The Wolf Keepers

by Elise Broach

  “I’m here,” said a low voice. She turned to see Tyler at her elbow. He was holding the blanket.

  “You found it,” she said.

  He nodded, but his face was twisted toward the howling, his brow furrowed. “Why are they doing that?”

  “It’s how they communicate,” Lizzie said. “I think they’re trying to figure out where they are.”

  When Tyler looked puzzled, she added, “If none of the wolves were really sick, then Athena is probably here somewhere, too. I think they’re calling to her, and she’s howling back.”

  “Then there are three of them,” Tyler said grimly.

  Lizzie nodded. Three. It was almost a pack.

  “And only two of us,” Tyler added.

  Lizzie nodded again, shivering. “Yeah. So we need to find someplace safe to stay until morning.”

  She took the blanket from Tyler and clutched it around her shoulders, trying to steer a course away from the high, eerie howling that reverberated through the woods.

  * * *

  They walked deeper and deeper into the woods, until the ground began to slope and they were climbing. There were more rocks here, sometimes high mounds of them. They could no longer hear the wolves howling, but Lizzie was sharply tuned to every strange sound carrying through the trees … the rustle of pine needles, the snapping of twigs, the occasional chirp, trill, or hoot of some night creature. Her eyes darted in every direction, scrutinizing the shadows for movement.

  “We can stop now,” Tyler said. “This is good enough.”

  Lizzie hesitated. “I think we need to find somewhere that’s kind of protected.”

  “Well, what about over there?” Tyler asked. He gestured to two enormous rocks that leaned against each other, creating a narrow triangular space underneath that was almost like a cave.

  Lizzie glanced around. “Okay,” she agreed.

  “I’m hungry. Aren’t you?”

  She was too nervous to be hungry, but she didn’t want to say that, so she only nodded, spreading the blanket in the rocky cavern. Tyler set down his backpack and unzipped it. Even though the feast from the snack bar was hours old, a salty, greasy smell wafted through the chill air.

  “Hey, your notebook is in here,” he said, pulling out her green journal.

  The cover was bent from when she’d shoved it inside, before throwing the backpack over the fence of the clinic. “I forgot,” she said. “Try not to get food on it.”

  Tyler rolled his eyes at her. “We don’t have room for it.”

  “Well, we can’t lose it. It’s my summer homework, remember?” School and home seemed so far away right now.

  He pushed it to the side and brought out the remnants of dinner, opening containers and unwrapping foil packages. “Hamburger? Hot dog? Fries?”

  Lizzie took a cold french fry and munched it, assessing their supply of food. “We shouldn’t eat too much,” she said. “We may need it tomorrow.”

  “Yeah, I know,” Tyler agreed. “Believe me, I know about food.”

  Lizzie glanced at him, but it didn’t seem to be a rebuke, just a statement. She picked up a piece of hamburger and nibbled it halfheartedly, still shivering.

  “You cold?” Tyler asked. “Put on one of my T-shirts. And we have my old blanket from the zoo.”

  He dug in the bottom of the backpack and pulled out all his clothes. He tossed a clean T-shirt on Lizzie’s lap, and then the tattered blanket that she had washed for him at Grandma May’s apartment. That day seemed so long ago to her now, her house so far away. She thought of her father again and felt a pang. He would be frightened, searching the zoo for her.

  She wiped her hands on her shorts and pulled Tyler’s T-shirt over her own shirt, bringing her knees close to her chest to warm up. “Thanks,” she said softly.

  Tyler looked out at the dark woods.

  “I can’t believe I’m in Yosemite,” he said. “It smells…” He sucked in his breath and thought for a minute. “Piney.”

  “Because we’re in the woods,” Lizzie said.

  “Where are the big mountains? Where’s that place from your grandma’s postcard, with the ladies kicking their legs off the cliff?”

  “The mountains are all around us. You’ll see in the morning. The whole place is a valley. El Capitan and Half Dome and the other cliffs are on the outside edges.”

  Tyler took another bite of hot dog. “Have you been here lots of times?”

  Lizzie nodded. “Camping with my dad, and a couple of times with my grandma.”

  “Can you tell where we are?”

  Lizzie shook her head. “Not in the dark. And probably not in the daylight, either. It’s a really big park. I mean, there’s a spot in the valley that has a bunch of hotels and campgrounds—it’s called Yosemite Village. But I don’t know if we’re anywhere near that.”

  Tyler munched a fistful of fries, then yawned. “So look at us—we’re kind of camping.”

  Lizzie surveyed their meager campsite, the worn blanket, the sodden remains of their dinner. “Kind of.”

  Tyler wiped his mouth on his shirt, then looked at her more closely. “We’ll be okay,” he said. “We’ve still got plenty to eat. And there’s two of us! That helps.”

  Lizzie was thinking that meant the food would last half as long, but she kept silent. She thought of Tyler sleeping outside at the zoo, night after night, alone.

  “I wish I had a way to tell my dad I’m okay … we’re okay,” she corrected. “He’s going to be crazy worried. If only I had my phone!”

  “It probably wouldn’t work out here anyway,” Tyler said, gathering up the leftovers.

  “He’s probably calling the police,” Lizzie added, mostly to herself.

  Tyler frowned. “Will he tell them about me?”

  “Well, probably. But the police are already looking for you, right? I mean, you ran away a while ago.”

  Tyler didn’t answer, but he began shoving the wrapped parcels of food into the backpack, and thrust a bottle of water at her.

  “Thanks,” she said, thirsty from the salty food. She took a long gulp and the freshness of the water cooled her throat. When she handed the bottle back, Tyler pushed it into the backpack, tugging the zipper closed with such force she thought he might break it.

  “What’s the matter?” Lizzie asked. “It’s not like the police don’t know you’re missing. I’m sure your foster family called them as soon as you didn’t come home.”

  He glowered at her, not saying anything.

  “What … do you think they didn’t call the police? C’mon. You’ve been gone a long time.”

  Tyler turned away, ducking under the rocky canopy of their makeshift shelter and busily smoothing the blanket. “They have a bunch of other kids,” he said. “Seven of us. So sure, they called the police, but it’s not like with your dad. It’s not like they’re really gonna miss me.”

  “You’re wrong,” Lizzie said, suddenly sure of it. “I bet they are really worried about you. Aren’t you ever going back?”

  He was silent for a minute. “Yeah, I guess. Eventually. You think we can sleep here? Under these rocks?”

  Lizzie glanced at the place where the two boulders joined, making an upside-down V. “Yeah,” she said. “But we’ll have to be careful of bears. They’ll smell the food.”

  “Bears and wolves,” Tyler amended, scanning the dark woods.

  “Right.” Where were the wolves? She peered into the shadowy trees. Anything could be hiding there.

  She lifted the heavy backpack and walked down the hill with it, away from the rocks, until she found a small tree. “A bear won’t be able to climb this one,” she called to Tyler. “Help me put it high enough that it’s out of reach.”

  Tyler came down the slope to join her.

  “Here,” he said, lacing his fingers together. She stepped into the cradle of his hands and grabbed the rough bark of the tree, pulling herself up until she could reach one of the lower branches. She hung the backpack by a strap,
high over the ground.

  Tyler squinted up at it. “You think that’s safe from bears?”

  “I hope so. And if it’s not, at least the bear won’t be near where we are,” Lizzie said.

  They made their way back up the hill in the darkness. Lizzie listened to the faint crackle and hush of the woods. It was impossible to tell what was out there. The moonlight barely made a dent through the thick cover of trees.

  Tyler seemed to be having the same thought. “Where do you think the wolves are?” he asked.

  “I don’t know,” she said. “Maybe trying to find Athena.” She ducked into the rocky archway of their shelter, kneeling on the blanket.

  “So now what do we do?” Tyler asked, jiggling from one foot to the other.

  “Go to sleep, I guess. Or try to.”

  She stretched out on the blanket, pulling the other one up to her shoulders. Tyler balled his clothing into a pillow and lay down next to her, covering himself. She could feel the heat from his body forming a warm buffer along one side of her, though they weren’t quite touching.

  She was exhausted, but she couldn’t imagine being able to fall asleep. She stared up at the rocks arching over their heads and listened to the strange night sounds.

  “Tyler,” she said after a minute.

  “Yeah?” His voice was sleepy.

  “What happened to your mom?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “You don’t talk about her. Where is she?”

  He didn’t answer, and Lizzie thought that maybe he hadn’t heard her, or maybe he’d fallen asleep. But then his voice drifted out of the darkness.

  “She’s at a halfway house in Oakland.”

  “Halfway between what?” Lizzie asked.

  He snorted. “It’s a place for, like, addicts,” he said.

  “What’s she addicted to?”

  He was quiet for a minute. “First it was drinking, then it was drugs.”

  “Oh.” Lizzie tried to think of something to say. “And she couldn’t stop?”

  His voice was hard. “You can’t when you’re an addict. Or at least, she couldn’t.”

  Lizzie was quiet. She could sense the shrug of his body without seeing it.

  “She cared more about that than anything,” he said. “More than she cared about me, anyway.”

  “I don’t think that’s true.” Lizzie thought of the photograph of his mother, the one he carried in his backpack. She rolled toward him, trying to see his face in the dark. “I mean, when a person is drunk or on drugs, they’re not themselves,” she said slowly. “So whatever your mom did then, that’s not really who she was.”

  Tyler didn’t answer.

  “At least she’s still alive,” Lizzie said.

  He sighed. “She was in rehab, but it didn’t work. It’s like she just kind of faded away.” He turned to Lizzie finally, his dark eyes large and serious in his thin face. “Your mom, when she was alive—just for that little bit of time when you were a baby—she was really with you. My mom never was.”

  Lizzie didn’t answer. She could hear the hurt in his voice, and she understood suddenly that even though their situations were different, there was this one big thing they had in common: They were both missing something they’d never really had.

  She wrapped her arms around her chest, trembling from the cold.

  Tyler turned away from her. “Let’s sleep back to back,” he said.

  “Okay.”

  Lizzie rolled on her side and scooted across the blanket toward him, as he rustled in the darkness, doing the same. He pressed his warm, knobby back against hers, and she could feel his entire story, lying next to her.

  She stopped shivering and closed her eyes.

  “The wolves are out there somewhere,” she said softly. Lobo’s fierce, beautiful face rose before her. “What do you think they’re doing?”

  Tyler’s voice was sleepy. “Running and running. Because there’s no fence to stop them.”

  And Lizzie saw that in her mind: the first leap from the truck, the ripple of pure, unfettered energy as Lobo and Tamarack streaked across the meadow. And even though the ground was rough and hard, the air was growing colder, and the wolves were somewhere out there in the night, she drifted off to sleep.

  Chapter 23

  ENCOUNTER

  LIZZIE WOKE BEFORE dawn, when the light was just beginning to change. She had slept in fits and bursts, waking all night long. Twice she’d awakened bolt upright, certain that she heard something moving in the woods nearby. But now that the darkness was turning from black to gray, she could make out the backpack dangling from the tree, so at least their food was still safe.

  She stirred a little. Tyler was lying on his back, snoring softly. Her limbs were cold and stiff, but it was much, much warmer under the blanket than it was outside, and she couldn’t bear to stand up and face the chilly morning.

  Reluctantly, she pushed off the blanket and stretched. Her stomach spasmed with hunger. She touched Tyler’s shoulder.

  He jerked, sitting up. “What? What?”

  “It’s just me,” Lizzie said. “Let’s pack up our stuff and see if we can find Yosemite Village. I’m starving, aren’t you?”

  Tyler rubbed his face with both hands. “I’ll get the backpack.” He stood up, still half asleep, and stumbled down the hill.

  “Don’t you need help?” she called.

  “Nah, I got it,” he said. He used a branch from the ground to pull the backpack lower, then yanked it down from the tree.

  After a quick, meager breakfast of cold hamburger followed by half of the chocolate chip cookie, they rolled up the blankets, bunched up the clothes, and stuffed everything into the backpack. It was heavy and bulging, and Tyler yanked it over one shoulder with a grunt.

  “We can take turns,” Lizzie offered.

  “That’s okay,” he said. “It’s mostly my stuff.” He looked around. “Let’s go this way, over the rocks.”

  Lizzie surveyed the slope. “I think we should go back down to the meadow. Then we can find the road. When a car comes, we can hitch a ride to the ranger station.”

  Tyler had his back to her, already starting up the hill. “This looks like it might be a trail,” he said.

  Lizzie could see only trees, with jagged interruptions of boulders. “I don’t think so.”

  But Tyler was determinedly climbing. “C’mon. We’ll be able to see better from higher up. Then we can find the road … and maybe, what’s it called, Yosemite Village.”

  Lizzie started to protest, but he was getting farther and farther ahead of her. Reluctantly, she clambered after him.

  Breathing hard, they scrambled over the large rocks, then made their way over the bumpy ground. The sun was rising now, the sky turning pinkish gray above them. Already the temperature seemed to be changing. Lizzie inhaled the crisp, woodsy scent of the air.

  “I can’t believe we’re in Yosemite.” Tyler sounded almost cheerful. “I never thought I’d get to see it.”

  “I told you we could come camping here,” Lizzie reminded him.

  “We are camping! Really camping. Without tents or anything.”

  “Yeah, but we don’t have any of the stuff we need,” Lizzie commented.

  “We have food and two bottles of water. And blankets,” Tyler countered. “That’s enough.” He continued his route up the hill, which was steeper now. The ground had become rockier, with a sheer cliff on the right. The forest began to thin out, and the sky above turned from rose to pale blue.

  “Look.” Tyler sucked in his breath.

  Suddenly, the valley unfurled below them. Massive granite bluffs rose high over the dark pockets of trees. In the distance, a narrow white ribbon of water tumbled down a sheer rock wall, ending in a plume of smoke. A waterfall, Lizzie knew, shrouded in mist at the base.

  “Wow,” Tyler said softly. “Everything is so big.”

  “I know.” Lizzie remembered feeling the same way the first few times she came to Yosemite.
The sheer scale was the most shocking thing—how high the mountains rose above the valley floor, how far the streams dropped from the top of the waterfalls.

  “What’s that?” Tyler gestured.

  “I think it’s Yosemite Falls,” Lizzie said. “See how it shifts to the left? There’s an upper falls and a lower falls.”

  “Cool.” He stared, his face rapt. “I can’t believe this is here. I can’t believe we’re here.”

  “That’s Half Dome.” Lizzie pointed across the valley to a curved silvery bluff, shining in the morning light.

  Tyler turned to her eagerly. “And where’s the rock from the picture?”

  “Overhanging Rock? I’m not sure we can see it from here.” Lizzie shielded her eyes from the sun’s glare and gazed out over the valley. “Look,” she said. “See those rooftops, way down there? That must be Yosemite Village. We need to go that way.”

  “Okay,” Tyler said. “But can we stay here for a little longer?”

  Lizzie hesitated. “Sure. Let’s take a water break. I’m thirsty.”

  They found a flat rock to sit on and passed one of the water bottles back and forth, sipping greedily. Lizzie felt a gnawing worry about drinking so much of their supply—they’d barely started the day, and they had so far to go—but Tyler seemed happy all of a sudden, and she couldn’t bear to shatter his reverie.

  “Where do you think the wolves are now?” he asked.

  Lizzie looked out over the vast expanse of the valley. Lobo was there somewhere. Free! The thought thrilled her, even if it was also frightening.

  “Probably far from here,” she said, trying to sound confident. “You saw how fast they were running when Karen opened the cages last night.”

  “Yeah.” Tyler glanced around nervously. “That’s crazy about the vet making them sick.”

  Lizzie nodded. It was still so hard to understand. Karen was intense—she’d been that way the whole time Lizzie had known her—and it was one of the things Mike liked about her, Lizzie knew. But lots of the zoo people cared deeply about animals. It was a different thing entirely to make an animal sick on purpose.

  “I mean, she would get fired for that, wouldn’t she?” Tyler persisted.