The Amazing Wolf Boy

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The Amazing Wolf Boy Page 30

by Roxanne Smolen


  My mouth dropped. Besides the boxes of supplies, there was now a fire pit with stones around the rim and a large rock in the center, presumably to hold the cauldron. Neat piles of kindling surrounded the pit.

  “You did all this for me?”

  “For us,” she said. “After all, we’re partners.”

  I felt overwhelmed. It was really happening. In two days, I would be rid of the curse of the werewolf. Because of Brittany. Because of her belief, her perseverance, her caring.

  “I love you,” I said.

  She glanced up. “I know. Can you build a fire?”

  “I’ve seen it done.” I knelt at the edge of the pit and layered it with wood. “Did you bring newspaper?”

  In the dark, I saw her nose crinkle. “You’d be amazed at the amount of chemicals in a single page of newsprint. We can’t risk polluting the fire. It’s an old potion. It has to be done the old way.”

  “What, by rubbing two sticks together?”

  She laughed. “No. I brought a bag of dry leaves from my yard. And I got wooden matches. I heard regular matches and lighters leave a residue.”

  While I tucked leaves around the kindling, she struck a match. The fire caught and flickered. She set the cauldron in place.

  “I can barely see what I’m doing,” she said.

  “I can see. Tell me what you need, and I’ll pass it to you.”

  We started with a gallon of pure vinegar. It looked and smelled like molasses, nothing like the vinegar sold in grocery stores. To that, she added a pound of freeze-dried rattlesnake meat, a handful of cinnamon sticks, and a package of gum Arabic, which looked like rabbit pellets. Then came the live plants. She put in whole poppy blooms. She pulled the silvery leaves off the wormwood herb and crushed each one as she dropped them in. Then she skinned the fleshy limbs of an aloe plant and squeezed the gooey parts into the mix. Lastly, she opened a block of powdery tree fungus and crumbled it in.

  She stirred the mixture with a large wooden spoon then tapped the handle on the edge of the cauldron as if cooking a pot of soup. “That should do it.”

  I peered inside at the muddy-looking lumps. “It looks pretty thick. Are you going to add water?”

  “We don’t dare. It’s not in the recipe. I bought the water for fire control. It hasn’t rained in so long.”

  “Yeah.” I smelled the drought in the surrounding forest. The green scent was gone, replaced by a stench like the inside of an old straw hat. “What happens next?”

  “We have to make sure the fire doesn’t go out. I’ll stop by mornings and evenings.”

  “I can take the night shift. I’ll drive out on my bike after Uncle Bob goes to sleep.”

  She shook her head. “Too risky. If you get caught, he’ll never cut you loose on Sunday.”

  “About that,” I said, “I’ll need a good excuse to get him to let me out again. How about we say you forgot to do a book report and need to copy mine?”

  “I don’t think he’d approve of cheating. Maybe we can tell him I’m studying the human form in Graphics and need a male model.”

  I laughed. “Yeah. That’ll work.”

  “Or, I can make you dinner to thank you for the nice time I had at Olive Garden.”

  Warmth spread through my body. “Glad you enjoyed it.”

  “Then, it’s settled. I’ll call you around three on Sunday to invite you to dinner. After we eat, we’ll head out here.” She fed a few more sticks into the fire. The potion made a blurp sound.

  “That stuff will be hot enough to take my skin off,” I said.

  “Okay, how’s this? I’ll come here before I call you and take it off the fire. The cauldron can cool while we eat dinner.”

  “Deal.”

  She glanced around. “Help me pick up. I don’t want to leave any trash.”

  We spent the next few moments gathering empty boxes and wrappers. I could see perfectly in the firelight, so I did most of the work. By the time we left, the potion was bubbling, and my stomach was dancing right along with it. I couldn’t believe it was finally happening.

  We decided I should hang out with my uncle all the next day to keep him from getting suspicious. I wasn’t happy about that. It was difficult enough being away from Brittany on a normal day, let alone one when so much was happening. I woke on Saturday morning knowing I would have to find something to do or go insane.

  Fortunately, Howard showed up with a bucket of fish. While he and I cleaned the little beauties, my uncle dug a trench in back and filled it with charcoal briquettes. We wrapped the fish in banana leaves from our yard and tossed them onto the glowing coals. Then Uncle Bob covered them up again. Wisps of smoke outlined the layer of dirt.

  While the fish cooked, we played gin rummy. I had trouble paying attention and lost every hand. They teased me about it, so I told them the aroma of baking fish put me off my game.

  At last, Uncle Bob dug up the cooked fish, flipping the blackened pouches onto the grass. We carried them to the kitchen. Howard cut the banana leaves with scissors to reveal perfectly cooked fish, steamed in their own juices.

  I went to bed with a full stomach and a mind that wouldn’t rest. Although it was difficult to keep my word, I did not climb out my window to check on the potion. I tossed and turned with nightmares. In one dream the cauldron melted, spilling the potion and putting out the fire. In another, a bunch of squirrels got together and carried the cauldron away. Even worse, I dreamt the pack leader put something into the potion and when I used it, I turned into a chicken.

  By Sunday morning, I was a basket case. I wanted to pace the house, but Uncle Bob kept watching me over the top of his newspaper like he knew something was up.

  I had to keep busy, so I offered to wash and wax his truck. He seemed grateful, so I went to work. I unpacked the truck bed then put everything back again after I scrubbed it out. It took hours, which was a good thing.

  At three o’clock, I was showered and staring at my cell phone. Brittany would call at any moment. I wondered how she planned to put the potion on my skin. Maybe a big paintbrush? Would she expect me to take off my pants, too? I grinned. I’d better wear undershorts just in case.

  Three-fifteen. Still no call. She couldn’t have forgotten. Maybe we got our signals crossed. Maybe I was supposed to call her. I flipped open the phone.

  Uncle Bob appeared in my doorway. “Anything wrong?”

  “Just checking the time.” I put the phone away.

  “Thought I’d take you to Sonic tonight. My treat.”

  My stomach plunged. How would I get out of this one? “You don’t have to do that.”

  “Well, you did a nice job on the truck. This is my way of saying thanks.”

  I nodded, wishing he would go away. “Sounds good.”

  “All right.” He tapped a quick drum roll on the doorjamb and walked back to the living room.

  I blew out my breath and leaned against my pillow. Why was everything always so complicated? He probably thought I washed his truck in an attempt at reconciliation, and while I’d like to be un-grounded, I didn’t think we were going to be buds anytime soon.

  What would he do if he knew what I was attempting? Would he take it as a slap in the face, or would he want to use the potion himself? He always said life as a werewolf was hard, but when he shifted, he was the happiest wolf I ever saw. Not that I knew many.

  I waited until three-thirty before I punched in Brittany’s number. I felt in my gut that something was wrong—maybe her mother was ill or something happened to Butt Crack.

  The phone rang twice, then a man’s voice said, “Hello, pup. I wondered when you’d call.”

  TWENTY-NINE

  I blinked, the phone held loosely at my ear. That was the pack leader’s voice. How did he get Brittany’s cell? I was about to ask when it registered. He had Brittany. Oh God.

  “What did you do to her?” I asked, my voice stronger than I felt.

  “Your little pink-haired beauty? She’s fine. For now.”
/>   My hands shook so hard, I had trouble holding the phone. “Where is she?”

  “And I should tell you, why? So you can run to your sheriff pals? I don’t think so. They’ll find her soon enough.”

  I struck my forehead with the heel of my hand. Brittany. Oh God. All my fault. “Let her go, and I’ll join the pack. I’ll do anything you say.”

  “We’re kind of beyond that, don’t you think? Besides, I need her to help me make a point. I want you to understand what happens when you set the cops on my trail.”

  “But I didn’t. I haven’t—”

  “Then why did they confiscate my wheels?”

  I fell silent. Tears filled my eyes. Uncle Bob was right—I never understood what I was up against.

  “You don’t appreciate me or my power,” the pack leader growled. “A demonstration is in order. So tonight, I’m going to shift into my wolf form. Impossible, you say? Not during a new moon? Nothing’s impossible for me, pup. I will shift, and I will tear your girlfriend to pieces. The only way you’ll be able to identify her is by—”

  I threw the phone across the room. It smashed against the wall. Lifting my head, I let out a throat-rending scream. I ran into the living room as Uncle Bob leaped to his feet.

  “They’ve got her!” I yelled. “He’s going to shift tonight!”

  “What? Who?” His face fell. “Brittany?”

  “Oh God. What am I going to do?”

  “Where?” He pulled out his cell. “Cody, where are they?”

  “I don’t know!” I jammed my fingers into my hair, feeling like my head would explode.

  “Why would they take her?” Uncle Bob shouted. “What have you done?”

  “They’ve been following her,” I shouted back. “A black Mustang. She said she was followed on Friday, said she kept driving to throw them off. I knew, and I did nothing to keep her safe.”

  My hands clenched. Hair sprouted on the back of my knuckles. My body seemed to ignite.

  “We can’t track her,” he said. “Not as humans. Even if we knew where to start, we’d never get to her in time.”

  I felt like I was on fire. With clawed fingers, I grabbed my neckline and ripped my shirt in half. Bare-chested and heaving, I howled. Drool ran down my chest as my muzzle elongated.

  Uncle Bob backed away, eyes wide. “No. Oh God, Cody. No.”

  My fur rippled as I shed my clothes.

  “No one can shift during the day! No one!”

  I growled in answer, then ran into the kitchen and barreled out the window.

  “What are you?” he shouted after me.

  I ran flat out through the trees, head down, ears back. My senses were on overdrive, especially the one I depended on the most—my sense of smell. Uncle Bob said we couldn’t track them as humans. But I was more than human, more than wolf. I wouldn’t rest until I had the cur’s throat in my jaws.

  The swampland was dry and reeked of death. I flew over it in great strides, barely touching the ground. I felt certain I knew where they were. Brittany said she would take the potion off the fire to cool. They must’ve jumped her there.

  I reached the dirt road and paused outside the hidden courtyard. My nose twitched. Brittany’s scent was hours old. She hadn’t been there since morning. Now it was almost nightfall.

  Alarm raced through me. I was running out of time. Focus. Where could she be? I lifted my nose and caught the lingering stench of car exhaust. The vehicles hadn’t stopped. If she were being followed, Brittany would have driven past as she had before. She’d go to the quarry.

  With a determined bark, I ran down the road. The trees thinned, giving way to boulders and sand. I came to a field of gravel penned by a broken-down metal guardrail. A blue Lexus sat at the lip of a drop-off. At the bottom of the gorge, I saw Brittany’s lime green Volkswagen.

  I yelped and skidded down the steep slope, finally reaching her car. It listed against a large rock. I was tall enough to look directly inside. Brittany wasn’t there, but a window was broken and I smelled her blood.

  I also smelled three other humans. The pack. Rage infused me. Nose down, I followed their scent. It led across the flat floor of the basin to a rocky trail along the far side. The trail would’ve been treacherous for a human, although I had no problem on my four feet. As I climbed, I noticed the sky turning pink. It would be dark soon.

  I got to the top and looked down upon a moonscape of craters and boulders. The only green was a fringe of trees along the edge. Brittany and her three abductors stood a short distance away. The leader had her by the arm. Brittany’s forehead was bloody. Her clothes were torn.

  My lip curled. I followed the ridge until I was right above them, hoping for a surprise attack. But I dislodged a stone.

  Brittany looked up. “Cody!”

  “Look out!” cried the blonde woman.

  The leader’s face fell to disbelief as I leaped. I hit his chest, knocking him away from my mate. He sprawled upon the ground. I was on him again, snapping at his throat. I caught his face in my jaws and squeezed.

  He threw me off with surprising strength and was on his feet in a flash. Blood streaked his shirt. He pulled it over his head and wrapped it around his arm as if it would protect him.

  I was more interested in Brittany’s safety. The other man held her like a shield, her arms wrenched behind her back.

  “I knew this was a bad idea,” the woman wailed. “I told you. We had no idea who we were dealing with.”

  “Shut up, Nadine,” the man said.

  “Look at him! It ain’t even dark yet.”

  I growled, advancing on the man.

  Nadine scrambled up the ridge. “Let go of her, Hank. He’s going to kill us all.”

  “Hold!” bellowed the leader. “Or I’ll kill you myself.”

  “Hank! Come on!” Nadine yelled, and then disappeared over the ridge.

  Hank grimaced, backing away, drawing Brittany with him. Brittany’s gaze met mine. She nodded once. Then she collapsed. The sudden movement ripped her arms from Hank’s grasp. I sailed over her, slamming into him. His head snapped back. I rode him down, my weight on his chest, and heard a crack as his head hit the rocks. He didn’t move.

  “Cody!” Brittany screamed.

  The leader stood over her, blood pouring from his mauled face. He looked at me and smiled. Then his jaw narrowed, and his ears slid up the sides of his head.

  He was shifting.

  With a high-pitched growl, I sprang at him, hoping to catch him while he was still human. He threw out his padded arm. I latched on, shaking it. Suddenly, all I had was the shirt.

  A large black wolf rammed into my side and bowled me over. He dove onto me, fangs flashing. I got my hind legs beneath him and flung him back. He was on me again before I could get up. I squirmed, biting wherever I could, tasting fur and blood.

  His fangs sank into my shoulder. I yelped and struggled. Brittany looked horror-stricken. Then she ran away.

  What? I fought with renewed strength and threw him off. Brittany ran across the rock yard. Not for the road, as I would expect, but for the trees. What was she doing?

  I turned to follow, but the wolf jumped me from behind. He snapped at my wounded shoulder. I caught his ear in my teeth and shredded it. He howled and backed off.

  I charged. We fought on our hind legs like two grizzlies, holding each other for support as we jockeyed for an opening we could sink our teeth into. He had experience, but I outweighed him. I bore him backward until he lost his balance and scrambled away.

  Brittany was out of sight. I tore after her, kicking up gravel. The pack leader ran behind. I wanted to spin about and finish the fight—but Brittany’s safety was more important. I had to find her first.

  I burst through the tree line. Her scent was strong. I smelled fear and adrenalin. Where had she gone? I lowered my head, zigzagging through the underbrush, trying to keep the leader off my tail. He caught me, his heavy paws swiping my haunches. I yelped and veered, taking a new route, expe
cting him to follow. Instead, he continued on Brittany’s trail.

  Now I was the one bringing up the rear. I flattened my ears, running for all I was worth. I came at him at an angle and sank my teeth into his hip. He cried out, snapping at me, but I held fast, lifting his hindquarters into the air, his back legs working as he tried to get away. I shook him. His flesh tore. He took off running, although slower. I spat out a hunk of his hide and followed.

  Familiar odors seeped into my awareness. I knew this area. Then it hit me—Brittany wasn’t running in blind panic. She was leading him to the potion that turned a werewolf into a man.

  I burst into the hidden courtyard a second behind him. Brittany looked up. She was crouched beside the cauldron. Her face was dark with blood, her eyes white. I halted, but the leader kept running. He leaped at her just as she brought up the barrier. He slammed into it and bounced, shaking his head. Then he jumped at her again, standing on his hind legs, frothing at the mouth as he snarled and clawed to get inside.

  Wide-eyed and teeth bared, Brittany picked up the cauldron and threw the contents at him. The dark liquid passed through the barrier and struck the wolf in the chest.

  He howled, steam rising as he writhed on the ground. Within seconds, he reverted to his man shape.

  Silence fell over the clearing. I stepped forward. He wasn’t dead. His chest rose and fell in slow even breaths. He was covered in bite marks, from his mauled face to his shredded ear to a nice chunk I’d taken out of his butt. As I watched, the wounds faded and disappeared.

  Brittany dropped the cauldron with a clunk. She gaped at me. Then, with her gaze on the unconscious man, she released the barrier and tiptoed out. I met her halfway. When she passed the larger of the two circles, she dropped to her knees, swiped her still oozing forehead, and touched the blood to the magic circle. The second barrier sprang in place, trapping the man inside.

  Brittany wept. I nuzzled her. She wrapped her arms about my neck and sobbed into my fur. I wanted to say something comforting, wanted to hold her close. But all I could do was sit there.

  After a time, she pulled away. “I’m okay,” she said to my unspoken question. “I need my cell phone. I think he had it in his pocket.”

 

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