Wolves at the Wall

by S. E. Meyer

  Contents

  WOLVES At The Wall

  DEDICATION

  ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

  What Shall We Do Now?

  Molly The Sheep

  PROLOGUE

  CHAPTER I

  CHAPTER II

  CHAPTER III

  CHAPTER IV

  CHAPTER V

  CHAPTER VI

  CHAPTER VII

  CHAPTER VIII

  CHAPTER IX

  CHAPTER X

  CHAPTER XI

  CHAPTER XII

  CHAPTER XIII

  CHAPTER XIV

  CHAPTER XV

  CHAPTER XVI

  CHAPTER XVII

  CHAPTER XVIII

  CHAPTER XIX

  CHAPTER XX

  CHAPTER XXI

  CHAPTER XXII

  CHAPTER XXIII

  CHAPTER XXIV

  Epilogue

  WOLVES At The Wall

  by

  s. e. meyer

  copyright 2019

  Copyright © 2019 S. E. Meyer

  All rights reserved.

  Cover art provided by Erica Petit

  All rights reserved.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events, locales, and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is coincidental.

  DEDICATION

  For Kathy,

  My best and only medicine

  ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

  I would like to take the time to thank the following individuals, who without their contributions and support, the completion of this book would not have been possible. I would like to thank my illustrator, Erica Pettit for her work on creating such an amazing and striking cover. Thank you to my friends at Amazon Publishing. A special thanks to my English teacher, Gary Cameron, for teaching me to believe in myself and my work. Finally, I would like to thank my best friend in the entire world for over two decades, my wonderful and amazing wife. Thank you for the sacrifices, your understanding, and your endless unwavering support over the years.

  What Shall We Do Now?

  What shall we use to fill the empty spaces

  Where waves of hunger roar?

  Shall we set out across the sea of faces

  In search of more and more applause?

  Shall we buy a new guitar?

  Shall we drive a more powerful car?

  Shall we work straight through the night?

  Shall we get into fights?

  Leave the lights on?

  Drop bombs?

  Do tours of the east?

  Contract disease?

  Bury bones?

  Break up homes?

  Send flowers by phone?

  Take to drink? Go to shrinks?

  Give up meat? Rarely sleep?

  Keep people as pets?

  Train dogs? Race rats?

  Fill the attic with cash?

  Bury treasure?

  Store up leisure?

  But never relax at all,

  With our backs to the wall.

  - Roger Waters

  Molly The Sheep

  I am Molly. I'm a sheep.

  I run, play, dream and sleep.

  I get treatments from the doctor, every week.

  So I can stay healthy and keep my coat sleek.

  But one thing I must never do at all,

  I must never, ever, climb over the wall.

  I eat my meals and help clean up the dishes.

  I mind my parents and do their wishes.

  I go to school and learn things that make sense,

  But I must never, ever, crawl under the fence.

  I stay safe with walls and fences about.

  They keep me in, and the predators out.

  One thing's for sure, I can sleep safe and sound,

  Knowing there is a wall all around.

  PROLOGUE

  Spring breezes pawed at newborn grass along the banks of the Nebisquash river as a young Native American boy peered out from behind a thicket of stunted spruce trees. Shadows played across the boy's fear-stricken face as the earth belched fire, sending black pillars to blot the sun.

  Rather than watch the thick column of smoke curl above the treeline to the east, he trained his attention on a man. A man dragging a Native woman towards the river. The boy covered his ears to mute her cries, rocking back and forth as he watched the scene through the red-orange glow of smoke-filtered sunlight.

  The woman‘s name was Moon, and her assailant had the sickness. He could tell by the froth dripping from the man‘s lips. The unmistakable redness of his eyes and paleness of his blotchy skin confirmed the boy's diagnosis. He had seen it before. The sick wandering onto the reservation in search of food and other basic primal needs. The people who lived in the cities called them crazies, but the sanity of the sick was not entirely lost, merely overpowered. Higher reasoning blotted by the overwhelming drive to attain only two necessities within the hierarchy of needs; the need to feed, and the insatiable desire to breed.

  The illness reduced the sick ones to Awesiinh. That's what the Natives called them. Although everyone on the reservation spoke English, many still used the old language. Awesiinh was their word for a wild animal and, although cunning, a wild animal is what they became.

  Most days the men would take care of such an intruder. Today was not most days. Being overrun with Awesiinh since the white men completed the walls, the sickness proliferated their reservation. The boy watched the Awesiinh burn their homes, kill the men and children while having their way with the women. Women not unlike Moon.

  Moon's screams pierced the air, shrieking with the intensity of a red fox as that man dropped her near the bank. He tore at her clothes as Moon slapped his hands and face. She cried out, pulse throbbing beneath sweat matted hair.

  The man punched her in the nose, ceasing her defense.

  “Shut up. No one is coming to help you,” he said, freeing Moon of her pants and mounting the woman as she clawed at his chest. She writhed beneath her attacker as blood dripped from her nose and into her mouth, turning the color of her gnashing teeth to dark terracotta.

  Pressing against her most delicate places, the man unbuttoned his pants. Moon continued to beat on his chest with white-knuckled fists as the dew-laden grass licked her mocha skin.

  She dug into the soft soil with a bare heel, kicking free, but the man grabbed her by the ankles and slid her back towards him before tearing at her underwear.

  The boy darted from the trees and jumped onto the back of the woman’s attacker, clawing at his eyes. “Leave my mom alone!” he cried.

  The man rolled over onto his back, crushing the wind from the boy's lungs. Standing up, the man grabbed the boy by the hair and set him on his feet. He reached back, preparing a blow to the child’s head. The young boy was too quick and kicked the man in his groin, turning the raised cobra into a dangling grass snake as the man bent over, grimacing.

  “You‘ll pay for that!” the man roared, grabbing the boy around the throat.

  “Run!” Moon screamed. “Run to the woods and never look back!”

  The boy clawed at the thick fingers squeezing his small windpipe.

  “No,” Moon cried, struggling to her feet. “Leave my son alone!”

  The man fought Moon with one hand, still holding the woman's son off the ground with the other. “Lie down and take what I have for you.” he demanded. “Or I'll kill him.”

  Moon took a ragged breath. “You'll kill us both, anyway.”

  “I'll let one of you live. You decide who.”

  Moon dropped her shoulders. “Let him go and I'll do whatever you want. Please stop,” she urged,
grabbing the man's wrist as the child's pale cheek dropped to his shoulder.

  The man laughed, dropping Moon's son to the ground. Moon collapsed beside the boy, checking for signs of life. “Atticus!,” she wailed. “Atticus, wake up.” She slid a finger across his brow, brushing the long black hair from his blue lips. “Breathe Atticus!” Placing an ear to the boy‘s mouth, Moon listened for a breath. “Come on Atticus,” she urged, pink tears dripping from her blood clotted nose.

  With lips on her son‘s while plugging his nose, she breathed into his lungs.

  “Come on!” Moon slapped the ground. “You can't die out here. My only son.” She placed her ear to Atticus's lips. “My sweet boy.”

  Atticus coughed.

  Moon's eyes widened as she rolled him onto his side. “Oh, thank God.” she whispered.

  “Hurry!” the man urged.

  Moon helped her son to his feet before turning towards the man. She stared into his bloodshot eyes. “Wait here, I will be right back.”

  “I'll be ready for you,” he replied while grinning.

  Moon led Atticus to the edge of the clearing, facing him towards the woods. She knelt in front of him wearing only her shirt and underwear and kissed his cheek. “Atticus. Listen, this is important.” She stared into his green eyes. “Run. Run as far away from here as you can and don‘t look back.”

  “Mom, why can‘t you come with me?” he asked, tears welling his eyelids.

  “There's something mommy has to do first. But you can't wait for me. Run, without stopping. Run as fast as you can. Do you understand?”

  The boy nodded.

  Moon stood up and got behind Atticus. “Okay, when I say go, you will run straight ahead. Don't stop, ready?”

  “Okay, but you‘re coming too right?”

  “In a while, honey. I'm giving you a head start. I'll catch up, just don't stop running.”

  “Ready. Set. Go!” Moon said, pushing her son forward with her hand between his shoulder blades. “Run Atticus!” she yelled after him. “Run until you can't run anymore.”

  Moon turned towards the man in the clearing. With a clenched jaw she planted each bare foot in front of the other, forcing her legs to move. One struggled step at a time, she neared, heart hammering at her chest as she stared at the wild animal awaiting her return, readying himself.

  Disgusting.

  Sprawled in the grass she stared at the red disk in the sky, losing herself in its perfect, round shape and thinking only of her son. Thinking of his small frame. Lost in the memories of her son's childhood, Moon removed herself from where she was and what the Awesiinh was doing to her.

  At least Atticus will be okay. My boy will survive.

  CHAPTER I

  Montana Winter Wool stepped into the chilled mud of the Easton river's bank. She dropped her pack and pulled the zipper, fishing out the waterproof bag that held her dry clothes. Anna shivered in the moonlight while drying her naked body, happy to be out of the river with her feet back on dry land.

  Anna dressed and pulled the final article of clothing from the bag, her wool coat, and pulled it over her hooded sweatshirt.

  She removed the gps and turned it on, tapping the pre-entered coordinates of where to meet Atticus.

  We will have words when I see him, Anna thought.

  Making me come out here.

  Anna navigated the thick brush, pushing through the moonlit boughs and bramble thickets. After several hours of twigs snagging her hair and switches snapping her face, Anna made it to the perimeter fence. She stepped out into a narrow clearing.

  Anna scanned the fence with a tense jaw.

  It was a twelve-foot high chain-link fence running west to east from the river. Moonlight reflected the frost-covered razor wire encircling its top, a second line of defense from anything trying to climb over.

  Anna paced the fence-line, referencing the gps. She was thankful to have swam far enough downstream, avoiding the need to penetrate such a partition, however she also knew what it meant to be without its protection. She was in the wilds. The place of terrifying stories and childhood boogeymen. The place where shadowy figures lurked and only the darkness to hear your screams.

  Anna swallowed the lump in her throat.

  The moon dropped behind the trees by the time she arrived at her waypoint, making it difficult to see. Anna tried to take in her surroundings with only a hint of dawn clawing at the eastern horizon.

  Anna took each step with caution, snapping her neck to glance in front and behind her. The stalks of frosted grass swished past the legs of her pants as the smell of frozen foliage filled her nose.

  The fence rattled.

  Anna froze, head cocked to one side, listening.

  She peered into the darkness in the noise's direction with the fence at her right shoulder.

  The fence's links clattered in a sudden burst, confirming Anna's fears.

  Crazies.

  Anna’s chest tightened. She held her breath, waiting, straining to listen over the sound of her pulse throbbing in her ears.

  Anna took another step, and the fence shifted.

  She slid her weapon from its holster and loaded the chamber while sucking in a breath. With ears piqued and breath bated, Anna stepped in the movement's direction.

  The fence rattled with more intensity and Anna heard a whimper just ahead.

  She trained her eyes, straining to make out the shape twenty feet away.

  Another whimper broke the silence.

  Is it a child?

  The small shape moved and as Anna stepped closer it let out a cry.

  With just enough light in the growing dawn to see the animal in front of her, Anna clenched her jaw with widening eyes.

  Caught between the links of the chain fence was a wolf.

  Anna let out a sigh.

  “How did you get caught in there?” she whispered.

  She pitied the majestic animal, bleeding from its front leg and trapped in the wire. Anna moved closer and the wolf let out a low growl while raising its hackles.

  “Shh, I won’t hurt you,” Anna replied, squatting on her haunches to get a better view of the wolf‘s paw. She moved with caution, grasping the cold metal on one side of the wolf's front leg. It whimpered as Anna tried to pry the embedded wires away from the animal’s skin, just above the joint.

  Letting out a yelp, the wolf snapped at Anna's face.

  “Knock it off,” Anna said. “I'm trying to help you.”

  Anna hummed in the growing light, hoping to calm the helpless beast. The wolf lowered the black hairs running along its spine, blending into its full gray coat.

  Anna continued humming, attempting to free its leg from the fence. She opened her bag and lifted out a pocketknife. While using the blade to pry the wires apart, she raised her other hand to pull the wolf‘s paw free.

  The animal bolted away on three legs, then turned to face her. He lowered his head, bowing in what seemed to Anna a gesture of gratitude before disappearing into the forest.

  Anna slid the knife in her pocket as her heart settled back into its rightful place in her chest.

  It would not have escaped on its own.

  Anna took a deep breath.

  Not without leaving a paw behind.

  Anna stood, pacing the fence while checking the GPS receiver. The device let out a tone signaling her arrival at the waypoint.

  Anna shook her head.

  No Atticus.

  “I guess I'll have to wait.”

  Anna set her pack on the grass next to a large pine and sat with her back against the trunk. She shivered while rubbing her eyes.

  I have to stay awake.

  A wolf's howl tore into the silent dawn from her east and Anna couldn't help but think it was the wolf she freed.

  She rubbed her eyes again and slapped her cheeks to stay awake.

  Anna's stomach growled.

  She rifled through her pack and found Jax had packed protein snack bars. Not knowing how long she would have to w
ait for Atticus, she stared at the four snack bars for a long minute before deciding to wait.

  An hour passed as the sun climbed above the horizon, diffused by the forest canopy. Anna continued to force her eyes to stay open in the scarce light, but was losing the battle as time slipped by.

  I'll just close them a minute.

  Anna's chin found her chest.

  Head spinning, her subconscious mind understood the danger, but her exhausted body gave up.

  Anna was lying in bed as a little girl, blankets pulled up to her nose and fast asleep. In a sudden jolt she experienced an intuitive moment when one can sense a person's gaze, or feel someone's presence.

  Young Anna opened her eyes.

  Through the scarce light scratching its way around her curtains from the streetlight outside, she scanned the room from her childhood bed.

  A shadow hovered in the corner.

  Anna‘s muscles tensed.

  The little girl swallowed hard, squinting through the darkness as the shadow prowled her bed.

  Young Anna covered her head.

  Go away, go away, go away.

  If I can't see it, it‘s not here. Anna hoped.

  The floor creaked near her foot board, pushing Anna’s tiny heart into overdrive. She had to look, had to be sure, but she didn't want to see what monster had appeared from the depths of her mind, or the corner of her closet.

  Droplets of sweat formed on her forehead as thoughts stirred through her of terrifying apparitions from under her bed. But this was real. She saw the shadow and heard the floor creak.

  Anna slid the blanket down to the bridge of her nose with a small trembling hand.

  Her eyes widened at the shadow of a man standing at the foot of her bed.

  Mouth agape, Anna choked, her miniature frame shaking below the blankets.

  The man bent over the bed.

  Anna tried to scream, the sounds congealing in her throat and escaping only as a muffled cry. She could smell him. The thing. The animal hunched over her. Watching her, staring, his hand reaching out for her quivering flesh from the shadow of night.