A Girl Called Dust

by V. B. Marlowe

  She patted my knee. “Oh, I know, honey. I told you the other day that you were a late bloomer. You haven’t experienced transformation yet, and being a hybrid, you could go either way. That’s the main reason we’re not supposed to mix across the board.”

  So that’s what she’d meant by late bloomer. She hadn’t been talking about my boobs at all.

  “What do you think is killing people?” I asked.

  “I honestly have no idea. The creatures who kill people carelessly are all locked away where they belong. Clearly whatever it is, it’s going against protocol.”

  I sank farther into the couch, thinking that it would just be easier for them to throw me into the sixth tunnel with the others. If they honestly thought I was the one destroying the peace, why wouldn’t they?

  Fletcher and I decided to hold off on the stakeout since the curfew had just been put into effect. We figured the police would be the most diligent the first few nights, then they would let their guard down. There was always a huge panic after an attack, and then everything would die down and get back to normal.

  Wednesday afternoon I found myself back at the lair. I had questions about the recent murder, and I wanted to talk to Hollis about what that could possibly mean for me.

  I found Cadence in the control room minding the monitors. “Hey. You know where Hollis is?”

  She turned, scowled at me, and then set her focus back to the monitor. “What do you need Hollis for?”

  “I wanted to ask him something.” Not that it was any of her business.

  “What do you need to ask Hollis that you can’t ask me?” she asked. Bitterness dripped from her voice. What was her problem?

  “Never mind,” I muttered.

  Since Cadence was obviously going to be of no help, I sat beside her and watched the monitor, hoping Hollis would show up. I noticed one of the screens showed the sixth tunnel. “What if one of them managed to get out?”

  Cadence sucked her teeth. “Nothing can get out of there. It’s impossible. The tunnel’s sealed like a tomb, and it is always guarded by the giants.”

  “There was another murder.”

  “I know.”

  “The Givers, some of them think I’m doing this. Obviously I’m not.”

  Cadence sighed. “We know that, so why are you worried about it?”

  “In order to keep the truce, they may demand that you guys put me in the tunnel or just kill me. Would you do it?”

  She groaned and leaned back in her seat. “I don’t know what you want me to say, Arden. I know you don’t think much of us, but we would never even think of doing that to one of our own. Frankly, I’m insulted that you’re even saying this.”

  I got the feeling that anything I said to her would be insulting. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean—”

  “I don’t know what you’re complaining about. You have it pretty good. Better than anyone else here.”

  I swallowed the swell of anger that rose in me. No, their lives weren’t perfect, but neither was mine. “I have a dangerous creature inside of me that could come out any day, and the Givers might decide to kill me. I think those were pretty big problems, so what are you talking about? Lately every moment of my life has been filled with confusion and terrifying thoughts. I wouldn’t call that ‘having it good.’”

  Cadence rolled her large bird eyes at me, unmoved. “I’ve been hidden away my entire life. I was born with this stupid bird head. Some kids like Hollis were lucky enough to look Human, so they could go outside sometimes—at least until he got his wings. Creatures like Wes and I, the Uglies, we could never live on the outside. Go to school. Take a quick trip to the store. Hang out wherever kids hang out. Go on a date. I’m confined to this compound, and I’ll never leave.”

  I had never thought about that—what life was like for the creatures who didn’t look Human. I wanted to tell Cadence that she wasn’t ugly, because to me, she wasn’t. She just looked . . . different. I didn’t bother though. She would probably take anything I said the wrong way.

  She wasn’t done trying to make me feel guilty. “You get to come and go as you please. You get to look normal, same thing with Givers. They all look Human, so they have all the privileges Humans have. They don’t have to be hidden away. You can do whatever you want. We only get to watch it on these monitors.”

  “I’m sorry, Cadence. I didn’t realize how much you guys were missing out on.” It had never occurred to me that this underground home wasn’t enough for her and that she wanted a piece of life on the outside. No wonder she hated me.

  Cadence’s eyes narrowed. “You won’t be sorry for long. Just wait until you change. Banshees are typically beautiful, but Wendigos are hideous. You’ll grow fur. Animal ears. Sharp, crooked teeth. It’ll be gruesome.”

  I figured that part of Cadence’s disdain for me had something to do with Hollis. “Listen, I’m going to go.” I almost told her to tell Hollis I came by but decided that wouldn’t have been a good idea.

  “See ya, Dust.”

  I froze and turned back to her.

  “What?” she asked innocently. “That’s what they call you, right? Dust?”

  “I prefer Arden.”

  She turned back to the monitor. “I prefer Dust.”

  I tried to think of a comeback, but I had nothing. Cadence was pissed at me for various reasons and desperately trying to get under my skin. She kept her back to me. “It really doesn’t matter what we call you, but Dust is most appropriate—as in ashes to ashes; dust to dust. Whichever way this turns out, I’m one hundred percent sure it’s not going to end well for you.”

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Friday night, Fletcher and I decided to set the trap in the woods. At a quarter till midnight, I climbed over my bedroom balcony and met Fletcher at the end of the block. The curfew was still in effect, so I moved as quickly as possible, dodging the streetlights and staying in the shadows.

  “Maybe we shouldn’t do this,” I said as I approached him. He stood underneath a tree wearing a thick coat.

  “Go home if you’re afraid. I told you, I don’t need you for this anyway. I can protect myself against whatever’s doing this, but you can’t.”

  “You’re not going alone.” If something happened to Fletcher, I would never forgive myself. He was partly on this suicidal mission for me. So I wouldn’t get blamed for the attacks and also so the truce between the Givers and Takers would stay in place. There was no way I could go home without seeing with my own eyes what had killed those innocent people and hurt my friend.

  “I’m not going to be alone anyway. I’ve asked someone to help me.”

  “Who?” I asked.

  “You’ll see.” He headed toward the woods, and I followed.

  “Ms. Melcher could still be alive,” I told Fletcher as we hurried along. She’d been on my mind, and I didn’t think people were looking hard enough for her.

  “She’s not alive. If she were, she would have contacted someone. At least her parents. Ms. Melcher wasn’t crazy. She was a responsible adult. I’m sorry. I know you liked her, but she’s dead.”

  I wouldn’t believe that. Mostly because if it were me, I wouldn’t want anyone to give up hope. I thought the fact that all the other bodies had been found with the exception of hers meant something. Still, I didn’t say anything else to Fletcher. My mind had become focused on the craziness we were about to partake in. What were we thinking?

  The November night was painfully cold. The chill pricked me through the tights I wore underneath my dress. Even through the gloves, my fingers were frozen. I prayed for my newfound body warmth to kick in.

  “How long are we going to stay out there?” I asked as we neared the woods.

  We paused and leaned against the wall of the dollar store as a patrol car cruised by. The curfew was still in effect, but no one was dumb enough to be out at night, especially around the wooded areas, so the police had little to worry about.

  “As long as we need to. We may stay out there
all night. At least I will. When I transform, I’ll be all right with the cold. You can go home anytime you want.”

  “Are you going to let me see you change?”

  “No,” he said promptly.

  “Why not? I want to see.”

  We stopped at the intersection of Mason and 54th Avenue. I grabbed Fletcher’s arm before he stepped off the curb. He still had a bad habit of walking into streets without looking first. No cars were coming in either direction.

  Fletcher walked ahead of me, picking up the pace. “Well, you can’t. It’ll scare you, and I don’t want you looking at me funny.”

  “Come on, Fletch. I’ve seen some pretty strange things in the lair, so I’m sure you turning into a wolf or whatever won’t scare me. And I won’t look at you funny. I promise.”

  “Arden, you’ll understand once you start to change. It’s something a creature needs to do in private. Like going to the bathroom.”

  “Why?”

  “Because . . . when my body’s changing from Human to animal, you’ll see, you know . . . my nakedness.”

  “Oh.” If that were the case, transforming was definitely something that needed to be done in private.

  “That’s why I want you to wear my backpack after I transform. I’m going to keep my clothes in it for when I change back. If I transform while wearing clothes, they get ruined and my mom gets pissed.”

  “Well we wouldn’t want that,” I said as we paused at the edge of the forest. Fletcher swayed from side to side. Apparently I wasn’t the only one who was afraid. “What’s the matter?” I asked.

  He took a deep breath and squared his shoulders. “Nothing. Just getting my thoughts together.” But I knew him. He was scared. “This is a good idea, right? I mean, this thing has gone after Givers in the woods. We’ll play the bait, the thing will show up, and I’ll kill it. This makes sense.” He was having this whole conversation with himself as if I weren’t there. He took another deep breath and exhaled, steam rising from his lips. “Okay. Let’s go.”

  I let him lead the way. My body shivered, but not from the cold. The last and only time I had been in the woods at night was at Trista’s Halloween party. We were only a few feet in when I grabbed Fletcher’s hand. It was a wuss move, but I didn’t care. The woods were a lot darker than I’d expected. I pulled out my phone for more light.

  Fletcher put his hand over it. “No. The light might keep it away.” He was right. Reluctantly, I slid the phone back into my coat pocket, relying on Fletcher and the limited light the moon supplied for guidance.

  We moved deeper into the towering pines, stopping at the markers where Mr. Thompson had been found. Sticks and cones indicated where his various body parts had ended up, near the spot where we had found Mrs. Chin. “The attacks seem to happen in this area,” Fletcher said. “This is where we need to be.”

  Dry leaves crunched with the sounds of approaching footsteps. “Someone’s coming,” I whispered.

  Fletcher peered through the trees. “It’s Jackson Stuart. He’s a Shifter.”

  I remembered reading about Shifters. They could change form like Fletcher, but while Walkers were confined to certain animal forms, Shifters could turn into anything they wanted.

  Jackson appeared, bundled in a coat with fur around the hood. “Hey.”

  “Hey,” I replied, but I could barely make him out in the darkness. I didn’t know much about Jackson. He was fairly new to Everson Woods, but from what I could tell, he seemed all right. “So what now?”

  Fletcher took off his coat and dropped it at the base of a tree. “Make yourselves comfortable while I go change. Then we wait.” He said it as if he was simply changing clothes rather than changing from Human to animal form.

  Jackson and I leaned against the tree as Fletcher disappeared with his backpack. Neither of us spoke. I was too worried and anxious to make small talk. After a few seconds, I picked up Fletcher’s coat and wrapped it around myself. A brutal gust of wind rattled the leaves above my head, and I wished Fletcher would hurry. I didn’t like him being where I couldn’t see him.

  I wouldn’t be able to talk to Fletcher in his animal form. I didn’t even understand how transformation worked. Would he still know me as Arden, or would he smell my Taker blood, see me as a piece of meat to gobble down? I reminded myself that he was a Giver, and he wouldn’t hurt me unless I was a danger to his life.

  Grunting and moaning came from behind the tree. Was he okay? Was this what I had to look forward to? Jackson stared straight ahead as if nothing unusual was happening. Whatever was going on sounded painful. After almost five more minutes, soft footfalls padded along the ground.

  My breath caught in my throat as a wolf emerged from behind the tree, carrying the backpack with his snout. I could barely make out the gray of its fur and the black stripes in the faint moonlight seeping through the trees.

  The wolf dropped the backpack in front of me and sat. “Hey, Fletch.” If I wasn’t seeing it with my own eyes, I wouldn’t have believed it.

  I slid Fletcher’s pack onto my shoulders and rested against the tree, and Fletcher the Wolf sat beside me. I couldn’t resist stroking his head. We sat for almost an hour, silent and waiting. Jackson had even fallen asleep.

  I turned to Fletcher. “I don’t think it’s going to come tonight. Let’s go home.”

  Fletcher stared at me and barked, but a deep, angry growl stopped him. The growl was the warning of a predator that had set its sights on something it wanted, and it wasn’t going to stop until it got it.

  The noise grew louder as the beast drew closer. Although I couldn’t see the beast yet, its growl told me that it was coming toward us. I nudged Jackson awake and rose to my feet to prepare myself. Jackson stood beside me, breathing heavily, and immediately started to peel off his clothes. I turned away from him. Fletcher’s body stiffened, and he looked in the direction from which the noise was coming. Whatever it was sounded much larger than Fletcher.

  A tall, dark form emerged from a cluster of trees. A Wendigo, identical to the one I’d seen in the book. Everyone was wrong. All the Wendigos weren’t locked away in the sixth tunnel.

  The Wendigo set its yellow eyes on me, then it stopped and sniffed the air. I hoped I smelled right. I hoped I smelled like something it didn’t want to eat. This Wendigo was at least seven feet tall and so thin it was almost skeletal. It smelled like dead things, rotten and decayed—like Mrs. Chin smelled that day.

  Fletcher growled at the monster. The Wendigo snarled back, making Fletcher’s growl sound like a Chihuahua’s yapping. Anyone could see that Fletcher versus the Wendigo wouldn’t be a fair fight. This had been a mistake. A deadly mistake. This thing was going to kill all three of us.

  The Wendigo stood there with its shoulders hunched, like it was waiting for us to make the first move. Against my better judgment, I retrieved my phone from my coat pocket. I had to know exactly what we were dealing with, what had been causing all this trouble. I shone my light on the creature. It let out a low growl but didn’t move.

  The Wendigo had gnarled antlers protruding from its head. It had the face of an evil possessed deer, and brown, blood-mangled fur covered its head and shoulders. The Wendigo’s ribcage was completely exposed, revealing yellowed bones that looked centuries old. Its skinny legs bent forward awkwardly, ending in hooves, and it had hands so large they seemed to be the reason the Wendigo was hunched forward.

  The Wendigo let out a startling howl that cut through the frigid air. I spun on my heels, almost slipping on the leaves beneath my boots, and attempted to take off, but instead I bumped into something—another Wendigo. I panicked until I realized the second Wendigo was Jackson. He looked identical to the real Wendigo.

  The real Wendigo lunged forward, grabbing Fletcher by his hind legs and flinging him like a stuffed animal. Fletcher slammed against a tree and hit the ground yelping.

  “No!” Forgetting my own safety, I rushed over to Fletcher, scooping the wolf up. I struggled to hold him as he wrig
gled in my arms. Jackson pulled me up by the hood of my coat and shoved me away. The real Wendigo circled him. Jackson was telling me to get out of there with Fletcher, but it didn’t seem right to leave him.

  I looked down at Fletcher, who was too heavy for me. I was going to drop him at any second. He shivered, and I knew we had to get going. Moving toward the edge of the forest, I glanced over my shoulder. One Wendigo clawed at another. At that point I couldn’t tell which was which.

  I didn’t stop running until I reached the edge of the trees. I couldn’t go running out into the open carrying a wolf. I set Fletcher gently on the ground. Somewhere in the distance came the sounds of snarls and bays, and I silently prayed for Jackson to come out alive.

  Ripping Fletcher’s backpack from my shoulders, I laid it on the ground and pulled out his clothes. I had dropped his coat back where we were. I turned around to give Fletcher his privacy.

  Groaning and grunting, he changed back into Fletcher and put his clothes on. Blood seeped through his wool sweater. He grimaced as I helped him stand. Fletcher doubled over, grabbing his side. “Oh, God.”

  I lifted his sweater. Deep cuts covered his abdomen, and his right side had purpled with bruises. The sounds of something running toward us threw me into a panic. I didn’t know if it was Jackson or the Wendigo, but I couldn’t stand there and wait to find out.

  Flinging one of Fletcher’s arms around my neck, I helped him hobble away from the trees.

  “Run!” Jackson shouted. I looked over my shoulder to see a naked Jackson in Human form rushing toward us with the Wendigo on his heels. I tried to move faster, but I couldn’t with Fletcher using me as a crutch.

  “Fletch, I know you’re hurt, but we really need to move.”

  He winced and tried to move a bit faster. “Arden, run. I’ll catch up.” Even as he said the words, he should have known that I would never leave him.

  At the edge of the woods, Jackson threw himself forward, rolling on the grass, showing us everything. The Wendigo stood at the line of trees, heaving heavily, its yellow eyes glowing fiercely. It let out one last howl before turning and trudging back into the trees.