She grinned, showing her sharp white teeth, and looked up into the sky as she thought. “Oh, there have been so many over the years, so many… But I think my favorite has always been Lupa.”
“And…just what are you supposed to be?”
“Don’t you remember?” she asked, and I answered her with an empty stare. “I am the spirit of all wolves, the memory and essence of our species. Our totem, you could say.”
Black birds appeared out of the darkness of the trees and circled down around us. Crows and ravens whirled around the fire like a curtain of iridescent wings, and yet the only sound they made was the dry rustling of their feathers. Some of them landed and stared at me, switching their heads side to side to look.
The wind from their wings fanned the fire and it rose higher as bright yellow sparks reached for the moon. Overhead, the shadow of a huge raven blocked out the moon for a moment as it circled over us all.
Something was very wrong, this didn’t feel like a dream. I felt the wind and the heat from the fire around my face. I smelled the smoke and the tang of pinesap. I felt… here…
“You will change, and so will your mind…” The woman—spirit—whatever; stood and walked around the fire. “When you accept me into your life, you will fulfill your dreams.” The fire flared up and blocked her from view, and when the flames receded the woman was gone. A porcelain white wolf walked where the woman had been and continued around the fire. My heart sped up, and it spoke in my mind with the woman’s voice.
“I am a part of you, a part of your destiny. You were marked by Brother Raven; you don’t have a choice anymore.” Even though I wanted to ignore the creepy words, I felt a strange feeling of longing curl inside me. I reached out and touched the wolf’s coat, which flickered red and gold in the firelight. It was coarse, but soft, and I buried my fingers in the thickness of it. She pushed her ear into my hand and looked into my eyes. The ethereal dreamscape blurred and grew foggy as I focused on her eyes, so familiar…
“Go to him, he will teach you…” And she sunk her teeth into my hand.
I dozed in delirium, and the pounding in my head seemed almost audible as voices echoed in the darkness. I floated though the abyss until something cool wrapped itself around me. Slowly, the fog cleared and I felt the oppressive weight of my body again.
I cracked my eyes open and realized that I was curled up on the pile of dirty clothes on the floor with my hand buried in the pocket of my jeans. I pulled my hand out and a silver necklace slipped through my fingers, a five pointed star dangling from the chain. The cool soothing sensation evaporated as soon as the necklace left my grasp, and I quickly retrieved it as the fever tried to ramp back up.
“What the hell?” I remembered that boy from art class, Fen, slipped something into my pocket while he was carrying me to the nurse’s office. He’d said, ‘The silver should help’. I struggled to remember what else he’d said. I remembered those creepy amber eyes, just like the woman in my dream. Fen had said something about changing very fast and… somebody recognizing him?
Then it clicked.
‘He recognizes me’—Fen’s eyes—‘Who?’—the silhouette from my dream in the park—‘Your wolf’— two eyes blazed with feral amber fire, intense and alien in a human face.
“You’ve got to be kidding me…” I muttered. Now I knew who bit me, but I had no idea why. This was starting to sound like some B-rate monster movie.
I felt a tug inside my chest again, like I had that night in the woods. I staggered to my feet, dizzy, and gripped my bookcase to hold myself up as I looked out the small window high on my wall. Outside, the moon crawled into the sky beyond the jagged mountain skyline.
“You’ve got to be kidding me.” I said again as war broke out inside my head. I looked down at the silver pentagram necklace in the dim twilight of my dungeon and laughed. “Impossible.” I glanced at the moon outside the window, and finally crawled back into bed as I slipped the necklace over my head.
I couldn’t think. Or maybe I just didn’t want to…
Chapter 3 – Denial
In the morning, rational thought returned. I threw my sheets back and sat on the edge of the bed while I held my head. I still didn’t feel one-hundred percent, but I felt leagues better. I also felt claustrophobic and restless.
While I sat there, I thought about the night before while shame and anger rotted inside me. I couldn’t believe I’d actually believed that shit, even for a moment.
Werewolves? Really? That’s pathetic, even for you.
Guess I’d have to lay off the late-night novel reading for a while to remember what the real world was. I also had to go back to school and deal with the asshole that bit me, but at least I’d be out of the house. I wasn’t happy about having to play catch-up right off the bat either, but I didn’t have a hell of a lot of control over that.
I really wanted school to work out. Just once in my life, I wanted to actually do something right.
I went upstairs, showered, and brushed my teeth. I looked at my hand where the wolf in the dream bit me. The wounds had already closed over with shiny new scar tissue. Not even a scab remained. The flesh around the wounds looked puffy and flushed but otherwise healthy.
On a masochistic whim, I pulled out the scale stashed beneath the sink and stepped on it. My mood darkened even more when I realized that I’d gained weight since the last time I measured. Just skippy.
I threw the scale back in the cabinet and Fen’s necklace bumped against my chest. I grabbed it in my fist to tear it off, and some whispered thought I couldn’t quite grasp stayed my hand. Grumbling, I grabbed my backpack and headed out with Jake into the painful morning sunshine, the necklace hidden under my shirt.
If my brain had been working right it would have clicked sooner, but now it all made perfect sense. It was a new town, at an obscenely new altitude, with new bugs. I’d probably already had the damn flu brewing, and then passing out after that delusional freak attacked me in the middle of the night just gave it a foothold. The fact that he happened to be nuts—and decided to gnaw on me—was nothing more than coincidence.
I sat as far from him as I could in the art room and refused to look at him even though I could feel his stare. The bell rang and I felt his hand touch my shoulder as I stood to leave. I ground my teeth and turned to face him. “What do you want?”
“Your wolf is waking up. I want to help you—”
“Help me what? Become a ‘wolf’? Really? Wow. So, what, we’re going to transform under the full moon and run around howling and eating babies?” I snapped.
Fen blinked at me, confused. Apparently the thought that I wouldn’t buy into his game hadn’t even crossed his mind. The guy just didn’t take a hint did he?
“I can’t believe this shit. First, you chowed down on my hand in the middle of the night. Then, you stuffed a pentagram into my pocket—which was creepy enough on its own—and now you’re spouting this crap? Werewolves are just a Dark Age superstition from when the world was flat and tomatoes were poisonous. They’re. Not. Real. And eventually you might just grow up, pull your head out of your little fantasy world, and join the rest of the twenty-first century.” I blinked as I realized just how much I sounded like John. “Just leave me the fuck alone Fen. I’m not as dumb as I look…” I turned and left him, rubbing the back of my hand. Better to just leave him to his little werewolf fantasies.
Let him chew on somebody else next time…
As I walked away, I remembered I was wearing his necklace. I thought of giving it back to him for half a second, but decided to keep it instead to spite him.
The doorway to the locker room loomed like the gaping maw of my own personal hell. Instead of sulfur, the damp stench of mildew and body odor matched the jaundiced yellow lights and tiles. I followed some other students into the classroom beside it and took my customary chair in the back corner. I warily observed the other kids as they took seats around the room, and sure enough, my class hosted a parasitic infection of
neck-less meat-heads. It looked like I was going to share the class with about fifteen teenage Johns… Why, God; why did we have to take gym classes?
Mr. Parkman took roll while his assistant Jeremy wheeled in a TV cart. Nutrition and hydration was the topic of the week. While they were preoccupied, a muscular guy a couple inches taller than me with short peroxide-blonde hair, and a stocky redhead with severely freckled skin, leaned in toward each other conspiratorially, whispering and pointing at some of the other students in the class.
I recognized the tall one from the assembly; he seemed to love being the center of attention. He caught me watching them and I looked away. I swallowed against the sick feeling in my stomach, and when I glanced back, they were both looking at me. They looked away and chuckled at some inside joke I had a horrible feeling that I’d find out about someday.
I hunkered down lower in my seat and wished I could make myself invisible while the teachers got the program rolling. I thought torture was illegal in the United States, but the film that wasted the next forty-five minutes of my life proved me wrong. The animated food pyramid that hopped around with a pointing stick through most of the vintage seventies program made me want to crawl into my backpack and die. Where art class virtually flew by, the hour and fifteen minutes of P.E. hell crawled like a legless zombie. Near the end of class, Mr. Parkman assigned me a padlock and funneled the class into the locker room until the bell.
I kept my eyes glued to the floor as I walked past the other guys changing out of their gym clothes. I felt my face heat and hoped nobody saw it. I found a locker in the corner at the far end of the room in the most private location I could find. Something sticky on the latch smeared on my hand, and I went to the sink to wash it off while I tried not to think about what it could’ve been.
I deftly avoided my reflection in the mirror. I knew what I’d see; an overweight loser with spiky black hair and dusky skin. Flabby, ugly, and stained by the genetics of a deadbeat father; I looked like a trainwreck of German and First Nations genetics. The only things I’d obviously inherited from my mom were her dark blue eyes, which looked weird against my genetically tan skin. Mom, John, and Jake all shared Nordic blonde hair and blue eyes; leaving me the literal black sheep.
I ground my teeth together while I scrubbed my hands and struggled to shove my dark emotions deep inside where nobody could see. Even then, as I looked at the pigment in the creases and lines of my hands, all I wanted to do was smash them into the mirror and cut off all that hideous skin and fat with the shards.
Movement drew my attention to the reflection over my shoulder. Some of the guys from class prowled down the locker block, poking jokes and mocking as they went, the tall blonde at the lead.
They were just like the kids who’d cornered me on the playground in grade school. The ones who’d sent me home from middle school bruised and black-eyed in Miami. Same model, just different colors.
Fortunately—at least for me—one of the kids in the locker block before mine caught their attention. The blonde and the stocky redhead crowded a slim boy with mouse-brown hair over his eyes. The familiar display made my heart thud in my chest. I glanced up toward the front of the room to see Mr. Parkman talking to another student, oblivious.
My hand gripped the strap of my backpack as I watched them out of the corner of my eye. They laughed at the poor guy’s stuttered protests when they messed up his hair and took his backpack. They played keep-away with it until one of the guys toward the back stepped up and pulled the bag out of the blonde’s hand.
“That’s enough Jack, give him his bag back,” he muttered as the blond, Jack, turned and gave him an annoyed look.
“What’s’a matter Bo, we’re just having some fun with our little friend Doug-y-pooh here,” Jack replied as he smiled and put an arm around the kid’s shoulders while the others sniggered.
“It doesn’t look like ‘Doug-y-pooh’ is having much fun to me,” Bo replied in a surprisingly deep voice, and handed the bag back to the relieved looking kid who squirmed past them to wait at the front of the room near Mr. Parkman.
“What the fuck is your problem man?” Jack demanded as he puffed out his chest and got in the taller guy’s face.
To his credit, Bo didn’t back down. “Just trying to keep your ass out of trouble Jack, you know your dad; you don’t have many chances left…”
Jack snarled and shoved Bo into one of his buddies. “Mind your own fucking business bro…” Jack spat and stormed away as the bell rang. “Malcolm, c’mon!” Jack snapped and the redhead hustled to catch up. The guy who caught Bo pushed him upright again, but then joined Jack and Malcolm with a venomous glance behind him at Bo.
“Whatever you say, bro…” Bo muttered as he collected his own backpack and headed out, alone. I kept a safe distance as we filed out of that foul room and plunged into the hallway’s human current. I passed the elaborate woodwork of the auditorium doors, and got mired down in the mass of students that clogged senior hall like a blocked artery.
My final class was right down the hall from my locker. The English teacher, Mr. Decker, looked like a skinny, bookwormish, Arnold Schwarzenegger. Windows lined one wall of the cramped classroom and tormented me with a bright blue sky, warm sun, and flying birds just outside the windows of my cage. I took a seat toward the back corner of the room and yawned as Mr. Decker droned on about poetry, and then laid my head down on my arms until the bell rang.
After the bell, I stopped by my locker to pick up my algebra textbook. I noticed Fen watching me down senior hall and I turned to leave as a wall of flesh slammed into me like a wrecking ball. I tried to backpedal but my feet tangled and I fell while my papers and books spilled all over the hall.
“Watch where you’re going, fatass,” Jack snapped and kicked my textbook. Kids laughed all the way down the hall as his posse walked past. I kept my face down as I turned beet red and tried to pick up my papers before they got scattered and trampled. My dragon rolled inside me as destructive images flitted through my head, I knew I’d just made it onto Jack’s radar. Someone walked up behind me and I gritted my teeth, waiting to hear Fen’s voice.
“Hey, you hurt?” Bo had picked up my book, and his concern took me off guard.
“Um, mostly just my pride.” I muttered as I glanced around to make sure there wasn’t anyone else with him. When you’re overweight and antisocial, High School is a warzone. If you’re not constantly on guard, you’re upside down in a trash can.
“My name’s Bo,” He said as he offered a hand to help me up. “Are you all right?”
No, I’m not… I slid my fingertips under my glasses and pressed them into my eyes as I sighed. “I’m sorry, I don’t mean to be rude. I’m just—” Embarrassed, insecure, socially incompetent, afraid to trust anyone, pissed off at the world in general? “—tired. It’s been a shitty day.”
“Yeah, I totally hear ya there. You just moved here didn’t you?” The way he said it, it sounded more like a statement than a question.
“Uh, yeah about a week ago.”
“Ouch,” he winced, “talk about short notice.” He handed me my textbook and I loaded it into my backpack. “Well, I’ll see you around man.”
Bo turned and trotted after Jack, and my eyes found Fen. He noticed me looking at him, and he knit his eyebrows and tilted his head to the side. It was an odd gesture; like something a dog would do.
I frowned and scratched the itch in my hand as I turned and left to pick Jake up from school.
The next day I ignored Fen completely, though I could tell he couldn’t ignore me. I caught him watching me in the lunch line, and then he said something to that girl Loki, who glanced at me. Of course they knew each other. Why else would she be out in the woods in the middle of the night? The other students gave them a wide berth; Fen’s reputation was understandably not for normalcy.
There’d been kids in my old school who thought they were vampires, they smoked clove cigarettes across the street and read Anne Rice novels in clas
s. We’d nurtured a successful relationship by mutually ignoring each other.
Werewolf wannabes were a new one though.
Weeks passed in much the same way. Fen watched me from a distance as though waiting for something. I felt desperately lonely, especially when the flyers for Homecoming popped up all over the halls. What was one more dance completely voided by social isolation?
I ached, but still wasn’t quite desperate enough to seek acceptance from Fen—or maybe just too stubborn—to willingly spend time with a delusional freak. Plus, I also had the added bonus of football season to deal with. The hallways oozed team colors and ‘Go Tigers’ slogans, not the mention the flyers that featured Jack and some of the other players in their full black and gold spandexed glory.
Jack and the other ‘dude-bro’s in gym became unbearable as we got closer to game day. Doug and I were definitely on their shit list. Whenever I ended up with the ball I got rid of it as fast as possible. It mostly worked despite the near-constant ache in my scarred calf. Doug had several “accidents,” but I avoided most of their attempts to trip me.
I barely slept for weeks after the sickness though, and a ravenous hunger set in. It wasn’t the first time depression had triggered a shift in appetite, but my clothes didn’t feel tighter. And every night after dark, chaotic and unfamiliar images flooded my brain and made what little sleep I got worthless.
As an extra special bonus, a low migraine crept into the background almost twenty-four-seven. No matter how many times I cleaned my glasses things just wouldn’t focus, and the world looked blurred, like staring through a greasy window.
I thought my eyes were getting worse until one day in math when I strained to make out the formulas Mr. Heinen had written on the board. My eyes throbbed from the effort and I took off my glasses to clean them again and just happened to glance up. The board still looked blurry, but it was clearer than with my glasses on. Weird.
I left my glasses off for the rest of the day and a little of the pressure released from my neck as the headache eased. I didn’t want to deal with Mom’s questions, so I put them back on when I went to get Jake. By the time I got home and went downstairs to do my homework, the headache was back in full swing.
Walking Wolf Road (Wolf Road Chronicles Book 1) Page 3
