Wolf Running

by Toni Boughton

  It was a dead hare, either killed by the hawk’s talons or the impact of landing. Drops of blood beaded along its whiskers. Its wild dark eye stared emptily at her. Biting her lip against the pain in her ribs Nowen bent a little lower and stroked its soft-furred side. The body was still warm.

  The scent of blood filled her nostrils in a rush, tangy and metallic. Her stomach growled and saliva flooded her mouth. She touched the tip of one finger to a perfect crimson drop, balanced on the end of a white whisker, and brought the blood to her lips.

  The taste rampaged through her body, setting fire to her nerves and throwing her all her senses into overdrive. Too late she realized the danger, and even as she scrambled away from the hare she could feel the cage giving way inside.

  The wolf didn’t so much emerge as explode into existence. The loose sweatpants and over-large t-shirt disintegrated as the wolf tore herself free to stand on the rough prairie, black as midnight and wild as the wind. She shook herself roughly, all over, and then pounced on the dead hare. Four quick bites and the animal was reduced to bits of fur and bone. She raised her head, licking her lips as she looked around.

  The wind was up, blowing cold across the prairie. She could smell snow in the air, and pine and juniper. Faintly came the earthy smells of prey animals, rabbits and groundhogs, foxes and mice. The wide-open grassland was alive with hidden life, and it beckoned the wolf. She bowed and stretched, digging her claws into the rough ground. Then she was off.

  The wolf ran for the sheer joy of running, speeding across the prairie with abandon. Her thick black fur swept back in the wind of her passing as the browns and greens of the plains blurred in her sight. A flock of ptarmigan were startled into flight and the wolf leapt playfully after one, coming away with a mouthful of feathers.

  She picked up the scent of a hare and slowed, tracking it to a stand of leafless maples. She was searching through the undergrowth when her right front leg began to twitch violently. The black-furred paw shook from the tremors that raced through it, and as the wolf watched the paw started to change shape. She growled in anger as the strangeness began to move further up her leg, the thick pelt disappearing into the light brown skin. An all-pervading smell of human enveloped her, a smell of the other, the one who would keep her caged.

  The wolf jumped back, a primal urge to escape overwhelming her. She ran, wrapped in a wild turmoil. The misshapen leg changed her graceful movement into a stumbling lurch. The stench of the other was everywhere now, clouding her senses.

  The wolf fought as long as she could in a futile effort to keep her freedom. She snapped her jaws at the parts of her body that were changing. She sunfished, leaping and twisting against the afternoon sun. She charged across the prairie desperately, trying to outrace her changing body, but to no avail. With a last angry snarl the animal was gone and the human was there.

  Nowen panted hard as she stood in the fading day. You can’t have your way all the time, she sent to the wolf. Even as she shivered in the brisk breeze, acutely aware of her nudity, she felt a great sense of triumph. She had forced the wolf to bow to her demands. For the first time since she woke up in the hospital, so long ago now, she felt in charge. In charge of her choices and in charge of her destiny.

  She rubbed her arms fiercely and searched the landscape for some familiar landscape. Finally she sighted her house, south of her position and several miles away. Damn you. She sighed and started walking.

  Nowen had crossed a half-mile of rough grassland when she realized that her broken ribs weren’t hurting. She stopped in sheer amazement and pressed her hand against her side. There was no pain.

  I guess you’re good for something, she said to the wolf. A rough growl that echoed through her head was her only response.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Now

  “I hate this life.”

  The words were no louder than a heartbeat yet they drew Nowen out of a light sleep in which she had been replaying the events of the previous day. In her half-dream Tuck slapped her once, and then the wolf tore him apart, limb from limb and agonizingly slow. Reluctantly she tore herself from this pleasant fantasy and, keeping her head still, she looked through slitted eyelids at her fellow captives. Zoe and Lennon were curled together under a thin blanket on the floor. On the bed at the rear of the camper Mr. Roberts and the twin girls were still sleeping, light snoring coming from the slack mouth of the middle-aged man.

  His wife was the one who had spoken. She stood at door of the camper, looking out the small window. The soft, early-morning light was gentle on her face, smoothing away wrinkles and worry lines. She rested her forehead against the glass and closed her eyes, speaking in a voice as soft as rainfall. “I hate it. It’s ugly, and it’s making us ugly. Is there a point to this?”

  Nowen startled when the older woman turned her head and looked at her. The look of utter hopelessness in Mrs. Roberts’ eyes was bottomless as she said “Is there?”

  Nowen had no response. The woman crossed to her suddenly. Nowen leaned back as Mrs. Roberts hovered over her. “Is there a point to this?” she said again, crossing her arms protectively over her chest, waiting for an answer.

  Nowen shrugged. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  “This!” Mrs. Roberts hissed, waving an arm around. “Everything. The world. You know what I’m talking about! Nothing will ever be the same!”

  Against her better wishes Nowen found herself trying to offer comfort. “It’ll get better, what is her first name? Mrs. Roberts. I’m sure you and your family will find a safe place to live-”

  Bitter words cut her off. “It won’t be the same! How many living people did we see yesterday? None! And how many of those, those, things are there now? Hundreds!”

  “But they aren’t everywhere, I’m sure. Up north, I saw hardly any Revs.”

  “That’s not the point! That’s not the point at all!” Mrs. Roberts leaned in closer, the smell of dried sweat and unwashed body rising off her in a cloud. Her voice rose as she continued. “We’re outnumbered, and it’s only a matter of time before we die! So why wait? Why keep moving on, day after day, never knowing when the end will come?” She paused, raising her eyes from Nowen’s to stare into a future only she could see. “Why do we even try to keep living?”

  Behind the agitated woman Nowen could see the two young people on the floor stirring. Lennon lifted his head first, watching. Nowen looked back up at Mrs. Roberts. This close, she could see the light grey hairs sprinkled through the auburn hair, the crow’s feet spreading from the corners of the olive-green eyes. Those eyes were staring at her expectantly, wanting something she didn’t have to give.

  “Why do you keep going?” the other woman asked.

  She could only shrug again.

  “You must have a reason!”

  “Mrs. Roberts, damn it, what is her name? I don’t know what you want-”

  “Just tell me!” Desperation edging on hysteria colored the older woman’s words. “I’ve been watching you. You never seem scared or lonely or upset. Why not? What do you know that makes you different?!”

  Nowen shook her head. “Mrs. Roberts, please-”

  “Tell me!” she was almost shouting now. “Tell me what hope there is for us, for my children!”

  There was nothing Nowen could say, and now she found herself wishing that Mrs. Roberts would just go away. Then Lennon was there, taking the other woman by the shoulders and turning her away. “Carla”, he whispered, “calm down. You don’t want to scare Lisa and Michelle.” His eyes met Nowen’s as he led Mrs. Roberts it’s Carla try and remember that back to the bed where her husband and children still slept, murmuring quietly to her all the way. He got her settled and then came back to where Nowen sat.

  Lennon sank to the floor next to her small seat, crossing his legs lotus-style.

  He studied her face closely. “You are a very fast healer. The bruising on your face is hardly noticeable. And your black eye is looks considerably better.”
>
  Nowen twisted in her seat to see him more clearly. “Do you agree with what Mrs. Roberts was saying?”

  The young man sighed heavily. “Yes. And no. Obviously, nothing will ever be the same. One of the last media reports I heard before they all went off the air said something like, 90-95 percent of the population had this Flux. How many people is that?”

  Nowen shook her head. “I have no idea.”

  “Same here. But it would have to be a lot. Billions. So....things do look hopeless. Between the dead-heads and our captors I’m never quite sure if I’m going to make it from one day to the next. But...I’m not ready to give up just yet.”

  “Why not?”

  Lennon’s grey eyes were frank and open. “I have no idea. All I know is that I’m not there yet.”

  “I was kinda hoping that the cold would have killed them off.” This came from Zoe. The young woman was watching them, lying on her stomach and resting her chin in her hands. “But as it warms up, and as we keep going south, the damn things are everywhere.”

  Nowen nodded. “In Laramie they just slowed down a lot. It made it easy to get away from them, but even temperatures below freezing didn’t seem to stop them entirely.”

  Lennon leaned forward, eager interest visible in his brown-skinned face. “So, Laramie? Is that where’re you’re from?”

  “Not...originally. I just spent the last few months there.”

  “Oh? Then where?”

  “It’s complicated.” Nowen sighed.

  Zoe pulled herself along the floor on the blanket to join Lennon. “Well, we’re not going anywhere. I wanna hear all about the mystery woman.” Her words were tinged with sarcasm and Lennon gave her a look but didn’t say anything. In the teenager’s hazel eyes Nowen could see mistrust and anger, along with genuine curiosity.

  She closed her own eyes for a moment, organizing her thoughts. “Honestly, I don’t know where I come from. Or even who I am.”

  Lennon smiled. “Now that’s an exciting beginning!”

  The two young people listened as Nowen told them of the days in the hospital, the massacre on the second floor, the scavenging for supplies amid the massed hordes of Revs. She told them of how she got separated from Jamie, but kept the more fantastic details to herself.

  “And you don’t know how you got to Wyoming, huh?” Zoe asked skeptically.

  Nowen shook her head slowly. “Um, everything after the race through the alleys is a blank. The next clear thing I remember is finding myself outside Laramie.”

  Lennon leaned forward. “And you spent the entire winter there?”

  “I was injured. Broke some ribs. It took a while to heal, and then I got snowed in.” Nowen shrugged.

  “And now you’re headed back to Exeter, to search for your friend.”

  She nodded silently.

  “Your friend is probably dead.” Zoe said bluntly.

  “Zoe!” Lennon turned to face the teenager, a world of anger in that one word.

  “What?! Come on, face the facts!” Hazel eyes seared into Nowen’s amber ones as Zoe continued. “You ran off and left your friend months ago, which says a lot about you, frankly. And now you think you’re going to go traipsing back into the city and find her all alive and well! You’re delusional.”

  Nowen held up her cuffed hands to stop Lennon from speaking. She leaned forward slightly, returning Zoe’s spiteful gaze. “You’re not telling me anything I don’t already know. So why are you doing this?”

  “I guess I’m just surprised to see that you care about someone. You haven’t seemed to care about any of us, with your crack about the children that first day. And let’s not forget yesterday, when you were just standing there next to Tuck and you didn’t even try to warn Lennon about that dead-head!”

  “Zoe, please. There’s no point to this.” Lennon said, calmly.

  The young woman looked at him, anger evident in her every movement. She ran her hands through the tangled mess of her hair as she replied. “Yes, there is a point to this! Lennon, she was going to let you die! I watched her -she stood there like a block of ice and did nothing! And please” and here she held up a hand to stop the young man from speaking, “don’t bring that argument back up that ‘she doesn’t know us’. Screw ‘knowing us’! How about common human decency?”

  “Will you all just shut up!” Hank Roberts shouted from the back of the camper. “My family is trying to sleep!”

  Zoe looked back over her shoulder. “Why don’t you just shut the hell up!” Lennon placed a placating hand on her arm, but she furiously shook it off.

  The wolf stirred, reacting to the rising aggression. Nowen could almost taste it herself, sour and biting, flavored by despair. Less than a week trapped together, all normalcy gone, kept under armed guard - these people were on the edge of snapping.

  “Listen, fat man, I’ve just about had it with you. Mouth off to me one more time-”

  “And what?!”

  “I’ll shut you up permanently!” Venom coated every word Zoe said.

  A startled hush fell over the group. Lennon stared at the teenager, his mouth gaping open. Mr. Roberts, wide-eyed, looked as scared as his daughters, who were clinging to their mother. Nowen noticed that Mrs. Roberts Carla was the only one who seemed unaffected. Her arms were draped loosely over the thin shoulders of her children but her gaze was turned to the wall, and stayed there.

  Lennon broke the silence first. “Ok, everyone, we can’t turn on each other. The only way to get through this is to work together.”

  Zoe wasn’t ready to calm down, as evidenced by her next words. “Get through what? We don’t know what they want with us, or even where we’re going.”

  “Have you asked?” Zoe turned her furious gaze on Nowen at this. “No, we haven’t. After seeing what happened to the others who talked back to Tuck, we decided not to take a chance on getting killed ourselves!”

  Nowen saw Lennon bite his bottom lip and turn away at this. “Then I’ll ask.” she said.

  Zoe was startled into silence for a moment. “Why?” she said, when she regained her voice.

  “I want to know.”

  “Tuck might kill you.” Lennon said.

  “Either I get information or I don’t. No way to know until I try.”

  The young man furrowed his brow, thinking, but whatever he was preparing to say next was interrupted by a banging on the door.

  “Breakfast and bathroom break! Step back from the door, now!” Oliver’s voice, still slightly nasal from his broken nose, echoed through the interior. Nowen watched as an almost palpable sense of despair swept the group. Even Zoe, just a moment past on the edge of physical violence, deflated, drawing into herself. And here’s the other side of the coin. These people are ready to give up completely. They won’t turn on their captors, but they will turn on each other.

  Oliver opened the door without waiting for an affirmation. Soft morning light poured into the camper as he motioned with the ever-present shotgun for the people inside to step out. As they passed him the big man exaggeratedly waved his hand in front of his face. “Whoa! You all stink! Maybe I need to turn the hose on you guys! What do you say, sweetie? What would you do for a shower?” He ran his free hand down Zoe’s arm as she passed. Zoe shot him a look but kept silent. He turned his head and looked up at Nowen, grinning smugly but not quite meeting her gaze. The bruising around his eyes was still there, faded to yellows and pale purples.

  Nowen leaned casually against the door frame, letting her disdain for Oliver show through in her very body language. “Didn’t your boss tell you not to mess with us anymore?”

  He slid his mirrored sunglasses on before he answered. “I had a talk with Tuck. I let him know that you’re an instigator, determined to stir up trouble. I said we ought to just kill you now, but Tuck’s nicer than me.”

  Nowen slowly raised one eyebrow. “You gave advice to Tuck?”

  A red flush spread across Oliver’s shaved head at this. Angrily he motioned with the shotgu
n. “Get down here. Now!”

  She straightened slowly and started down the few steps. On the last one before the ground Oliver suddenly slid the gun in front of one of her legs. She fell, throwing her cuffed hands out in front automatically.

  She landed in a snow bank, feeling the cold moisture sink through her jeans and sweater almost instantly. Behind her Oliver laughed. She drew herself up to her knees and looked back at the big man. As he continued to laugh Nowen noticed Tuck and Matt coming up behind him.

  “Oliver.” Tuck’s quiet words stopped the laughing immediately. “Would you care to tell me what happened here?”

  Nowen stood up, brushing the melting snow from her clothes, listening as Oliver stammered out something about her stumbling over her own feet.

  “Is this true?” Tuck turned his attention to her.

  Nowen rolled her eyes. “Of course not. Oliver tripped me.”

  The flush grew deeper on Oliver’s head as he lunged at her, growling unintelligibly. She waited until the last minute, then side-stepped his charge neatly so that he stumbled and nearly fell. As he righted himself and turned back toward her she braced for his next rush.

  “Enough!”

  Oliver stopped, his massive chest heaving in anger and frustration. Nowen kept her gaze on him, not willing to turn her back on the big man yet.

  “Oliver, go watch our guests so that they don’t wander off.” Nowen watched him stomp off before she turned to Tuck. The slight man stood waiting patiently for her full attention before he began to talk.

  “Follow me, please.” Tuck turned on his heel and walked away. Nowen watched him go for a moment. If I took off running now, how far would I get? She looked around and saw Matt watching her closely. He held his weapon in front of him. Not far. She shrugged and followed Tuck, taking this time to examine their surroundings.

  Their little convoy had spent the night at a self-storage place, kept safe behind a tall wire fence. The spare handful of Revs that were found here had been swiftly dispatched, and a quick search had turned up no other immediate dangers. As the weather warmed up the further south they went, the group saw more Revs, and the Revs saw them, attracted by the sounds of the engines. Now the snowplow blade on the front of the blue pick-up was splattered with dark blood and bits of flesh. Still, their progress was slow. Abandoned and wrecked vehicles had necessitated leaving the highway for detours down side streets and through neglected neighborhoods. Consequently, the mood among Tuck and his guards had darkened.