water. Her dark, careworn skin looked like it needed the moisture. But she was strong, every old muscle defined and wiry. She dropped below the surface of the water and my thoughts turned to run… run.

I stood to leave, my feet just scraping the edge of the gently lapping pool. Turning, I started to creep.

A hand snapped out of the water and grabbed my ankle, jerking me backwards and pulling my balance away before I could catch it. My arms flailed out in front of me, and my chin knocked on the boulder I’d been sitting on.

I slid down and into the water fully clothed. A hand on my head held me down for longer than I had breath. I fought and scratched until it released me. The woman’s eyes were fierce as they glared, dark and penetrating like light glancing off a shiny, black rock.

“Wash,” she said cuttingly, her thin, dark lips pulled back into a growl. Her grainy teeth sharpened in the corners into fangs.

I gasped, coughing, as she pulled my clothes from me like she was stripping the fur from an animal until I was naked and exposed in front of her. She eyed me critically and clicked her tongue in what looked like disappointment. I brought my arms up to cover my bare chest as she turned and left the pool. She threw a cloth at me and began to dress.

“Wash!” she snapped more aggressively, sitting down on a rock to watch me.

A tear slid gently from one corner of my eye. I felt exposed, inadequate, and vulnerable as the woman sneered at me hatefully. I understood now. There was no kindness. This was just what was expected of her and me. My fear grew large like a pulsing wound in my throat. I might have to live this way. Would they hold me down and sharpen my teeth with a file while I screamed and thrashed?

I washed carefully, shivering uncontrollably from the cold, tiny droplets beading and driving down my face, mixing with tears.

I dunked my hair in and gave it the best rinse I could, squeezing out the ends while my limbs pulsed and jerked from the chill.

I crept out of the mirror-like pool, shaking from embarrassment as much as the cold, and put the heavy layers of fabric on my body. A scratchy shirt, a long, dark skirt, and a bodice the woman pulled tight around my middle that was decorated with colorful beads and embroidery. At least she let me keep my underwear.

When I was done, she slammed me down on a rock next to her by pushing my shaking shoulders. She turned my back to her, and I didn’t fight. I shook and whimpered, scared of the choice I’d made. She gently pulled her hands through my hair, teasing out the tangles. The knot in my chest wound tighter. This moment was tarnishing memories of Clara, and I hated the woman for it.

She faced me and rubbed pink powder on my cheeks and over my eyelids. She ran a crusty, old lipstick over my lips that tasted like wax and old lady. I grimaced and she grabbed my face roughly, squeezing my lips together into a pout.

When we were done, she clamped both my hands together and tied them with a bright, nylon cord produced from her bag.

She shoved me in the back. “Walk.”

I glared at her.

I should have hit her with a rock when I’d had the chance.

How do you win? Is it strength? Is it strategy? Or is it your hardness, your willingness to break someone into pieces without caring? Please let it not be that.

I’d been moved to the other side of the camp and tied to a post with two horses behind me. Joseph’s eyes were just pricks of green from this distance, but I knew he was thinking about me, thinking about how we could get out of this.

Two women marked out the fight space, the same routine of sweeping and shifting the stones until they marked out a perfect circle.

The woman who’d made me bathe was busy giving water and food to the others. I watched Joseph wave her away, only accepting a drink. I wouldn’t be able to eat either.

My admirer, who I heard someone calling Sukh, made his way to me, walking with a bounce in his step. He smiled widely and made eye contact with Joseph across the camp. He strained against the ropes that tied him down like a wild horse. Sukh didn’t look at me; he kept his eyes on Joseph as he ran the back of his fingers up and down my arm. I tensed, though I could barely feel him through the layers of thick fabric. “Soon you be mine,” he said, voice thick and confident. I shook my shoulder, trying to push him off. He just laughed in a high-pitched squeal that reminded me of one of Salim’s monkeys.

He stood and went to the edge of the circle.

A woman’s voice tickled my ear. “You know what Sukh means in my tongue?” My eyes bore into Joseph’s, my mouth tightly shut. “Axe,” she laughed, walking away from me, swinging her arms like she was felling a tree.

I slammed my back into the pole I was tied to in frustration.

But if Sukh was an axe, Joseph was a wrecking ball.

A need for blood to spill wrapped itself around me like a thorny vine.

*****

When Joseph removed his shirt, some of the women called out in what I assume was admiration, whooping and cackling like a flock of birds. When one of them had the honor of placing hand marks on his chest, she looked back at the other women and smiled, lingering too long on his sharply defined muscles so the handprint looked more like a bear claw as she dragged her hand down his torso, one on either side of his stitched heart scar.

I felt my skin heating up.

Joseph stood almost an entire head over Sukh, who in comparison was just as muscular, but covered in scars and bruises. His sharp fingernails seemed to glint in the afternoon slant of sun that planed its way across this barbaric boxing ring. Joseph gave me one last look. His eyes wide with adrenaline, his face brushed with pink. He ran his hands through his hair and breathed in deeply, which I knew meant he was really nervous, and he stepped into the ring.

Muscles locked and knees bent. They circled each other slowly. The voices of men chanted on either side, indistinguishable from one another. It was just testosterone-filled noise, like clouds clashing in a storm.

Sukh moved lightly, swiftly, on the balls of his feet, as he looked for an opening to begin the brawl. Joseph moved more slowly, and it scared me. He was lumbering, weak from lack of food and water, stiff from being tied to a tree for two days. A crack opened inside my throat as I realized he could lose. That it was likely he would lose. And I felt like I was choking.

The first blow seemed small, a snap-like lightning as Sukh kicked Joseph in the side of his thigh but, by the way he buckled, it must have caused some damage. Joseph doubled over, rubbing his hand over his injured leg. He stared down at the red welt on his thigh, and the small, dark man took the opportunity to knee Joseph in the stomach twice before springing back and putting distance between them, dancing from foot to foot.

I felt it in my own stomach, the way the pain spread from the impact point and radiated out, covering my whole middle. Joseph fight, I urged, silently. Hurt him.

Sukh’s sharp knee in his abdomen woke Joseph up and he moved with purpose. Fists up guarding his face, he swung through the air, but the punch barely grazed the side of his opponent’s face. I tensed, waiting for the recoil, but Sukh smiled and danced within Joseph’s reach. Joseph grabbed Sukh’s arm and wrenched him forward. Hope pressed in on me, as Joseph kneed the ball of muscle and scars in the stomach once, holding him on either side of his chest like he was a doll. He managed a punch to the ribs as well, and Sukh fell in the dirt, face first.

I sighed in relief and felt my body relax, and so did Joseph’s.

It took only a second, but that was all you needed, right? Sukh sprung back on his muscled haunches as Joseph straightened and swept his leg across the dirt like a metal detector, kicking Joseph’s legs out from under him.

I heard Rash swear from across the circle.

“Get up,” Pelo urged.

Joseph fell to his knees, and his opponent took the opportunity to elbow him in the head.

Blood spurted from Joseph’s nose and flowed down his chest, my own arteries splitting inside me.

I watched it happen, slow, like hours were passing, even though it was only a few seconds. It sounded dull, like wood hitting damp mud: Thwack! Thwack! Thwack! As Joseph was hit on the side of the head, under his jaw, and then kicked in the chest. Acid rose as he fell in front of me, his eyes closed. It was too familiar.

I screamed in panic, in fear, in anger. The rope dug into my wrists as I leaned forward, trying to broach the distance between us. But it was useless. The post wobbled behind me but didn’t budge.

Sukh stood over Joseph, his foot raised, his heel about to come down on the base of Joseph’s skull. No, no, no, no… Not like this. My eyes bounced frantically from Joseph’s body lying motionless in the dust with his hands tucked under his chest to the Survivors across the yard. Rash was wincing, Pelo looked at the ground but Gus, the others, they were smiling.

Confusion seeped into every bone in my body. Were they glad they’d be rid of me, even if it meant they would be captured by the Superiors? No. Gus maybe, but not the others, not Matthew.

I stared at that foot, hovering over Joseph, ready to break him.

Then I watched as Joseph’s hands surged back and he pushed into a crouch, knocking Sukh onto his back. Shocked, he didn’t react in time, and Joseph was over him. With strength on his side, it only took one momentous swing of his fist to knock the man out cold. He could have kept going. Joseph could have killed him, which was what the wiry, dark man would have done. But Joseph was no killer. He was a healer. He held his fist above his head and then brought it into the palm of his other hand, squeezing around it and sparing the man beneath him.

Blood spattered and shaking, Joseph turned towards me and smirked. My bones rattled in my chest. My heart stammered and spluttered. It was his plan to pretend to lose.

No one stopped him as he strode towards me and knelt to untie my hands.

“This belongs to me,” he said with a wink.

He grabbed me under my arms and pulled me up. I hurled myself at him, throwing my arms around his neck and closing the gap until there was nothing but rough, canvass fabric between us. His heart was beating so strong and fast; it was like a fist pounding on my chest. Strong arms wrapped around my waist and pulled me closer still. Not even air was between us now. I pressed my mouth to his, talking as our lips grazed each other. “Well fought,” I whispered against him. “But if you ever say that again, you’ll be the one lying unconscious in the dirt.”

He chuckled, dust in his eyelashes, blood all over his face. It was a sound I’d never get tired of. One I’d always crave. One I’d nearly lost too many times.

“I almost was,” he admitted.

My face creased, the pinch of seeing him collapse hinged over me like folded sandpaper. “I know,” I said, burying my face in his dirt-crusted chest.

They let us go. Just like that. Two, broad angular men, weighed down by their thick, black tunics, scooped Sukh up under his arms and dragged him through a tent opening, while another untied the prisoners with a knife pressed between his sharp teeth. They kept us restrained, pulled sacks over our heads, and led us back to the brick building we had camped in. I peered through the holey material. Now it was light, I could make out vague shapes. Tree trunks sprang from the ground, jagged and black, snapped in half, stopping at my height or lower. The smell of wet charcoal burned my nose. A forest fire must have run through here. I wondered whether the Superiors had anything to do with it, but my thoughts were quickly silenced when a knife handle dug into my back, pushing me forward.

The men spoke in their native tongue, so we couldn’t understand them. Their tone was light and every now and then, they laughed.

When my feet hit pavement, the sacks were removed. I shielded my eyes from the white blindness and scanned the area. In daylight, the place looked even more depressing. This was a town of brick and glass and little imagination. We walked forward, noticing our captors had not moved.

One of the men that we could understand addressed us. “You have two day before All Kind come.”

We nodded and turned swiftly towards our shelter. Our pace picked up until we were running. Poor Olga waddled behind us.

She grabbed the sleeve of my shirt and pulled me backwards. Breathless, she stammered, “Wait. I can’t keep up.” I put my arm around her soft middle and dragged her forward.

*****

We grabbed our gear and threw it into the cars. The hidden keys were retrieved, and we jumped in. We needed to move fast.

Pelo grabbed my arm as I stepped into the driver’s seat. His fingers pressed desperately into my skin. “I’m so glad you’re all right,” he said, “but that was foolish, Rosa. Dangerous. Next time, let someone else take the fall.”

I shrugged him off. “Sadly, I don’t think you were Sukh’s type, Dad.” I laughed, kind of high on the fact we’d gotten away.

“You called me Dad,” Pelo said smugly, his eyebrows rising, his chest puffing up.

“Slip of the tongue, Pelo,” I snapped as I pulled the door closed so he would have to let go of me.

“I’ll take it!” he shouted as he ran to another car.

I pulled at the door but someone had their fingers around the edge, pulling it back open.

Rash’s dark head popped up. “My turn to drive, Soar,” he said.

“No!” I said shortly, my body vibrating with excitement.

Joseph slid into the back seat, groaning in pain and pinching the bridge of his nose. “Uh, I don’t think beautiful blond man wants me to be his nurse,” Rash said, waggling his dark brows.

Joseph snorted. “No, beautiful blond man certainly doesn’t!”

I shrugged and climbed in the back with Joseph.

Matthew hopped in next to us, slamming the door with a clap, and Rash tore away, the wheels squealing and spitting up dirt and gravel. We headed for the highway, speeding as fast as the car would allow. When we found it, we drove a few kilometers and took a sharp right angle turn, driving directly into the wilderness, searching for the river that would bring us right up to the Superiors’ compound.

*****

I could tell every bump hurt him. He winced and held his side like his organs might fall out whenever the car jolted. Matthew turned to face him in the squashed compartment and felt Joseph’s nose.

Joseph leaned forward, and a gush of fresh blood drenched his bare chest.

“It’s broken, Matt,” he said as he leaned back, squeezing the bridge of his nose gently, and staring at the grey ceiling.

Rash’s eyes widened in the mirror. “Ew! Gross, man.” He returned his eyes to the front and swerved to avoid a log.

“Keep your eyes on where you’re driving,” I barked, slapping the back of his head.

He gripped his hands on the steering wheel tightly, as we bounced around in the backseat. “All right, all right,” Rash said, gritting his teeth.

“I’ll have to set it,” Matthew said, reaching up to Joseph’s face. Joseph jerked away at his touch but then he held still, his hand finding mine and clamping. “Ready? One… two…” I heard it snap. Joseph groaned but looked relieved after.

Joseph turned his bruised head to Matthew. “You know that trick doesn’t work on doctors, Matt.”

They laughed.

I leaned my head against the window. I was so tired, so ready to go home, but this was only the start of what we had to face. My eyes blinked slowly in exhaustion, the blur of green and brown tumbling together like the colors were running. The windows were frosted over, but mostly the world looked lush, splashed with green paint. I sighed and let the movement lull my eyes closed. Joseph’s hand was over mine, filthy and crusted with blood.

*****

We lurched over an embankment, everyone jumping in their seats at Rash’s jerky driving style. The nose of the car hit the riverbank and straightened. We turned and followed it, the tires sinking into the soft earth.

The shale grey riverbank stretched into the distance like a tapering line. The tires ran over the flat, sharp rocks, making a clattering, brittle sound.

Joseph slept next to me. Matthew’s eyes searched the heavy wooded area across the river. Soon we would run out of bank to drive on, and we would have to abandon the cars.

His finger traced the condensation on the window in a line that matched the bank on the opposite side of the river.

“Look… there,” he said to me, his finger pressing on the trail he had etched in droplets of water.

I craned over Joseph’s lap and stared out the window. Movement in the trees across the river caught my eye. A flash of black against the green, and then a leap of white fur. The dwindling light caught its honey eyes, and I shivered. We were being shadowed by a pack, or at least one black wolf and one white, weaving seamlessly between the tree trunks.

Matthew patted my hand. “Don’t worry. We’re safe in here.”

I watched their graceful bounds and could almost hear the scratch and rush of branches as they glided past them. They were beautiful. It was a reminder we were back in the wild parts. We were the vulnerable ones, yet again. I thought back to my first journey into this world, their world.

Where are we going? The words echoed in my mind, the cool snap of a memory digging its way out of me. Apella’s mask-like face hiding behind Alexei. Clara beaming like a child on signing day.

Alexei stood like a mirage in front of me, wavering in and out. Into the wilderness, he’d said.

*****

We drove until the bank became so narrow the cars would have become bogged if we didn’t stop.

Tiny shrubs, poking out of the silver rocks like stubble on a man’s face, grazed the bottom of the car as we eased to a standstill. It was dusk, a grey, cool night promised. The vibration of engines shut off one by one until mechanical sounds died, and natural ones took over. The headlights skimmed the water and illuminated watchful eyes.

We were about a day and a half’s hard walk to the compound now. We lit a small fire and settled down to eat and enjoy what little time we had left.

The orange coals glowed but gave off little heat. We huddled together, shoulder to shoulder. When we were done with our dinner of dried meat and canned goods, Matthew stood.

“To Ansel,” he said, holding up his charm.

We repeated his words as we joined him and held our charms to the sky, the Spiders and Rash looked on, not sure what to do.

One of the men slapped Joseph on the back and congratulated him on his fighting skills. Then they all started talking at once in small, rounded-off groups. Pelo came to sit next to me.

“Fascinating culture,” he announced. “Gus, did you know about them?”

Gus shook his head gruffly. “We’ve never come by this route before.”

“Hmm…” Pelos tapped his chin lightly. “Wonder what it is, why it is, that they developed into such a barbaric society compared to the Survivors?”

I matched his gaze. For once, I was just as curious as he was. “More’s the point, how many other mini-worlds, mini-societies are out there?” I said, staring out across the bank, the stars reflecting dully over the navy water. There were so many. They were so far apart.

“Yes! Yes! Precisely what I was thinking.” His tone was clipped with excitement.

I gave him a rare smile. Joseph gave me a very unsubtle knock with his elbow. I rolled my eyes and put my own elbows on my knees, talking with Pelo and the others. The conversation got more ridiculous as we grew more tired. Rash suggested a society that was all women, just waiting for someone like him to discover them and rule as their king. I kicked his shin, but there was possibility in his words. More people, more ideas. I stared up at the stars, their random placement so beautiful. Who knew what clusters lay in the pieces of sky we couldn’t see.

I fell asleep in Joseph’s lap, dreaming of my mother and Orry. A small girl clung to my mother’s leg, Orry sat on my hip, the walls around us crumbling. Mother smiled and pushed the girl towards me, before she walked backwards and disappeared into tumbling clouds of concrete-grey dust.

The air was as a cold as an icicle stabbing my eyes when I woke. I lay half in a sleeping bag, my bare leg poking out the side, I pulled it in and shivered. A bug buzzed near my face, and I slapped at it lazily. This could have been an ordinary day. A day in the life of someone else, who camped and breathed in the mountain air without it feeling like poison. My body shook a little as I remembered why I was here and what I was planning to do.

I could almost feel both children’s hands in mine. I clawed my way from my dream and stretched, watching the others stir from their last safe sleep.

Rash sauntered up behind me and slapped me on the back. “Ouch!”

“Hurt me more when you did it to me,” he said as he came to rest next to me. “God, look at that guy,” Rash said, pointing to the river. “Such a show off.”

Joseph stood waist deep, his back to us. The water rippled around him, unsettling the mirror image of the scruffy pines scraping the blue sky. I smothered a gasp, as I let my eyes wander over all of him. One side was bruised, like a large, purple hand gripped his ribs. It spread under his arm and towards the dent of his spine. But these shapes only made him look more beautiful. A map of experience. He dipped his head in the water and let it run over his face and mouth as he walked back towards the camp. I bit my lip so hard it hurt.

Rash’s laughing brought me back to reality. I stomped on his foot. “Stop it,” I whispered sharply.

“Sorry,” he said between his ha-ha-ing. “It’s just sometimes I forget how much you are like me until I see you act like that…” He placed his finger under my chin to shut my gaping mouth.

I glared at him to stop giggling like an idiot as Joseph approached.

Joseph eyed Rash’s grinning face suspiciously, but then turned to me. “You going in?”

I waved him off, remembering my last bathing experience. I wasn’t anxious to get back in the water. “Nah,” I said, looking down at my weird skirt and bodice ensemble. “I might change my clothes though.” I stood up, swishing my hips and letting the skirt billow around me.

They both laughed at me, Joseph saying, “Good. It’s not really your style.”

I untied the bodice, feeling my torso relax, like letting the air out of an overstretched balloon, and threw it at him. “Put some clothes on before you freeze to death, you’re making Rash feel inadequate!” I snapped.

With a devilish look, Rash raked his eyes up and down Joseph’s half naked body and let out a low whistle. “And how,” he said, as Joseph arched his eyebrows at my odd friend. “But whatever I lack in breathtakingly defined muscles, I make up for with sheer animal magnetism!”

Joseph shivered and pulled on a shirt, splotches of water showing through. I tried to hide my disappointment. He walked over to where Rash sat and grabbed his dark arm, pulling it up and fanning the air under Rash’s armpit. “Is that what you’re calling this smell?” Joseph quipped.

Rash jerked his arm back and shuffled away from Joseph with a hurt expression. “Hey man, would you mind not standing so close to me?” He started to laugh, his best toothy grin blaring in the pale morning, “It’s really bad for my self-esteem.”

Joseph responded by saying, “Shut your face!”

I grabbed my bag and wandered behind the cars to change, smiling to myself as I heard Joseph and Rash teasing each other.

I dug both hands into this moment and held onto it tightly.

We moved like sharp-edged shadows through the brush, weaving through towering trees dripping with moss and lichen, dancing lightly over the undergrowth. The fun of the morning was patted to our sides for safekeeping, because now we were getting closer and closer to the spring trap full of pointed teeth. It could clamp down on us at any second.

Then there was Olga lagging behind us, crunching everything in her path like her foot sought out the most brittle twigs and driest leaves, panting and waddling. Her pale skin grazed every tree. She got tangled in every blackberry bush. I could tell her Survivor companion was frustrated with her slowness, and he checked on her less and less as we approached our destination.

She huffed and I turned to see her delicately trying to pry a strand of prickles from her dark sweater. She looked like a peeled, hardboiled egg, shiny, white, and somewhat soft all over. But she gritted her teeth and pushed forward. I pursed my lips and walked back to her; Joseph stood waiting for me with his hands on his hips.

“You all right, Olga?” I asked, though I knew she wasn’t.

She swiped her forehead and looked up at me from her snagged position. “Fine. Fine,” she answered, finally freeing herself and stumbling forward, crushing a slender, white lily under her unsteady foot.

“Don’t worry, we won’t leave you behind,” I reassured her.

Olga looked at me curiously, her glasses a little fogged up, and smiled. “Oh, I know. That’s why I’m on this side of the wall.” She crossed her arms across her breasts, looking like a chicken ready for roasting, and toddled toward the waiting group. Matthew put his arm on her shoulder and spoke quietly. She nodded, and they continued walking while others scouted ahead.

Joseph chuckled next to me. “I like her.”

“Me too,” I said with a grin.

*****

We hiked long into the night, finally collapsing in a heap around eleven, when our feet felt more like throbbing wounds and our eyes only revealed slit-like images of the landscape ahead. We’d made good distance though, and it meant we were only about twenty kilometers from the wall of the Superiors’ compound.

I clung to the outline of a tree, picking away at the bark with my fingernails, hoping it would grow around me and anchor me to the ground. My feet could dig in like roots, and I wouldn’t have to move on from this feeling. I didn’t want to go from feeling safe to feeling terrified, but I could feel it building inside me. Aside from the two young wolves flanking us since we entered the forest, the journey had been quiet. I’d been able to laugh, smile. That would soon be over.

We slept close together. Olga volunteered to take first watch. No one argued, and soon everyone was sleeping where they sat, stood, and lay. I couldn’t get my eyes to close. There was no fire to disturb the night so the etched shadows were stronger, the noises clearer. But I liked it out here. I thought of Orry, knowing he was sleeping under the same sky as me, hoping Careen wasn’t filling his head with nonsense and Pietre wasn’t scaring him with his snarly expressions. I went over what I would say to Este. I sadly wondered whether I would get out of this alive. It didn’t matter. If we saved those children, it would be worth the sacrifice. But I promised Orry I would keep his father safe, and I intended to keep my word.

My hand rested on Joseph’s expanding and contracting chest. His face was a moonlit shadow, only the sharp outline of his jaw telling me it was him.

I wove my fingers together in a silent prayer and promised.

I’ll keep him alive.

*****

The rough bark of the tree I leaned against made a collage of my back. Some bits stuck, and others left deep imprints. I rubbed my eyes. The light was low over the branches, telling me it was close to dawn. I stood, yawning, turning in a circle as I stretched out my aching back. My whole body froze, responding to a rustle to my left.

My eyes found a bright white paw and followed it to the lowered muzzle of a dark brown wolf. A dead rabbit lay at its feet. It nudged the animal and stepped backwards, it nose still pointed downwards. It was smaller than others we had encountered, a juvenile, almost a pup, its fur down and short. A white wolf stood behind it a little way. I didn’t know if it was female, but it emanated wild beauty. When it stepped forward, the darker one growled, and it immediately lowered its stomach to the ground.

I was still frozen in mid-stretch, my eyes moving wildly in my head. Gus sat up to my right and saw the two wolves. He moved slowly to pick up his gun.

“No!” I said. “Wait.” I pumped my hands gently at my side.

The young wolf backed away, turned, and ran, leaving the rabbit carcass spread over wide, green leaves like an opened gift.

I didn’t understand it. But no one else seemed bothered by the animals’ strange behavior and were just fighting over who got to eat the rabbit. Something tugged at my mind. Why would two pups do that? Where was their pack?

I should have learned by now that the answers to my questions were never good.

*****

The answer swung before me like a nightmarish curtain. Hollow eyes stared back at the forest, stretching to their home, one to which they could never return. I’d started to ask how we would know if we were close, and now the question sagged on my lips and slipped to the ground.