Bad Wolf Chronicles, Books 1-3

by McGregor, Tim

  “You're still weak. Leave it for now. I can find you a change of clothes. Lara too.”

  She smiled at him. “Yeah, the bonnet thing isn’t for me.”

  His face clouded. “I can go with you. If you'd like.”

  “I'll be fine. But you can walk me out there.”

  “All right.”

  The Cherokee was there, untouched and waiting. A thin film of dust had settled over it. The ignition clicked over at the first try and Silas watched her turn the vehicle around on the narrow path and then waved as she drove away. Amy navigated the dirt track, keeping one eye on the rearview mirror. Silas stood in the sunlight watching until the road turned and he was lost from sight.

  Returning to the little cabin in the woods, the first thing she did was find the stash of bills in her backpack. Relieved to find that the cash was still there, she packed Lara's things up and then rifled her own bag for a change of clothes.

  The phone sat on the night table between the bunks. Amy perched on the edge of the bed and drummed her fingers on her knee. She picked up the receiver and called home. Cheryl would have an earful to say but Amy would keep it brief. She didn't want to get drawn into a long conversation with her mother, she just needed to let Cheryl know that she was okay.

  Cheryl tried her darndest to keep her daughter on the line but Amy held fast and kept it short, reassuring her mother that she was fine and would be home in a few days. She hung up the clunky receiver but kept her gaze on the phone for a long while after that. She should call Lara's sister in Albuquerque to let her know that Lara was fine. Marisol must be worried sick by now. Except that she didn't know if Lara was going to come out of the coma or not. Or, if she was honest with herself, if the woman’s ordeal was truly over. She put her hand on the phone and then took it back again. She would wait another day. Or until Lara awoke.

  Crossing into the bathroom, she turned the hot water faucet in the shower to full and peeled out of her grimy clothes. These she tossed into the small wastebasket, never wanting to see them again.

  Driving back down the rutted path of dirt road, Amy could have rode the truck right into the village but she didn't want to disrespect the people who had taken her in. Parking the truck before the village came into view, she lugged the backpacks in on foot the rest of the way.

  She had hoped that in her absence, Lara had awoken from her grim sleep but Silas shook his head and told her that there had been no change. He took the heavy bags from her shoulder and, seeing the crestfallen shade in her eyes, he reminded her that there was always tomorrow.

  After dinner, the family settled in the parlor. Amy whispered to Silas at how odd a scene it presented. Herr Hostetler sat in a chair beside the fire, scribbling accounts into his ledger while his wife read to Jacob from the family Bible. Everyone ensconced cozily around the pallet in the middle of the room and the unconscious woman lying in it.

  After a while, he asked if she would step out onto the veranda with him. The wicker bench on the porch creaked as they settled onto it. Amy sat quiet and waited, thinking that Silas had something to say to her but he didn't. They idled a few moments of chitchat before falling silent and listened to the chirping of the crickets. After a while, Herr Hostetler strode onto the porch after loudly clearing his throat to announce his approach. He said something in German to Silas and withdrew into the house. Silas said goodnight, showed her to the parlor and went up to his room.

  After tucking Lara in, Amy slipped under the quilt of her own cot and listened to the sound of her friend's breathing. She wasn't tired and her mind roamed and after a few moments, she began to wonder if Silas would sneak downstairs and tiptoe to her bedside. It was a foolish thought and she scolded herself for thinking such a thing. And yet, as the minutes dragged on, she wondered anew at her disappointment when he didn't appear.

  42

  THE SOUND OF BIRDSONG chirping in through the parlor window startled Amy awake. A city kid all her life, she was inured to the artificial racket of cars and radios and construction crews but the sounds of the wild were alien and intrusive. She kept her eyes closed and listened to the birds before remembering that this was the third day of Lara's coma. Propping up on one elbow, she looked over at Lara's bed but the cot was empty.

  She tilted onto her feet too fast and waited for the dizziness to pass. When had Lara woken up? Was she truly free of the curse or was the pale wolf loose and roaming the village right now?

  She clumsily pulled on her clothes and crept through the kitchen but there was no sign of Lara. Gathering her shoes in the foyer, she eased open the front door and padded out to the veranda.

  Lara sat on the wooden steps with her back to the door and a blanket pulled tight around her shoulders. The back of her hair was tangled and she didn't move a muscle when the screen door thunked home behind Amy.

  “Lara?”

  No response. Amy shivered at the morning chill, the floorboards cold against her bare feet. She had been here before, cautiously approaching Lara when the woman seemed gripped by some otherworldly pull. She tiptoed down the steps and settled next to Lara. Placing her shoes on the other side, she looked at Lara but the woman hadn't stirred or turned to look back. Her eyes were fixed on the treeline in the distance. The urge to ask Lara if she was all right or if she was in pain was overwhelming but Amy bit it back down and decided to wait for Lara to speak first. She folded her arms against the morning chill, wishing she had brought a blanket too.

  “Amy,” Lara said after a moment. Her voice not much louder than a whisper.

  “I'm here.”

  Amy waited for the woman to continue but Lara remained silent, gazing off into the field. She watched a crow perch on a fence post. “So. Is it over?”

  Lara didn’t reply but when Amy turned to her, she could see the tears in Lara’s eyes and she knew it was over. Wolves do not cry and Lara had been unable to shed a tear for almost a year now. It was over, the curse broken and more tears came. Lara lowered her head as if shamed as her body shuddered with sobs. Amy draped her arm around the woman and just held on until the sobs drained away.

  “It’s gone for good?” Amy asked.

  “Yes. It’s like I’ve been holding my breath all this time. And now I can breathe.”

  “That coma scared the hell out of me. I'm glad you came back.”

  Lara wiped her eyes. “So. What did I miss?”

  Amy told her of the Bishop's death and the change in the village since then. How the elders allowed them to stay and how Silas's family took them in. Tasha and Griffin leaving and how Amy didn't know what either of them would do about the things they had witnessed here.

  “I guess we'll deal with that when it comes,” Lara said. “They went home?”

  “Yesterday.” Amy shivered again.

  Lara unfurled one end of the blanket and draped it over Amy's shoulder, huddling with her underneath it. The girl had lost weight, like a bird under her arm. “You must be eager to get home.”

  “I guess. I don't know. This place is odd.” Amy chewed her lip, reconsidering. “Not odd. Just different.”

  Lara grew quiet and Amy felt something shift in her. “What about you? Is it safe for you to go back to New Mexico?”

  “No. Not now anyway.”

  “Then come back to Portland. We can figure something out. Hide you somewhere.”

  “It's too risky. But thanks.”

  Amy sighed. “Then where will you go?”

  “I don't know yet.”

  “You can stay with us if you like.” Silas chimed in as he stepped onto the veranda. “We can make room.”

  “Thank you, Silas.” Lara cracked a smile. “That's sweet of you. I don't think I'd really blend in too well here.”

  Silas leaned against the post, taking in the new day. “Think about it.”

  ~

  Lara washed up and then they sat down to a big breakfast with the Hostetler family. When the plates were cleared, they packed up their gear and thanked the family for their kindn
ess and walked out towards the square. Silas walked with them and offered to take Amy's backpack but she said that she was fine. He insisted on taking Lara's from her, needing to help in some way. They cut across the field of timothy to the road and followed it back to where the truck was parked.

  They loaded their gear into the back and Amy looked up at Silas. He kicked at something in the dirt, avoiding her gaze. Lara had sensed something was up on the hike so she stepped around to the driver's side to give Amy some privacy.

  “You okay, Silas?” Amy asked when Lara was out of sight.

  “Yes. I'm fine. Why wouldn't I be?”

  “You seem quiet, that's all.”

  He shrugged. He started to say something but then stopped and looked at the ground again. “Be safe,” he said.

  “I will,” she replied. She groped for something to say to him but her mind suddenly went blank. She couldn't think of anything at all. Except goodbye.

  “Amy,” he said. “I'm happy I got to meet you. I have never met anyone like you before.”

  “I’m glad I met you too.” She smiled at him, then said “Silas, do you get mail here? Like if I wrote you a letter, would you get it?”

  “Yes. Our mail goes to the next town down the road. We pick it up at the post office there.” The smile on his face widened. “Would you write to me?”

  “Is that okay?”

  “I would like that.”

  “Okay.” Amy took a breath. “I hate goodbyes so let's make it brief. Goodbye Silas.”

  She stepped closer to him, went up on her toes and kissed his mouth. She caught a flash of his cheek flushing pink before turning away quickly. She opened the passenger door and hopped inside the cab.

  The driver's seat was empty. Lara remained outside, looking back in the direction of the village.

  “Lara, what are you waiting for?” Amy fumed a little. If they lingered anymore, she was afraid she might cry and she didn't want Silas to see that. “Let's go.”

  Lara leaned into the cab, her arms resting on the window sill. “Amy, do you think you can make the drive alone?”

  “What are you talking about?” Amy sputtered but she already knew the answer. Lara wasn't going home with her. There was no home for her to go to.

  Lara leaned back and addressed Silas. “Is your offer still open?”

  He said that it was and Lara leaned back into the cab, drumming her fingers on the window sill. “So.”

  Amy slid down in the passenger bucket. “You're not coming.”

  “There's nowhere to go. If it's okay with these people, I'll stay on here for a while. Until I figure out what to do.”

  Amy didn't say anything for a moment. “Well, I guess I'll be writing to both of you here. Do you still have your phone?”

  “Nope.” The Bishop had destroyed every device they had.

  “Get a new one. Find a way to keep it charged. In case of emergencies.”

  Lara went around to the back and lifted her gear out of the truck. She returned to the driver's side window but Amy hadn't moved an inch. “Are you going to climb out so I can say goodbye?”

  “No,” Amy said.

  “Don't be angry with me, Amy.”

  “I don't like this. And I don't like having to say goodbye twice in one day.”

  Lara looked up at the sky, a brilliant blue unmarked by a single cloud, and then looked back to the girl in the truck. “The summer's still ahead of us. Come back for a visit.”

  Amy chuffed and then slid over and pushed out the driver's door. She wrapped her arms around Lara, felt a kiss on her cheek and then stepped back into the cab without another word.

  Silas hoisted the backpack to his shoulder and stood next to Lara as they watched the Cherokee swing about and trundle away down the uneven road.

  Her cheeks were hot and when the first tear spilled over, Amy scolded herself for being such a baby. She wasn't even sure what she was crying about. Was it Lara? Everything they had gone through?

  No. It wasn't that at all.

  Did she really like Silas that much? They were completely different people. Their worlds couldn't be anymore different. It would never work. And it wasn't fair that Lara got to stay behind and she had to leave. She wanted more time. Even just a little.

  Or maybe it was in her head, she wondered. Maybe once she was home and back to her regular life she would forget about Silas and wonder how she could ever think anything more of him than maybe her strange orthodox friend. Probably, she concluded and drove for home.

  She was wrong. Although she was happy to get home and see her mom (and even Norman), she found her thoughts drifting back to the boy even more than before. The second day back home, she put pen to paper and wrote him a letter. By the end of the week, she was making plans to return to that strange little village in the forests north of the border. She'd leave the day after her last exam. Cheryl would have a fit but she'd just have to deal with it.

  ~

  Lara settled in as best she could. The Hostetler family were welcoming and kind to her. Silas had offered to bunk with his brother so that she could have his room but Lara wouldn't hear of it. She asked about the old shed behind the house. It was just a tool shed, Silas explained, and a small one at that. He didn't understand why anyone would want to bunk out there but Lara persisted and Herr Hostetler agreed. After dinner that night, she and Silas cleared some space inside the shed and set up her cot and Lara thanked him for his help.

  “There,” she said looking over the small space where tools hung from pegs all around the narrow cot. “It's perfect.”

  “Are you sure?” Silas looked skeptical. With the cot inside, there was barely enough room for the two of them to stand in. “There isn't even a stove out here.”

  “This is all I need,” Lara beamed. “I've gotten by on much less.”

  Silas wondered what she meant but didn't press her for details. He didn't doubt her word either. Lara's eyes held a weariness in them that spoke of hardships he could only guess at. He gave a slight bow to her before turning to leave her in peace.

  “Silas?” she said before he disappeared. “Thank you for letting me stay. You and your family have been very kind to me. I appreciate it.”

  He bowed to her. “I'm glad you're safe. Goodnight Miss Lara.”

  She smiled at his formality as he left the little shed, softly closing the door behind him.

  Later she lay in the darkness unable to sleep but she had no watch and couldn't fathom the hour. Too many thoughts circled round and round in her head and one in particular kept nagging at her so she swung out of the cot and got dressed.

  Every house in the village was dark but the sky held a crescent moon hung in a web of a thousand stars. More than enough light to find her way through the town and up the gentle rise of the hill towards the cemetery. Wading through the weeds, she wondered if some nascent night vision of the wolf lingered within her given how easily she navigated her way in the darkness.

  It was still hard to believe that it was finally over. Her mind was tripped up by the impossibility of it but her gut knew the truth. There was a stillness inside her that she hadn't felt since that awful night when she had been attacked by the wolf. Back in her old life in Portland, saddled with a grumpy partner named John Gallagher. Amy's father, deceased these past five months or so.

  Threading her way through the gravestones, Lara found the stone bench in the center of the cemetery. She sat and tried to unravel the thought that had troubled her since she woke from her coma. When she was caught inside the wolf, she rarely ever retained any memory of the event. At best, there were feelings or sometimes flash images left over. Vague and indeterminate, these fragmented artifacts often made little sense to her after the event.

  This time, this last time, had been different. Scraps of memory stayed with her and these lost pieces troubled her. There was a clear memory of Amy pleading with her, the big gun in her hands. Another memory of attacking Amy, lunging at the girl. And the last patch of memory was t
he most tangible of all. It was more physical than anything. The feeling of hitting a brick wall, of being stopped cold by some terrible force. She could still feel the sensation of it, the jarring impact. And the cold, a chill that frosted her backbone with an unearthly bite.

  Something had stopped the wolf in that moment and she had an idea, crazy as it seemed, as to what it had been. So she sat on the bench and became very still and listened to the sounds in the night. She didn't know what she was listening for or if there would even be a sound. A sense perhaps. Minutes passed and Lara remained as still as the headstones around her.

  It was a feeling that triggered her alarm bells. Rising out of nowhere, a cascade of sorrow dropped over her like a veil, swallowing her completely. Flashes of other emotions churned up within the sorrow; regret and pity and mourning and loss so strong it carved out a hollow space inside her ribcage. Only after that came the chill and the prickling flesh along her arms. She hadn't expected that, for the emotions to trip first.

  Lara straightened up slowly on the bench, careful not to make any quick movements, as if trying to lure a wild animal in to eat from her hand. She took a deep breath, ready to speak out but balked at the moment of truth. Speaking out loud to something that probably wasn't there. She felt self-conscious and silly. Another try.

  “John?”

  Silence. The intensity of the veil of sorrow receded quickly, as if someone had lowered the volume.

  “John,” she repeated. “I don't know if you can hear me or understand what I'm saying. But I needed to talk to you.”

  The racket of the crickets dimmed for a moment at the sound of her voice, before resuming their eternal chirping.

  “That was you, wasn't it? You stepped between us. You stopped Amy and I from killing one another. Nice trick.”

  Nothing happened, no sound or sign from the other side. The night air was still.