When the Red Wolf Hunts (The Red Wolf Trilogy Book 2) Page 13

  By the time I finish, he sighs, and says, “I’m sorry for your losses.”

  “Thank you,” Bernard says, and reaches up to brush a tear from his face.

  Justin stands and presses a hand on Bernard’s shoulder so casually that it seems as though they’ve never broken up. Jackson must see it, too, because in the moments that follow, there is a long silence.

  Not long afterward, Justin draws away from Bernard, and says, “I can help you lead the pack from Red Wolf.”

  “How are we going to do it, though?” I ask. “I mean… it’s not like we can just take the roads, or load them into a car or something.”

  “The woodlands are pretty dense here,” Justin replies. “I’ve run them enough to know that.”

  “Wait,” Bernard says. ”You’ve been running the woods?”

  “Occasionally,” the man replies. “Though, to be honest, it isn’t something I do that often. It’s too dangerous, what with people and their kids, farmers and their cattle.”

  Bernard opens his mouth to say something, but must think better. He closes his mouth not long after.

  With a nod, Justin turns to look at us, and says, “It won’t be easy. It’ll be a day’s travel from Red Wolf to here on foot, and another after that to Louisiana. But I promise you I can make it.”

  “You promise?” I ask, more doubtfully than anything.

  “Yeah. I… I think I can do it.” He lifts his eyes to look at Bernard. “I mean… if you think I can, anyway.”

  “It’s not if I think I can,” Bernard replies. “It’s if you’re capable of doing it.”

  Bernard glances into the kitchen.

  Jackson and I do the same.

  The beer bottles—which, until this moment, had gone unnoticed—seem to glimmer all the more.

  Sighing, Justin leans back in his seat, tilts his chair back to look up at the ceiling, and says, “Yeah. I can do it.”

  “When will you be ready?” Bernard asks.

  “As soon as we’re done eating.”

  Chapter Twenty

  Once more, we drive in silence. This time, however, Justin sits in the front seat with Bernard, while Jackson and I sit together in the back. It makes for a quiet ordeal—which, in some ways, is unbearable.

  But in others, I then think, it’s peaceful.

  Far more peaceful than I could’ve anticipated, all things considering. I though there’d be small talk about Bernard and Justin’s relationship, and their falling out as a result. But no. There’s none of that. Instead, there’s simply silence.

  Jackson stares at his phone.

  I, in response, withdraw mine.

  A text from J’vonte has come in; and though I’d rather not pull it up to notify her that it’s been received, I feel it’s my duty to let her know that everything is all right.

  Hey, the text reads. You doing okay?

  I’m doing fine, I reply, tapping the words in on my touchscreen in a slow and methodical matter. How are you?

  A few seconds pass. Then: I’m okay.

  That’s good.

  Sorry I haven’t texted more, she adds. I’ve been trying to give you your space.

  Thanks, I text back, and sigh as I consider everything that she and I have gone through—that she and I have endured.

  You’re not coming back to school, are you?

  No, I say. Not anymore.

  There is a pause. A frown-face emoji. Then: I miss you.

  You too, I reply. We’ll have to hang soon.

  Definitely.

  There is really nothing more for me to say at that point, and nothing more that could come in. Instead, there is simply silence from both of us—which, I suppose, is fine, all things considering.

  Besides, I then think. The less she knows, the better.

  I’m sure J’vonte and I will hang out again soon. That things will go back to normal. That things will be okay. It’ll just take time.

  Time, I muse.

  In the grand scheme of things, the two of us have all the time in the world.

  The wolves, though…

  I close my eyes, take a deep breath, and expel it.

  “Thinking about something?” Jackson asks.

  “Yeah,” I reply. “Just… the wolves. And how we’re going to get them to Louisiana.”

  “We’ll do it,” Justin says from the front seat. “It’ll just take a little time and some patience on all of our parts.”

  If we even have time, I think.

  For all we know, the local Fish and Game could have rallied more forces to either capture or kill the wolves. And if that happens—

  I shake my head.

  No. It won’t happen, because I won’t let it happen.

  That thought is the only thing that compels me to remain calm.

  We arrive at the Meadows family home in Red Wolf in the early hours of the evening. Tired more than anything, and ready to crawl into bed, I remove myself from the backseat of the rental car just in time to find that the RV—which, until this afternoon, has remained a staple in the Meadows’ family driveway—is still gone.

  “Hey,” I say, turning my head to face Jackson. “Have you heard from your dad?”

  “Not since we got to Port Arthur,” Jackson replies, and frowns. “You don’t think…”

  “No,” I offer, and shake my head. “I don’t think anything’s wrong. I just think it’s weird that he hasn’t updated us.”

  “Maybe there wasn’t anything to update us on,” Bernard offers, withdrawing his cell phone from his pocket and unlocking the screen. “You kids go inside. I need to see what’s going on.”

  “But—” Jackson starts.

  I take hold of his arm before he can argue further.

  At the door, Jackson pulls a key from his pocket and lets the two of us inside.

  I regret the action almost immediately.

  Plastered, upon the bright television screen, are the words: Fish and Game continue to hunt feral wolves.

  “Shit,” Jackson whispers.

  “Yeah,” I reply, and turn my head to the nearby window. “No kidding.”

  Though I cannot see outside—and though I imagine that there is nothing that Jackson’s father could possibly do in this current predicament—I can’t help but fear for his safety.

  Jackson’s phone buzzes.

  The young man reaches into his pocket.

  He lifts it to his eyes. Considers it for several moments.

  I ask, “What’s going on?”

  And he replies, “It’s Dad.”

  “And? What about him?”

  “He says he’s found the wolf pack,” he replies, and sighs. “But the area’s sectioned off, and he thinks that they… they—“

  “They what?” I ask.

  “That Fish and Game know where they are,” he replies.

  I swallow a lump in my throat and turn my head to look at the door.

  “When’s he coming back?” I ask.

  “I don’t know,” Jackson replies. “But I do know one thing for certain.”

  “You thinking what I’m thinking?” I ask.

  “Yeah,” Jackson says. “But first: we gotta convince Bernard and Justin.”

  “You want us to go on foot?” Bernard asks after Jackson and I have explained our plan.

  “Yeah,” Jackson says. “We do.”

  “It’s the only way we’ll be able to get there without causing suspicion,” I offer in kind.

  “If we can get there without causing suspicion,” Justin says. He lowers the cigarette he’s been smoking and exhales a long stream of smoke. He then adds: “That is what we have to worry about.”

  “We don’t have time to debate this,” I say, turning to face Jackson. “I’m ready to go.”

  “So am I,” Jackson says.

  “Well,” Justin says, lowering his cigarette and exhaling from it one last time. “I guess it’s settled then.”

  “What about the car?” Bernard asks. “It’s not like we can just leave it h
ere.”

  “Throw the keys in the house,” Justin replies. “Zach can take a cab back. Can’t he?”

  “I—” Bernard says, obviously in his struggle to maintain some level of normalcy in this whole thing. “I don’t—”

  Justin drops his cigarette. Stamps it out. Turns to the woods and rolls his neck about his shoulders. He then says, “Who’s leading?”

  And Justin replies, “Oaklynn is.”

  “You know where you’re going?”

  “For the most part,” I say. “Jackson showed me the coordinates.”

  “So let’s go.”

  Bernard turns his head left, then right, then up and down the road before groaning and saying, “Let me put the keys up. Then we can go.”

  As Bernard turns and begins to make his way toward the Meadows family house, my nerves are set ablaze once more.

  This is your fault, a part of me says.

  You bring pain and suffering wherever you go, Celestina adds.

  I had a vision, Alecia had said, that there would be a slaughter.

  There are no wolves in Texas, I’d once foretold.

  I shiver as the door to our home opens, then closes and is locked behind Bernard, and tremble as he comes to stand beside me. Whether or not he’s taken notice of my state of being I cannot be for certain, but when he says, “Let’s go,” I can’t help but step forward and make my way toward the woods.

  I feel the instinctual tug of inertia the moment I step into the woods. Find myself shifting. Find myself changing into the beast I know I have to be.

  Then, I’m the wolf once more, and turning my head to look at all of them.

  Shit, I say.

  What? Bernard asks. What’s going on?

  Justin— I start.

  He is colored almost the same as I am—albeit with hints of grey and silver throughout his fur. Gorgeous as he happens to be in this form, he will be just as big a target if he’s seen by Fish and Game.

  Oh, Bernard says after a moment. I see.

  We don’t have time to worry about whether or not Oaklynn and I look the same, Justin replies. We need to go if we hope to make it there in time.

  Right, I say, and nod my understanding. Let’s go.

  I take a few tentative steps forward—knowing, beyond all shadow of a doubt, that I have to be smart about the way we’re going to do this. Any false move, any slight error in judgment, will end up with one of us hurt. Or worse: killed.

  I’m not letting that happen, I think. I’m not letting another person die.

  That thought is what secures my emotions as we begin to make our way forward.

  It takes less than ten minutes for us to make our way up the creek. Shortly thereafter, we approach the fallen branch that marks the furthest I’ve happen to have gone in this area—and the place where Alecia Meadows received her fatal blow.

  Is something wrong? Bernard asks as he comes up behind me.

  No, I say, and begin to make my way forward once more. Nothing’s wrong.

  You stopped. That’s why I was asking.

  I don’t want to get into the personal details of the matter, because I know that they will only cause further pain, more suffering. For that reason, I push myself up the riverbank and turn my head to regard the world around me—hoping, desperately, for some kind of clarity on the matter.

  You know where you’re going, I think, so why are you so confused?

  I’m confused because, while I know the layout of the land by road, I do not know the world of the forest because of it.

  Use your senses, a voice within me says.

  Who— I start to say.

  Jackson, Justin, and Bernard come to a halt beside me.

  Did you say something? Jackson asks.

  I… thought I heard a voice, I say. It must’ve just been my imagination.

  But I know it wasn’t.

  No.

  I know, deep down, that it was my wolf guiding me.

  With that thought in mind, I inhale a deep breath of the fresh night air, then close my eyes.

  When I open them again, I swear I see a trail of golden beads hovering in the air before me.

  What, I think, is—

  But the more I think, the more I know; and the more I inhale, the more I understand that this is a scent trail, guiding me forward by sight.

  It’s this way, I say after a moment’s hesitation.

  Then, I begin to lead.

  The men follow me without question, slowly but surely allowing me to pursue the scent trail through the woods and further up the creek. It thickens the further we move along, and becomes more tangible. It is easy to see that the whole pack was moving through this area, and making their way due east.

  Thank God, I think. They’re all together.

  The only problem is: being together might spell their end, which is why we have to make sure that we can find them as soon as possible.

  How much further? Jackson asks.

  Not much, I reply. I think we’re almost there.

  Then it hits me—the scent of smog, the sound of big vehicles, the heat of a world ravaged by human reconstruction.

  I come to a halt at the edge of the creek—

  Only to find that the scent has gone cold.

  What— I start to say.

  But before I can finish, the wolf pack is upon us.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  I hold my ground as Alabaster and Celestina draw forward from the deeper parts of the thicket.

  You, Celestina is quick to say.

  I know, I reply, holding my ground as the female snarls and bares her teeth at me. But you have to listen to me. I’m here with good intentions.

  Your ‘good intentions’ got one of your people killed, Celestina says.

  No, Jackson says, cutting in before I can respond. It wasn’t her fault. It was the warden’s.

  But it was she was the one who took the Dark Wolf in, she who allowed it to kill the boys.

  Stop! I cry. Just… stop.

  Celestina narrows her eyes. You’re pathetic, she replies.

  I may be pathetic, I reply, trying my best to hold my ground and maintain my composure, but I’ve been working tirelessly to make sure that your people aren’t wiped out.

  The wolf doesn’t reply.

  Alabaster turns his head to look at Justin and asks, Who is this?

  He’s the wolf that’s going to lead us to Louisiana, I reply. Who’s going to keep you safe.

  And just how do you propose we get there?

  On foot, Justin says.

  The wolves turn their heads to look at him.

  Justin steps forward, his silver fur shining in the moonlight overhead like diamonds in the night, and lifts his head to face the two wolves. I live near the area she speaks of. I know every nook, every cranny.

  A human knows every nook and every cranny? Celestina asks. That’s doubtful.

  I’ve been in the area enough to know that there are few people living on the outskirts of town. I also know that there’s a pass at the edge of the lake we can use to lead you to Louisiana.

  I see, Alabaster says.

  You see? Celestina counters. You honestly can’t be considering this. Can you?

  We are no longer safe here, my love. The longer we stay, the more likely our people will face slaughter.

  And will we not face slaughter on the road?

  Alabaster shakes his head and turns his attention to the thicket outside. They know we’re here, he says, his voice low, his tone morose. If we stay here, they will surely shoot us down.

  Listen to me, I say once more. Just… let us take you to Louisiana. Let us make sure that you’re safe.

  Celestina lets out a breath of air—comparable to what I imagine her sigh would be in a human form—and then says, I suppose we have no choice.

  I nod, though sadly at that. Come on, I then say. We have to leave. Now.

  Let us gather the pack, Alabaster says. Then we will follow.

  Though my anxi
ety swells within me, a sense of pride surges forth along with it.

  I’ve never considered myself much of a diplomat. I’ve never even thought that I was very good at the art of persuasion. But here, and now, I have just convinced a sacred people to leave their homeland behind for something new.

  You did it, Oaklynn, the Light Wolf inside me says. Now you have to follow through.

  I know, I think, more to myself than anyone else. I understand.

  Within moments, the pack—including several pups that couldn’t be older than a few months—draw forward.

  And Alabaster says, Lead the way.

  We retrace our steps through the woods and along the riverbank, effortlessly making our way across the land and toward a place we do not know. Cold, on this unfortunate night, and unsure whether or not we will truly make it, I attempt to lead with haste I know comes from fear, but force myself to remain stoic regardless of that fact.

  You’re gonna make it, is what I keep telling myself. You’re gonna lead these wolves out of here and across Texas.

  Of course, our journey will not be without problem. The pups will have to stop to nurse, the wolves to rest.

  And us—the humans—will have to figure out what to do in the interim.

  It is at moments like this that I wish we’d had a transport vehicle for cattle, for horses, something that would’ve allowed us greater speed. But I know for a fact that it wouldn’t have helped.

  No.

  To trap the wolves—to prevent them from moving, from seeing, from fleeing—would have been impossible. One of them would’ve cried out. Would’ve howled. Would’ve screamed.

  And then it’d be over, I think.

  The further we advance into the woods, the more I am convinced that we should be safe. At the same time, however, I cannot let my guard down. Because if I do, I will lead us to our destruction.

  Which they believe I bring with me anyway.

  I sigh, then, and consider the world around me as we continue through the night. Guided by moonlight, and directed by Justin’s sense of direction, we push forth without a care in the world, thankful for the fact that humans can’t see that well in the dark, and that their guns are not as accurate as a result.

  How long will it take to get there? Alabaster asks.