by Tess Grant
Phinney stumped over to the kitchen. The maps already lay in a jumble on the table. “Tea or coffee?” He reached for the back burner of the stove and grabbed a spattered enamel tea pot. “I’ll even do hot tea if you want.”
“Sun tea.” Kitty started unfolding maps and grabbed the red pen. “Let’s plot this baby. Where are we looking at?”
Phinney walked over, hovering over the maps. He planted a finger down. “Around here. It’s a new area to you. Pretty deep brush. Let’s get it marked then we’ll take the .45 out for a few rounds.” He planted her drink in front of her. “I know you been itching to get at it.”
Kitty drew a circle in red ink. Phinney tossed a piece of lined notebook paper down in front of her, and she drew it toward her to see what was written on it. Nothing like getting back to work.
* * *
Kitty didn’t need as much work with the .45 as she had with the carbine. The M1 had been the initial adjustment period, and now that she knew how to shoot, this was just slightly different equipment. Although she hated the hefty ugly pistol, she was surprisingly good with it. It kicked big, and her arms would fly, but she never smacked herself with it the way she had with the carbine. The shells ejected off to her side, and there was no repeat of the half-moon dent in her forehead.
Over the course of the next week, Phinney ran her through the usual practice—standing, sitting, lying down, and walking forward and back. They even tried some shots as she brought it out of the holster. Those didn’t make a nice cluster the way her others had, but still managed to thunk the target respectably enough. Phinney sat in his chair in the shade, cackling with glee as she punched hole after hole within the same four inches. “You’re a natural,” he gloated. “Want to start carrying this one? I can take the carbine.”
“No. This one feels too big for me.” She put it back into the holster on the belt cinched up high over her T-shirt. “I say let’s keep it as is.”
Phinney nodded. She liked the way they were a team. He didn’t try to override her the way Jenna did.
As they walked toward the cabin to clean the pistol, Phinney said, “Let’s go over those maps again. I had another kill location come in this morning. Spotters are really having to scour the woods to find anything.”
“Maybe they’re pulling out,” Kitty offered hopefully.
“I don’t think they’re leaving, but I think we’re finally seeing the light at the end of the tunnel.” Maddie rose at the top of the porch and started wagging her rear end joyfully as they approached. She’d kept her favorite sun spot company while Kitty and Phinney were shooting.
“So,” he said pulling the door open, “we’ll take a look at the two sites we have, and see if we can find somewhere in the middle that’s worthwhile for a safe zone. The wolves seem to be ranging farther afield, but I still want to set up within walking distance. Too much trouble trying to hide the car.”
Kitty pulled the cleaning rod and oil toward her across the table, leaving room for Phinney to spread the maps out. She was swabbing the barrel when he said, “These sites are so close together, I can’t tell anything. It could be the same wolf for both kills.”
Hope rose in Kitty. “So we’re down to one?”
He shrugged. “Can’t tell. Maybe. Can you get away tonight?”
“Tonight?”
He looked up from the maps, gnarled finger marking the spot he had last been looking at. “I didn’t like the layout of the safe zone last time. It wasn’t smart. If we go by night, even if there’s a smaller moon, we’ll have a better idea of how the light is getting in, and what’s in our way. The clearing was too tight last time. I never would have seen the darn thing if it hadn’t been for you.”
Kitty continued cleaning, considering. She didn’t like sneaking out. There was too much chance of getting caught, and once a month was pushing it as it was. Plus she, Jenna and Joe were going back to the lake tomorrow for some actual beach time. Joe had to work in the afternoon, so they would be heading out mid-morning. On the other hand, Sam was spending the night with Eric tonight and wouldn’t be back until late tomorrow afternoon. It was also Mom’s late night, meaning she would go to bed early. Full moon would be on the rise in a week, and the clock was ticking.
“What time?”
“Hike up here when you can get away. I’ll be waiting for you.”
* * *
The gravel crunched under her feet, and Kitty yawned sleepily. Contrary to what she had hoped, her mother had not gone to bed early. Anne had gotten home late but felt some weird compulsion to stay up even later helping Kitty alter an Oriental silk jacket she had found last year at a thrift store. It had never fit right. Now the jacket fit right, and her mom had apparently filled some need for one-on-one mother-daughter time, but Kitty was tired and she hadn’t even hit the woods yet. It was nearly midnight by the time she was sure her mother was asleep. She hiked up the lane and saw the glow of Phinney’s kitchen window with relief.
She came up the porch steps, stepping firmly on the creaky parts of the stairs to announce her arrival. At the top of the stairs, she found him coming to the door, ready to go.
“Sorry.” She reached out and took the limb loppers from him, slinging them over her shoulder. “Mom didn’t want to go to bed tonight.”
“That’s okay. Time-wise, this is even better in terms of knowing what it’s going to be like out there.”
Of course, there’s that full moon deal we’re missing out on, Kitty thought but kept quiet. Phinney had recharged after their afternoon, and he was already down the steps and striding out. She settled the loppers into a better position on her shoulder and jumped down the stairs to catch him.
Chapter Twenty-One
Kitty was wilted from the heat. Little to no wind had been moving down by the lake, and even though the water felt great, she was hot. She slooshed into the back seat, already slippery with sweat from the short walk from the beach to the parking lot.
“We’re going to run by the library on the way home,” Jenna said as soon as Kitty was in. Kitty wondered if the discussion on that had happened while she was climbing into the back seat or when she was shutting the door.
“Yeah, okay,” Kitty said blearily, settling back and picking lazily at the pilled balls of faded plaid as the car hummed toward town. She and Phinney had been at it until nearly two, and by the time she had climbed into bed, it was three.
They’d found a good spot though. Phinney had called it a backstop. Kitty called it a brush pile. It wasn’t pretty but it was functional. She had poked around it a little and was pretty sure it had more than its share of bunnies and woodchucks living in it. Still, she’d take a cute little bunny and a fat woodchuck any day over that thing that had come up on her back last month. The only way a wolf was coming through the tangled mess they had chosen was to gnaw through it.
It was in a section of the woods she wasn’t used to, but Phinney seemed to know it well enough. He pointed out two tall straight oaks on the cabin side of the clearing. “Remember those sentinels,” he had said.
She closed her eyes wearily just thinking about it. He had kept her jumping. “We can’t take a shot with all these branches in the way. Clip this one. Get that one. No, shorter.”
Good thing the full moon only came once a month. The lack of sleep from a fuller schedule would have killed her. She smiled a little crookedly at that. The werewolves could kill her too.
“Kit, you act like you got no sleep last night. What’s going on with you this summer?
Kitty forced open her heavy lids and blinked sleepily. Jenna sat with her arm crooked over the back of the seat. “You have been so incognito this summer. And now, when we finally get a day out, you’re staggering around like a zombie.”
Kitty started to giggle. In her sleep-deprived state, zombies struck her as very funny. Unlike werewolves, which weren’t really funny at all.
“C’mon Kit, spill it.” Jenna sounded irritated.
Jenna’s tone made Kitty sudde
nly stop giggling. She looked at Jenna, and then caught Joe’s glance momentarily in the rear view. Even he looked serious. They certainly weren’t laughing.
“I’m worried about you, Kitty.” Jenna said. “I feel like a dork saying this stuff, but I’m not going to clam up like my parents. Are you sure nothing is going on? ‘Cause you aren’t acting like yourself.”
Kitty ran through options in her head. Why didn’t I bother to come up with a cover story? Did I really think no one would notice? She had promised Phinney she wouldn’t tell, but that didn’t matter one way or the other. No one was going to believe her. It seemed like a long time passed, but it was probably only twenty seconds or so.
“Is this about your dad?”
Her dad? Kitty felt like she had been punched. Her dad. Guilt rising like a flood, Kitty realized she had barely thought of him this past week. She hadn’t emailed him either. She looked out the window, the hardware store flashing by in her peripheral vision. What registered was the fact that they had changed the sign, and she jerked her head around to read it.
“Welcome back, Sgt. Lee.”
Someone else’s dad was coming home. Please God, let mine come back too.
Her eyes filled suddenly, and she shut them, trying to damp down the faucet. When she felt like she was able, she made eye contact with Jenna. Joe was watching the road, but she saw his gaze swing her way in the mirror once.
This was dicey ground. Concentrate. Get it together. How could she come up with a cover story when what she needed most right now was a few minutes to get her act together? Jenna still watched her. Was it as cheap as it seemed to use Dad to get her out of this? Her first thoughts of him in days and they were to use him like a shield. Mentally apologizing, she decided to proceed with caution. Give out a little information and let them take the threads where they would.
“It’s been pretty hard lately.”
“Yeah, I’ll bet,” said Joe, shoulders relaxing a bit. “I would be pissed if my mom was out protesting while my dad was gone.” He swung the car into the library lot.
In her sun-soaked brain, it took awhile for the words to form into something she understood. When they did, she sat up straighter. “What protests?”
“Idiot,” cried Jenna, slapping him on the arm. “I told you she didn’t know.”
“War protests,” Joe said, looking uncomfortable at the slip. He twisted the key in the ignition and turned backward over the seat. “Up in Maple Rapids. I heard my mom telling my dad last night when she got home from grocery shopping. She saw her with a crowd of people at that main corner, waving signs and stuff.”
An image flashed into Kitty’s brain of Maddie’s new sleeping place. Sharpies and poster board. So it hadn’t been for Sam to do a fire safety poster after all. “Mmm.” She opened her door. “We’ll see about that.”
She slammed the car door behind her and took the library steps two at a time. Kitty could hear Joe and Jenna arguing behind her. She stopped on the top landing and waited for them to catch up. “I’m glad you told me. I should have known from the start.”
They looked solemn as they nodded.
“I wish she’d told me.” She leaned out and grasped the heavy door latch of the library. “I need to email my dad. Let’s see if anything is open.”
Two terminals were open in the computer cluster, so Kitty hustled to grab one while Jenna headed for the other. Joe wandered off into the stacks. The girl next to Kitty was dressed all in black despite the sultry air outside. Her hair was dyed an unnatural flat black, so lusterless that even the bright library lights died when they hit it. Kitty vaguely remembered her; she had graduated last year or the year before. She must have felt the scrutiny, and she turned to face Kitty. Her face was strangely white, and Kitty saw it had been lightened with pancake makeup. Bright red lips slashed across it, and her eyes were rimmed with thick black streaks. A black choker cut into her pale neck. Kitty half-smiled and quickly turned to her own screen, fighting an urge to laugh. Her stomach jerked rhythmically, aching as she tried to hold it in. Wonder how Vampyra would do when faced with a real creature of the underworld?
She logged in and sat waiting for her email to come up. Next to her, the Goth girl breathed hard through her nose. She sounded like she needed an antihistamine or something. Kitty tapped her finger on the desk. The noise was going to drive her crazy. There was a pharmacy right across the street.
Her inbox showed only a few new messages. One of them was from her dad and Kitty clicked on it first. Questions. That’s how it started. Questions about her summer, Sam and Maddie, her friends. He wondered how she was doing without a job to keep her busy. Not much about her mother. Mom’s email account was through the hospital and she probably wrote him when she worked. Kitty thought with a jab of sarcasm, I doubt she keeps him updated on her protests.
She pulled herself back to his email. There wasn’t much detail in the rest of it; there never was. Some dull jokes about the heat and wishes for her mom’s cooking. But she read the last paragraph three times.
Take care of Sam and Mom for me, Kitty (and that rotten dog too). This whole thing sucks, but I know you’ll bring everybody through okay. It’s hard to do the right thing, and we both need to remember that sometimes life hands you crap. And you have to deal with it. So keep dealing, and I will too, baby girl. Love, Dad
Kitty wrote an opening sentence, stared at it, and deleted it. She tried again and once again after that, but opted for the delete button on all three tries. There wasn’t one thought in her head that wasn’t bitter or angry or sad or whiny. Joe carried a Louis L’Amour past her on the way to the checkout, and Jenna shoved her chair in with a clunk. Maybe tomorrow, Kitty thought as she hit the cancel button and logged out.
As she rose, she looked over the divider at the girl’s screen. There was a picture of a chubby cheeked boy with the same weird dyed hair and white face. An old English font scrolled across the top, “Meet the vampire of your dreams.” The girl raised her head and met Kitty’s eyes. “Got a problem?”
Kitty broke eye contact and walked toward the circulation desk where Joe and Jenna waited. Tears pricked at her eyelids and her throat constricted. I will not cry, I will not cry. All the things that had happened this summer closed in on her in a whirl—carcasses and punji sticks, candlesticks and carbines. Anger at the injustice of the whole thing rose up, and the tears were forgotten. She spent her summer afternoons sneaking away to learn how to shoot. She spent her days half-puddled in sweat from the long sleeves she wore to cover the pockmarks from melting silver. Most of her sleep was riddled with nightmares. And for what? So girls like Ms. Gothic could play at being something wild and dangerous. Kitty had news for her about wild and dangerous. It got you dead. It got you no rest, a sore jaw and a real desire to throw up. It got you pictures in your head you wished you had never seen.
She reversed direction and walked back to the computers. She jabbed a finger at the picture of chubby cheeks and bent down. The girl recoiled and then drew her lips back showing her teeth in a grimace. Kitty leaned in tight and whispered, “You know what? That isn’t real. If the real stuff hits, sweetie, you and chubby cheeks wouldn’t make it.”
Kitty walked away and, as she did, she heard the girl hiss. Stupid Goth crap. Her hands trembled from the adrenaline and she shoved them in the pockets of her swimsuit cover-up. Joe and Jenna were staring at her as if they hadn’t a clue who she was. Kitty stalked past them without a word and was down the steps and out the door in an instant. The sunlight hit her broadside, warm and heavy. Eyes closed, face upturned to the heat, she waited. She heard steps approaching, knew it was Joe and Jenna, and without opening her eyes, said, “I’d like to go home now.”
Chapter Twenty-Two
Kitty stewed in the back seat of the car. Joe had tried talking after they left the library but gave up after a couple of words. He and Jenna sat up front, exchanging anxious glances. Stop looking like that, Kitty wanted to scream. Instead she balled her hands in her lap, w
atching them twist and turn as if they belonged to somebody else. When the car pulled into the turnaround, Kitty yanked her bag over, getting out as soon as Joe stopped. She flapped a hand at them as she let herself into the house. Sam was still at Eric’s house, and Anne was at the hospital, so the house was all hers.
Maybe a nap would help, she thought. I’m overtired, so I’m over-reacting. She tossed her swimsuit and cover-up over the lid of the hamper then took the stairs two at a time. Her room was on the side of the house closest to the big maple and at this time of day was mostly shaded, so it was dim and cool. The breeze puffed the curtains in and out, and the maple murmured as rhythmically as any sea. She threw herself across the bed, stretching herself flat on the thin purple quilt.
Kitty wanted to zone out. She wanted to forget about her mother, the Goth chick, and her dad putting all that on her—I know you’ll bring everybody through okay. Well, what if she couldn’t? She didn’t even know what her own mother was doing.
She couldn’t get comfortable and rotated onto her side, then her stomach. When she ended up back where she started—flat on her back—she gave up on it. Getting up, she pulled some clothes from her drawer. Workshop first. She headed to the barn and was greeted by an eager Maddie, tail thumping against the open door. She glanced at the workbench. No poster board, although the Sharpies were still there. Not in a pack anymore but scattered around loosely, used. Now she knew what they had been for. Those and all those late nights at the hospital.
Kitty sat down on the step by the door. Maddie pushed insistently at her arm with her soft wet nose. Wrapping her arm around the dog’s neck, Kitty buried her face in the retriever’s ruff. “Mad, what do I do? I’m sick of us yelling at each other.”
