by Jordan Deen
“I don’t think they are going to let me go to town. I don’t think they want me to know where we are.”
“Trust me. Get dressed.” She was off the bed and halfway out the door. “I’ll get dressed and be right back.”
Ten minutes later, she returned in jeans, sneakers, and had two hoodies in her hand. “Come on. We are all set.” Outside the cabin door, a white truck was parked with the engine running. The camp was ghostly silent as she rushed me into the waiting vehicle.
“Um… does anyone know I’m going with you?” I asked as we headed down the road out of camp. She didn’t answer. “Brea?”
“Look, the way I see it, I was meant to be your protector. Did they ever tell you that?” She continued before I could answer, “See, my mom was your mom’s protector. They got pregnant at the same time… between you and me I think they wanted one of us to be a boy so we would mate… yeah. So did not happen.” The truck lurched around a corner, slightly fishtailing, as we descended through the evergreen tree line. “Since we obviously weren’t mates, they decided I’d be your protector, like my mom was for yours.”
“Brea… what happened to your mother?” She didn’t take her eyes off the winding road, but I could see the tears forming in her eyes. “Was she…”
“Yup. The night you were taken.” She sniffled. “But that was a long time ago. None of that matters now.” Brea’s porcelain fingers twisted around mine. “You are back with us, and I can fulfill my purpose to protect you.” I’m not sure sneaking me out of camp was protecting anyone, but one thing is for sure, I’d find out what city we were near. Alex could come for me—once he found the book.
“So, where have you been all this time?” I asked, mostly to change the subject of our lost parents.
“I’ve been with another group looking for you.”
“There’s more than just our group?” I asked and she laughed at me.
“You’re kidding right?” I don’t respond. “Wow. They really haven’t taught you a thing. There are thousands of us all over the world.”
“What? You mean werewolves, or Amanas?”
“Well, there are probably at least a thousand Amanas. I don’t know all of them. It’s like an extended, distant cousin, type thing. But werewolves, there are at least ten other packs just as large as ours.”
“What? There are that many werewolves?”
“Yup. Never knew huh?”
Nope. No idea. I’m not sure knowing was really comforting either.
“See, packs tend to break off into sects and live apart from each other. My group lives primarily in Baja now. We used to all live in Oregon, but after what happened to you, we scattered to the wind trying to find out what pack took you.”
“They didn’t know it was the Mares?”
“No. Not at first. My grandmother said it could have been any of the packs. They had to rely on Brandon to figure out who took you.” Seven-year-old Brandon. His whole life had been shrouded in this nightmare. At least my childhood was somewhat normal. It wasn’t until I was almost an adult that it fell apart.
c h a p t e r
EIGHT
An hour later, we’d wound down the mountain road into a small town. Of course, there were no city signs, so I took note of every street sign and landmark I could. The town was so small if I would have blinked, I would have missed it entirely.
“Where are we going?” I asked as we flew past a sign saying highway 26.
“I thought we would start over again.” We exited onto another desolate mountain road, and started climbing again. “I think this place still has a connection for us, for you.”
I twisted in my seat, trying hard not to get car sick, as we went further and further along the road. Brea finally eased the truck off onto the shoulder towards a moss and ivy covered pathway. She climbed from the truck and pushed vines and branches out of the way to reveal a large, rusted gate with a no trespassing sign on it.
“What is this place?” I asked, but I wasn’t sure I really wanted to know. So much for thinking I had control over my future, she’d taken me to the middle of the woods, and I’m no closer to Alex than before.
“It’s our home. Well, our old home,” she said just as we pull around the final bend to a large opening. My palms started to sweat; there was no way this could be a good thing.
A grouping of no more than a dozen abandoned cabins peppered the large clearing. Most of the windows and doors were boarded up; the eerie ghost town held no significance for me, and looked like a deserted village from a horror flick. Unknown dangers could be waiting behind any of the many ramshackle doors or windows.
“Come on.” Brea exited the truck and headed to a large two-story cabin in the middle of the clearing. “That,” she points, “was your place. And that over there,” she points to another, “was the one I shared with my parents.”
“You didn’t have any siblings?”
She cleared her throat uncomfortably, “Well, I did. I had a brother.”
“Oh no, don’t tell me he was killed too.” The Amanas future relied on Brandon, mating him was more important, so risking him and the pack for me, made no sense.
“No, I never met him actually. He was taken as a baby like you were. My grandmother said that was common back then. Babies were stolen from packs to keep them from expanding. Plus, anything that made a baby unique, hair, eye color—anything—made them a target for suspicion of the prophecies. See, they believed if they took a baby before they mated, then the baby would just remain human. No bonding would happen and there would be no need for a transformation or a union.”
“So, your brother was never found?” She pushed open the door to my family home. The furniture, now covered in white sheets, looked like it awaited its masters to return. The high ceilings held various ornate lights. Empty picture frames hung on the walls. Some of the boarded windows were broken, and part of the hallway looked like it had been burned.
“I never knew him,” Brea whispered picking up a trinket from the fireplace mantel. “I’ve never stopped thinking of him. Or finding him.” She handed me the rock crystal. “I’m going to my family’s place for a minute. I’ll let you have a few minutes here. Just be careful, okay?”
I walked through the hallowed rooms; all were cluttered with broken furniture and lost dreams. More empty frames clung to the walls, and broken glass scattered across the floors. Climbing the stairs, I couldn’t feel less connected to a place than here, until I found the nursery. My nursery. The crib from Brea’s photo was broken in the corner; hints of blood stained the pink and white throw rug wadded against one of the walls. Two crocheted blankets clung to each other under the shattered pieces of crib. One had the initials BM the other had LT. One for me—One for Brea. We were best friends from birth. Her poor mother died for mine, and she would die for me. I’d have to tell her Alex would come, that he would fight for me. I couldn’t put her in danger like her mother was, and there were already too many deaths on my hands.
With the blankets in hand, I headed further down the hallway to the master bedroom. The canopy bed was covered in black sheer fabric, even though the room looked like its owners would return at any moment. A monument to their love with dried flowers and a photo of my real parents adorned a bedside dresser. A small ivory tray with incense powder on it, set next to the bed, along with different ornate bottles that reminded me of Serena’s cabin. I sat in the lone chair in the room, soaking in all the memories and love the room held. Their adoration for each other seeped from the walls, the carpet, the furniture—everything was coated in it. The flowery wallpaper, and classic grouping of furniture, still smelled like gardenia and lavender. Time stood still and preserved their essence for me to witness at that very moment.
I lingered in the feeling, letting it wash across my skin, until an unfamiliar melody vibrated in my throat. I rocked back and forth in the chair that my mother probably held me in. Then, I’m drawn out of the chair, dancing to the tune playing in my head. But my clumsy
feet found one of the only wrinkles in the rug. I tumbled face first onto the floor before I could brace myself for the fall. My cheek, nose, lips, and forehead smacked squarely onto the wooden floor, blocked only partially by the thin throw rug next to my mom’s side of the bed.
A brass ring under the dresser caught my eye from my mangled position on the floor. It was just barely out of reach. I pulled and pushed myself closer to the dresser, until my cheek was pressed up against it. Finally, I grasped the knob, but it didn’t budge.
The dresser, one of those heavy hand-carved wooden pieces, wouldn’t move regardless how much I tried to leverage the ends, the corners, the top, or the bottom. This had to be why they didn’t take any of the furniture from the room; it would have taken five men to carry.
I didn’t want to do it, but I retrieved a piece of the broken crib slat and leveraged it behind the dresser until it finally teetered and fell forward. Luckily, I removed all the vials and my mother’s things, before the massive dresser crashed to the ground. But I quickly learned it was worth the destruction. Symbols etched into the floor surrounded the square compartment. One twist, and a yank on the brass ring, opened the hidden safe. The only items in the small cedar lined vault were a few pictures, a small leather bound journal, and a family histology book like the ones Serena had shown me. They never knew what happened to my parents’ book, but I did. I knew what happened. My mother hid it well.
“Hey, you still in here?” Brea called from downstairs. I couldn’t let her see what I had done to the room. As I hid the journal and book under my hoodie, a long necklace with a small red glass vial, and ornate jewel encrusted crescent moon, tumbled to the floor. I swiped it up quickly and slipped it back into the book. Not wanting to miss my chance at having something of my mother’s, I grabbed the incense tray and a few vials from the dresser, hoping no one would miss them.
“Coming!” I yelled and rushed out the door before she could come all the way up the stairs.
“What were you doing?” She asked and pointed at my face. I brushed the dust off from my fall and tried to play it off.
“I was poking around. Look what I found!” Thankfully, the baby blankets distracted her.
“Oh, my God! How cool is that!” She threw her arm around my shoulder and escorted me back down the stairs. “These have to be the same ones from the pictures. I always wondered what happened to them.”
“They were under the broken crib,” I said as we climbed back into the truck.
“Did you find anything else?” I’m sure she had been in my mom’s room before. Someone would miss the incense. “I found this.” I pulled the ivory tray from my pocket and a few rose colored vials. “I hope no one will mind. I just wanted something of my mother’s.”
“I wondered if you would take those. I’ve seen them before. I’m sure she would have wanted you to have them.”
“I hope you’re right.”
We drove in silence most of the way back down the road and onto the freeway. My fingertips rubbed the smooth vials in my pockets. My mother’s journal and family book shifted back and forth under my hoodie in my waistband. When I thought she wasn’t paying attention, I slipped them from my pants into the side pocket of the truck. They’d be safe there until we got back to camp, then I’d have to find a really good hiding place for them.
“Do you want to stop in town and get a car charger for our iPods? We can charge them on the way home. I don’t think we’ll have time to do anything else.”
“Do you think we could get some more candy?” With my sweet tooth revived, I craved the sticky-sweet goodness that my body was denied for all those months. Donuts sounded so good, I’d even try to make them myself if I had a recipe.
“Yea, we can get some more candy and work up a good sugar-high for when we get back.”
“Do you think they’ll be ticked off at me?”
“No.” She smiled. “They are going to be pissed at me. You can’t tell them I took you back there.”
“Why not?”
“Most of the pack is superstitious. None of them have been back to the old camp since you were taken.”
“Really? Is that why everything was left the way it was? Why there was still furniture and stuff?”
“Yeah. No one wanted to even touch anything. Serena took the pictures from your house, but left everything else undisturbed. They don’t even know that I’ve gone back. They would kill me if they found out I took you there. They think the Mares monitor that camp for you to return. How stupid is that?”
That wasn’t so farfetched. Considering they’d lost me, I could see them returning to the spot they found me in the first place. Sophie was smart enough to know they wouldn’t return to the scene of the crime with their precious cargo, but the Amanas hadn’t taken me far from there. If Alex knew where they originally took me from, then he’d find the new camp without any problems. Just a quick trip on the highway, and we’d be together again.
“So we’ll get a charger, some candy, and be on our way,” Brea said parking the truck in front of a row of shops. The thrift store at the end caught my eye.
“Hey, mind if I run in there? I really want some new clothes.” I headed towards the shop before she could answer.
“I could use some things, too.” She pulled her small bag from the truck and followed me on the sidewalk. With the three huge suitcases she showed up with, I doubted she needed a thing. Deep down, she still didn’t trust me to go by myself.
We pulled through rack after rack of vintage clothes, some were awesome, others I wouldn’t have used as dishrags. “What about this?” She pulled a black sweat suit from the rack. We both thought it had potential, until we saw the bedazzled cow on the back. The garment quickly went back on the rack, and we started mooing quietly to each other so the sales clerk couldn’t hear. She looked cross at us a few times when we couldn’t contain our giggles.
“So, did you and Jillian used to do things like this?” Brea asked pulling through a few vintage band shirts. “Sorry, Lily told me about your ex-best friend.”
“Yeah.” I cleared my throat, trying to swallow a gumball that miraculously decided to materialize at the mention of my ex-BFF. “We used to go shopping and to the beach and stuff.”
“Well, I guess I can’t really replace her,” she smiled, “since there are no beaches near here.”
Brea tried so hard to fill Jillian’s shoes. Nicole tried too. But, I didn’t really see either of them in my future. “We could find something else to do in the meantime.”
“In the meantime?”
“Yeah, you know, until we are able to get back to a place with a beach.”
“There’s a movie theater and a bowling alley down the highway in Sandy.”
“That sounds like a plan. But, I doubt they’ll let us back out again together after this.”“Yeah, we better get going. I’m already going to be in deep trouble, and they’re probably grilling Catch. I told him we wouldn’t be gone longer than two hours.”
“Okay, promise we will try to come to the movies another time then. At least, we can have something to look forward to.”
“Well, that is, if they don’t throw me and Catch out of camp for this stunt.” Brea laughed and mooed again, making me bust up laughing. “I’m definitely taking these and these. Sure you don’t want those sweats?” she asked, and I shook my head no as she loaded six shirts, four pairs of pants, and two new hoodies onto the counter. Two new outfits may not have been worth all the trouble I would be in, but the two books that awaited me in the truck, were. There wouldn’t be one page of the books I wouldn’t scour.
“So, we know what we are going to say, right?” she asked.
“Yeah,” I said as we pulled around the last bend to camp.
“If either of us deviates, we are dead,” she added.
In the center of the camp, more than two-dozen men had gathered. Some I recognized, others I didn’t. “Uh-oh,” Brea whispered, “they called in the cavalry.” I grabbed the books quic
kly and shoved them back into my waistband.
As soon as she brought the truck to a stop, the truck was swarmed. Men immediately pulled her from the driver’s side and me from the passenger’s side. Brea kicked and screamed at them to put her down. A blanket was tossed over my head and the bag of contraband clothing was ripped away from my hand. Thankfully, the books were secured against my stomach under my jeans and hoodie. Hand upon hand pulled and grasped at my arms and legs until my feet no longer touched the ground, and one set of arms tightened around my back and legs to cradle me. You’d think I had been hurt or something. Brea and Catch’s screams grew further away.
“Can you people get any more absurd?” I mumbled. Seriously? We were in camp, we came back together, but they felt it necessary to toss a blanket over me like they were shielding me. From what? Paparazzi? HELLO? Middle of nowhere, anyone? Could werewolves be tracked down by paparazzi anyway? I didn’t think so.
When I’m finally put down, my legs wobbled beneath my weight, and the blanket was yanked off my head. I almost fell over as the scratchy wool fuzz stuck on my hoodie and hair as it passed over each.
“What the hell were you thinking?” Brandon screamed just inches from my nose. I shuddered, jerking my head back, to get the smell of Brandon’s hatred out of my nostrils. His eyes were bloodshot. His normally fair skin was the color of the crimson bedspread from Bed and Bath I tried to talk my ex-mother into buying my freshman year of high school because it was the most beautiful color I had ever seen—however, on Brandon, it wasn’t so nice.
“You take off with Brea, leave no note, and tell no one that you’re leaving… God, Lacey!” He slams his fist onto the small desk in my room, cracking the corner completely off.
“Brandon, I…” He doesn’t let me finish.
“No. Shut up. I’ve had enough. I don’t want to hear your excuses. All I want is one answer. That’s all, just one.” I nodded. “Where did Brea take you?”
