I might have screamed, but couldn’t hear anything past the rush of blood in my ears as the world narrowed down to those blazing eyes.
That moment stretched into an eternity. The next thing I knew, my attacker disappeared into the shadows of the trees, and I looked up into the bright sky and the full moon that loomed overhead.
My skin buzzed with electric heat as I cradled my hand to my chest and staggered to my feet. My blood felt cold as it soaked into my shirt, and I stumbled toward the edge of the trees. My vision cycled from vivid shades of gray to a looming tunnel of darkness and back again and I fell out of the tree line. I shivered as the heat faded away into tooth-rattling cold, and the darkness claimed me.
Chapter 2 – Fever
“Hey, are you okay?” A girl’s voice pierced the darkness as someone shook my shoulder. I groaned and lifted my throbbing head from the grass while my mind tried to piece together fractured memories. I moved to sit up and hissed as searing pain lanced through my left hand when my blood-soaked shirt peeled away from it.
“Fuck…” the girl muttered when she saw my hand. I couldn’t help but agree. Blood covered most of my hand and the punctures, swollen and puffy, glistened red where the meat was exposed. “Can you stand?”
“I think so…” I muttered. I sat up and tried to bring her face into focus, “I can’t see though, shit, where are my glasses?” I glanced around too quickly and was rewarded with a wash of vertigo. She retrieved my frames from the base of a nearby tree and held them out to me.
I reached out to take them and something sparked between us when my fingers brushed her skin. Grey and chestnut mottled fur flashed in my mind, and she jerked her hand back. I pushed my glasses back into place with my good hand just in time to catch the look of surprised recognition in her green eyes.
A sick feeling of déjà vu slithered through the pit of my stomach. She seemed familiar, thought I couldn’t quite place her. She wore a baggy black hoody, and the chains on her pants jingled when she stood. Black hair flowed around her pale face, and dark liner outlined her eyes.
I stood and tried to walk, but I only made it a few steps before my knees buckled and I crashed to the ground, panting. “I guess I can’t walk after all…” I slurred.
“Not a problem. Geri, can you give me a hand?” she called into the dark trees, and I winced at the too-loud sound of her voice. Footsteps crunched on the grass—also way-too-loud—as a stocky form emerged from the shadows of the trees.
The boy was about a solid foot shorter than me, but built like a tank. His mouse brown hair was cropped short and spiked over his forehead, and his eyes darted around nervously, searching for something.
“Loki, where is—” he started to ask, but the girl cut him off with a sharp gesture.
“C’mon, upsy-daisy.” The girl, Loki, lifted me onto my feet with surprising strength. Geri took my other arm and they carried me on their shoulders. “Do you need us to take you to the hospital?”
“No,” something inside me reacted violently to the thought of a visit to the E.R., “My mom used to be a nurse, could you take me home?”
“Yeah, that’s no problem, where do you live?” Geri asked.
My stomach twisted and I clenched my eyes shut against the sudden nausea, “Wolf Road… near Seventh…”
“Of course you do,” Loki muttered in a deadpan tone as they carried me between them. They radiated so much heat, my body tried to soak it up as I shivered. They seemed to know exactly where I lived because they drove me home and parked right in front of my house.
I got out of the car and a wave of vertigo swept over me. The streetlight overhead flared to painful intensity before it flickered and went out. I leaned against the trunk for a moment as I breathed and waited it out.
I heard the car door open behind me, and Loki took my arm to help me to the door. Thankfully my knees decided to hold me up again. I shuffled carefully up to the porch, and heard the front door open.
“Where the hell have you—Jesus Christ Jimmy, what happened?” John crossed the porch in two strides and grabbed me under my other arm.
“I didn’t see it happen; I think it was a dog…” Loki said for me as a whisper slithered through the back of my mind.
Tell no one…
“You got it okay?” Loki watched me, concerned.
“I should be fine, thank you again.” I forced a smile for her and let John help me up the porch steps as he thanked her for bringing me home.
“Not a problem, get some rest. I’ve got a feeling we’ll be seeing you soon.” she said and hopped back to the car. The boy pulled away from the curb and they disappeared down the road.
“Come inside; let’s have your mother take a look at you.”
I woke up the next day, and immediately wished I hadn’t. My head pounded, and all the lights seemed too bright as I walked Jacob to school. The argument over whether or not to take me to the emergency room had lasted half an hour, but eventually I talked them out of it. Mom cleaned me up and dressed the wound, and John promised that we would discuss the repercussions of my “little escapade” later.
My new school loomed like a monster from across its front lawn. Kids streamed in through the doors like lines of ants, and I prayed my teachers wouldn’t be sadistic and introduce the new transfer student in front of the class. Ceiling-high panes of glass walled in the front lobby, and I stopped in my tracks when there wasn’t a metal detector waiting inside.
Definitely not in Chicago anymore Toto…
There was a cop though, who stood in the corner scanning faces as they passed. His eyes followed me as I walked by, and I read the name ‘Jenson’ off the patch on his chest; I assumed Mr. Spritari had set him on watch for me.
I checked in at the front office and showed them the signed papers and my class schedule. I slipped in to my first period math class just as the bell rang and handed the counselor’s note to the math teacher, Mr. Heinen. I found a seat near the back of the room and tried to disappear as I picked at the tape on my bandaged hand. Any delusions of having a social life that I might have entertained years ago had died; all I wanted was painless invisibility. Please just let me finish my twelve-year sentence in peace…
When the bell rang, we were herded like cattle into the gymnasium for a dismal school assembly. The principal and a few of the school clubs and teams made a laughable attempt to foster team spirit under the piss-yellow glow of the buzzing gym lights. I spotted the counselor’s dour face in a row of folding chairs with the other faculty. The entire school fit into the gym with a minimum of accommodation; the full student body here was smaller than my freshman class back in Chicago.
After the assembly, I carefully navigated the crowded cafeteria and escaped outside to eat on the front lawn. I watched the smokers across the street with little interest while I picked at my baked pepperoni… pizza… stick… things… and scratched absently at the bandage on my hand
A cool breeze blew across the field and a chill crawled down my spine as I felt someone watching me. I turned and looked over my shoulder but there was no one there. A crow cawed nearby and I frowned, remembering last night, but I pulled a paperback out of my book bag. The harder I tried to distract myself, the more memories flitted around as a stubborn part of my brain strained to remember something, anything, about whatever bit me. The only thing I knew for sure was that it was not a dog…
I jumped when the bell rang and jolted me out of my reverie. The clanging metallic sound cut across the field, and I joined the rest of the students who filed back inside like they were headed for the gallows. I was no exception.
Some jackass junior gave me bad directions, but I found the art room halfway down Sophomore Hall. The teacher breezed through the door as the bell rang, and pulled it closed behind her.
“Hello class, for those of you who don’t already know, I am Mrs. Ashcroft,” she said as she pulled her long straw-colored hair back into a ponytail and then wrote her name on the board, “I recognize most of
you, but to those new faces, welcome! Now, I don’t know what kind of art teachers you’ve had before; but I can assure you my class is different. I’m not just some hippie teaching to make ends meet. You will have expectations in this class, and if you do not meet them; I will fail you. Understood?”
Someone knocked on the door as she passed out the syllabus. She pushed the door open and a blond boy stepped into the room with a note in his hand. “Sorry I’m late Mrs. Ashcroft, there was a mix-up with my schedule…” His sentence drifted off and his back stiffened. He frowned, and it almost looked like he sniffed the air.
She looked over the note and nodded, “Not a problem Fen, just take a seat.”
He glanced over the room, and then stopped and stared directly at me as his golden amber eyes widened like he recognized me. I glanced away as my stomach tightened and a cold sweat broke out on my forehead.
Just like the dream…
He headed for the open seat across the table from me as Mrs. Ashcroft resumed the obligatory orientation routine. I heard a couple kids mutter to each other as he shuffled between the desks and threw dark glances at him. If he heard anything they said it never showed, and he dropped his bag next to the chair and sat down.
My pulse throbbed in my temples and I winced and rubbed them. Ringing filled my ears; I couldn’t focus on anything Mrs. Ashcroft said.
“What happened to your hand?” Fen asked when he saw the gauze. I glanced at him and noticed how exhausted he looked; his eyes bloodshot with dark circles underneath them, like he hadn’t slept in days. Or he was coming down off a drug binge, both were possible.
“I was mauled by a rabid squirrel.” I muttered.
Something felt wrong. My stomach twisted again, and I asked to be excused to the restroom. I only made it halfway to the door before my knees buckled and I crashed to the ground, panting. Everyone crowded around me as I rolled onto my back and willed the world to stop spinning.
“Are you okay?” Mrs. Ashcroft knelt over me, her face creased with concern.
“I don’t feel so good.” I mumbled as she felt my forehead.
“Geez, you’re burning up. We need to get you to the nurse.”
“I’ll take him.” Fen volunteered and reached down to help me up.
I took his hand, but as soon as I touched his skin I jerked my hand back. Something electric sparked from his hand to mine and an image flashed in the back of my mind of gray and black fur. It disappeared in a fraction of a moment, but my skin crawled like I’d just touched a live wire.
Fen’s eyes met mine for a moment, and reflected that same look of recognition Loki’s had last night. His eyes reminded me of something, but the connection slipped out of reach as he took my hand again and hoisted me to my feet like I didn’t weigh twice as much as him. Fen took most of my weight and we shuffled out of the room. I took a breath to thank him, and a violent spasm wracked my body.
His scent, whispered through the back of my mind. Hair stood up all over my body, and my muscles twitched. Sweat covered me and my whole body ached.
“Shh, it’ll pass soon,” Fen whispered as he pulled something over his head and slipped it into my pocket. “Put this on later, it should help. He recognizes me.”
“Who?” I croaked, and winced at the coarse grind of my voice. My head was too foggy to understand his words though; I almost thought he said “your wolf” while splinters of dreams flashed through my mind.
Whatever he put in my pocket radiated a cool exhaustion. My eyes started to close as I struggled to say something intelligent. “Huh?”
Fen sighed, “Let’s see if the change even sticks; sometimes the body rejects it. You should rest though, the first few days are the worst, and you’re changing very fast. The silver should help…” He carried me as I phased in and out of waking dreams, while my body burned.
My journey home was patchy and difficult to recall, as if I’d fallen asleep at impossible times—like walking out to the car—but the important parts were A: I was home, and B: I felt like absolute shit…
Hallucinations ate at my sanity until I wasn’t sure if what I saw was real or not as I faded in and out. I smelled a hospital, but saw myself locked in a cage instead, terrified of the sterile white room that surrounded me as I turned in tight circles and gnawed on the bars.
I remembered people inspecting the wound on my hand, but my memory after that was blank until I snapped awake and ran up the stairs. I barely made it into the bathroom before the bile rushed up my throat. I slumped by the toilet after the retches subsided, and the fever raged like a caged beast.
Could I be done with the puking now? Please?
The last dying rays of the sun squeezed through the bathroom’s tiny window to punish my eyes. Why did it always feel so much worse at night? I felt clammy and semi-undead, so I ran some hot water for a bath and heard a knock. “Jimmy? Are you alright in there?” The door muffled Mom’s voice.
“Dead.” And my voice reflected it, yikes…
“Well, if you feel like eating, there’s some leftover chicken in the fridge.” I listened to her footsteps as she walked away.
I undressed and it felt like I peeled off my first layer of skin, then I eased my aching body into the steaming water. I sniffed and laid my head down on the cool surround. The rational part of my brain insisted the nausea, irrational fever dreams, aches, and hypersensitive skin felt like the flu. Pieces of half-forgotten conversations drifted through my head. John asking a doctor what was wrong. Mom telling me the shot wouldn’t hurt.
The shot. A rabies shot.
I looked at my hand, wrapped up with stained gauze and surgical tape. They thought I was bitten by a dog. I remembered that girl, Loki, saying that when John helped me inside. The girl’s face lingered above my other thoughts for a moment as I idly pulled at the tape on my bandage. The tape plucked hairs out as I peeled it away from my hand and lifted the gauze to inspect the damage.
The puckered pink troughs were barely recognizable, and the worst gouges had already healed. How many days had it been? I thought I was just missing a few hours…
Another dizzy spell swept over me and I sank into the agonizingly hot water. As my body adjusted the pain faded to a dull numb. My foggy mind drifted and my senses twitched out. My stomach ached for meat—preferably red—and tiny things like the smell of mold, or the sound of the TV in the living room, leapt to painful clarity.
I felt loose in my skin, and the feeling triggered a cold but subtle terror that slithered out of reach whenever I tried to pinpoint it. The ugly patch of scar tissue on my calf burned and I closed my eyes—
I ran. Bushes and trees rushed by as I flew over the ground, free and powerful.
I jerked out of the bath, splashing water all over the room. It felt like more than just my imagination—more like I’d left my body for a moment and entered something else’s—and it felt so real! I could still feel the give of the soil under my paws and the tannic smell of the forest floor, before the scent of wet denim flooded it out.
Wait… paws?
My head swam and I pulled on my neck to ease the knots that clenched at the base of my skull. A strange sensation crawled up my spine and I shivered again, even as the water steamed around me. Light flickered brightly through the small square window as a breeze tousled the trees outside.
Claws scrabbled over polished rocks as I raced along the shore of an obsidian lake. The moon flickered as it played hide and seek behind the treetops.
I tried to stand, but my legs wouldn’t support me and I crashed back into the tub.
God, what the hell is wrong with me?
I crawled out of the bathtub on my hands and knees and dripped all over the bathroom rug. My skin felt like it was splitting, and a balloon was inflating inside my skull. My body shook harder as I lifted my feverish face and looked out the small bathroom window.
The light of the full moon spilled over me and I flashed back to that wooded path again as my senses overwhelmed me. The sound of water dr
ipping off my body, Mom’s voice from across the house—so clear it was like she was in the room with me—and the smell of wet cloth. The bathroom light flickered erratically, too bright for my aching eyes. Disembodied voices yammered gibberish in an unfocused cloud of noise, and I thought I heard a bird cawing in the background. My thoughts forgot words, and processed in raw images and remembered sensations.
I pulled a towel around myself and dragged my corpse downstairs to my bedroom. I’d claimed the basement’s blank concrete walls and high windows for my bedroom as soon as I saw it. Mom jokingly called it my ‘Dungeon’, and the title seemed rather appropriate. My dirty clothes sprawled all over the cold concrete floor while my bookcase loomed against the wall, loaded close to critical mass.
I moaned and collapsed into my bed. I buried my head in the soft flesh of my arm and whimpered, panting for air. The fever pounded in my superheated face as blood roared in my ears and temples. I slipped in and out of abstract dreams with my sheets tangled around me, like I’d been running in my sleep. Aching, I curled up in my sweat-soaked covers and held my head.
I’ve completely lost my mind, or at least what pathetic little was left of it.
As I lay there I felt muscles in my back relax and I felt… disconnected. I slipped out of my skin—out of the world.
I opened my eyes and stared at the full moon, looming within a silhouetted circle of towering pines. I sat across from a Native American woman with long white hair, a blazing bonfire between us. Her image swam in the heat from the dancing flames; her face was painted with three thin red triangles drawn down below each eye. Despite her alabaster white hair, she looked young.
She watched me with hooded amber eyes as she hummed a tune in a haunting minor key.
“Who are you?” I asked.
“A part of you,” she answered slowly and smiled, revealing small fangs. “A part of what you’re destined to become.” She hummed her song in between sentences.
Helpful.
“Okay then, what’s your name?”
Walking Wolf Road (Wolf Road Chronicles Book 1) Page 2
