by TJ Klune
leave us behind/slow drumbeat
He didn’t come back that night.
I waited, watching through the window as the shadows lengthened and snow started to fall, but he never came. Twice I went outside to get more firewood, listening to the sounds of the forest around me, but there was nothing.
I gave a brief thought that maybe he’d followed through with his threat and left, but it didn’t feel right. That off feeling about the woods was still as strong as ever, like it’d been infected with something rotten.
I almost locked the door.
I didn’t in case he came back.
And since I wasn’t stupid, no matter what he said, I didn’t go into the woods, even if the itch to do so was maddening.
I went back through the cabin. I remembered something Robbie had told us about how he’d had a hidden cubbyhole in his house in Caswell where he’d kept his secrets. I told myself that Gavin could have done the same, and though I didn’t know what he’d keep hidden, I hoped it would give me something, anything—an insight to who he was as a man.
But the walls were sturdy and hadn’t been altered.
There was nothing under the bed.
I eyed the fireplace, wondering if I should douse it and check the brick in the back.
Kelly said, “What do you think you’re going to find?”
He was sitting on the bed. He wore the same hoodie I had worn, the one I’d stolen from his room before I left Green Creek. He watched me with a curious expression, and though I tried not to look directly at him, it was almost impossible not to.
“Carter?”
“I don’t know.”
He nodded. The bed squeaked as he slid on it back against the wall, legs crossed in front of him. He tugged at the sleeves of the hoodie, something he did when he was nervous or tired. He looked around the cabin. “Doesn’t seem like much, huh?”
“No.”
“He doesn’t have anything.”
I looked around the cabin. “It’s like he’s….”
“Stagnant. Stuck.”
“Yeah. Maybe.”
“You found him, though.”
“I…. He doesn’t want me here.”
Kelly snorted. “I could have told you that a long time ago. Come on, man. You had to know that’s what he was going to say. And there’s probably some truth to it too, though I think it has less to do with you and more to do with his father. What’s the plan here, Carter? You’ve had a year to come up with something. You can’t have thought he was going to listen to you. You left us all to find him. Guess what? He’s here. You’re here. What happens now?”
“I don’t know.”
Kelly shrugged. “Did you ever?”
“I thought so.”
“Why?”
“Why did you never stop going after Robbie?”
Kelly said, “Because he was my mate. I love him. And I promised myself that nothing would stand between us, that I would do anything to get him back.” He cocked his head at me. “Do you love Gavin?”
No. No, I didn’t. Not like he meant. Not like that. It wasn’t like that.
And he said, “Oh, yeah, sure, completely not like that at all,” and it should have scared me more that he answered me although I hadn’t spoken out loud. But I was just so relieved he was here, that I wasn’t alone. “Yet here you are.”
“Here I am,” I echoed.
“Carter?”
“Yeah?”
“Come here.”
I went. I couldn’t not. He was my brother, and I was lost.
He welcomed me with open arms, pulling me down onto the bed. I lay between his legs, my head on his chest. I ignored the fact that I couldn’t hear his heart. It didn’t seem important, not when his hands were in my hair, tugging gently. He hummed a song that reminded me of our mother under his breath. I squeezed my eyes shut.
“It’s okay,” he said quietly.
It wasn’t. Nothing about this was okay. “What do I do?”
“Well, threatening him doesn’t seem to be working. In case you were wondering.”
“Not helping.”
“And it’s not like you can take out Livingstone on your own.”
“Really not helping.”
He laughed. “Yeah, sorry about that.” He sobered. “Is this worth it? All that you’ve endured to be here, now, where you are?”
“I don’t know,” I whispered.
“But?”
“It feels… important.”
He said, “I dream about you. Can I tell you about it?”
I could barely breathe.
He said, “In these dreams, we’re happy. We’re together. It’s you and me and Joe. We’re running together. Sometimes we’re wolves, and sometimes we’re human. You’re the fastest, because you’ve always been. But you never leave us behind. Joe’s the strongest, because he’s the Alpha, and it’s his job to be brave.”
“What about you?”
He shifted slightly underneath me. “What do you think?”
“The smartest. You’re the smartest. I always thought so.”
“Did you?”
“Yeah. And you’re… kind. Even to those who don’t deserve it. I don’t know how to be that way.”
“That’s why you have me,” he said. “To show you kindness. To remind you that even when all seems dark, there is always a light if you just know where to look for it.”
“You’re not—”
“Real,” he said. “No, I’m not. But for now, let’s pretend I am. Let’s pretend we’re together. We’re happy. It’s you and me and Joe. We’re running together. The wind is in our hair, and the ground is solid beneath our feet. We howl at the moon and the stars because they’re ours, and nothing can ever come between us. Nothing will ever keep us apart.”
My eyes felt heavy, and as I drifted away, listening to my little brother telling me stories of my greatest wish, I wondered if it was ever going to be real again.
KELLY WAS GONE when I opened my eyes.
The sky outside was dark.
I sat up in the bed, unsure what had awoken me. The fire was low, the embers glowing. Snow fell outside the window, the flakes fat and white.
The door creaked as if something pressed against it.
The cabin was cold as I stood from the bed.
I looked at the door.
It creaked again, and it took me a moment to realize what it was.
Scratching.
Something was weakly scratching against the door.
I went to it. I put my hand on the latch, took a breath, and then opened it.
A timber wolf lay in front of it, sides heaving. He lifted his head, tongue lolling out of his mouth. His eyes flashed violet, but the color was dull. He let out a whine and lay his head back down.
I crouched next to him, holding my hand out above him, fingers shaking. When he didn’t snap at me, I pressed my hand against him, looking for a wound. His fur was cold and wet, but he didn’t seem to be injured.
“What happened?” I asked him.
His tail thumped once.
“Can you get up? Get inside?”
He closed his eyes. I felt his muscles tense as he tried to stand, but he only made it partway up before he collapsed again.
“Shit,” I muttered. “I swear to god, if you try and bite me, I’m gonna leave you out here. You get me?”
He grumbled.
“Yeah, yeah. I don’t care. Don’t bite me.”
I slid my hands underneath him. His heart was slow and sluggish against his ribs. I grunted as I lifted him. He was much heavier than I expected. Either that or I was weaker than I thought. It was awkward trying to get him through the door, and he yelped when his head banged against the wall, tail twitching against my side. “I feel real bad about that. Stop moving or I’ll do it again.”
Somehow we made it inside. I laid him on the floor in front of the fireplace as carefully as I could. He sighed as he closed his eyes. I went to the fire and threw more woo
d on, stoking the embers until the logs caught. It’d take a while to get the room warm again, but I was wide-awake now.
I went to the lantern on the table, found the switch on the side, and flipped it up. The light was bright, and I squinted against it as I lifted the lantern. I set it down on the floor next to him. “I’m going to touch you again,” I told him. “Don’t get any ideas.”
One eye opened, staring at me balefully.
“Don’t give me that look. Just… let me do this.”
He didn’t argue as I ran my hands over him again. His paws kicked slightly as my fingers pressed against his stomach, and I was struck, then, by how it used to be. In Green Creek, my shadow trailed after me no matter where I went. Some days he would sleep on the floor next to my bed. Others he’d be on the bed, and I’d have to fight for a little corner, my legs curled up against my chest, uncomfortable but not doing much to make him move. It took me longer than I cared to admit to realize he was doing it on purpose. I finally caught him when I tried to stretch my legs and my feet pressed against his stomach. I’d curled my toes and was shocked when he snorted, almost like he was laughing.
How bright and fierce this memory was, something so tiny in the face of everything. I’d forgotten that he was ticklish on his stomach.
I left his stomach alone. It hurt too much to think about.
There was nothing.
Not on his body or his hindquarters or his head, though he didn’t let me get too close there, snapping his fangs at me as I ran a finger along the side of his face.
Whatever was wrong with him didn’t seem physical, at least that I could find.
“What happened to you?”
He turned his head away from me.
“I’m going to find out. You know I will.”
Nothing.
“Whatever.” I reached back and grabbed the blanket from the bed and pulled it down and over me. I lay down on the floor, the fire warm against my chilled skin. His back paws pressed against my legs, and I waited for him to move them, to put more space between us.
He didn’t.
The sky was just beginning to lighten when I fell asleep.
HUMAN EYES STARED DOWN at me when I awoke.
He looked away quickly, turning to feed the fire.
He was wearing my shorts again.
“What time is it?” I asked as I rubbed my eyes.
He didn’t answer.
“Oh, that’s right. You don’t have a clock. And my phone is broken. I don’t even know why I’m asking.”
“You still did,” he grunted. “Mouth always open. Always moving.”
“Maybe don’t focus on my mouth so much.”
He stiffened.
I sighed. “I didn’t mean it like that.”
“The witch,” he said. “The witch told you.”
It took me a moment to figure out what he was talking about. The woman in Kentucky who’d given me his note. The witch who’d rushed out after me before I left, telling me she knew who I was looking for. And where to look. “She… recognized you. Said it came to her later.”
He nodded tightly. “Mistake.”
“What is?”
He waved his hand jerkily. “This. Everything. All of it. Should have known. Should have seen.” He tapped the side of his head. “I… got lost. In here. Foggy. Heavy.”
I pushed myself up, the blanket sliding to the floor. I was stiff and sore, and my jeans felt rough against my legs. I didn’t have anything to change into. “Because you’re an Omega.”
His face twisted painfully. He sneered at the fire. “Yes. Omega. Bad wolf. Big bad wolf.”
“I get it, man. I was there too.” Understatement. Though it’d scared the shit out of me, I’d trusted Gordo when he said I needed to give in to it. That I needed to let it consume me. It’d been easier than I expected. I was holding it back, and once I let go, once I let the Omega rise, Kelly’s tears stinging my nostrils, I had time to wonder why I’d fought it at all. There was rage, sure, a furious storm that almost obliterated everything else, my humanity falling away into nothing. But it’d felt comforting, almost seductive. The tendrils of violet that wrapped themselves around my head and heart were strong and thick. I gave in to the animal underneath, and I knew that fog Gavin spoke of. I’d lived it.
And yet, through it came a bright and shining light, a beacon in the dark.
Ox.
Gavin said, “Not like you were. Magic broke. It’s different. You feel it now?”
Not like it used to be. But it was closer than I cared to admit. “No.”
“You lie. Smell different. Not Omega. But not Beta.”
“You don’t know what I was like before. You weren’t there. You only came when shit went crazy. When that hunter chick dragged—”
He whirled on me, hand raised, claws out.
I didn’t flinch.
He did. He stared at his hand in horror, claws receding. He slid away from me, putting space between us. “No. Don’t. Don’t talk about. About her. It’s not. It’s not. Don’t.”
I held up my hands. “Okay.”
“You need pack,” he said, curling in on himself. “You need home. Go. Before you can’t.”
I shook my head. “I told you, I’m not going to leave here without you.”
“I’m not going.”
“Then I guess we’re stuck here. You think you’re stubborn? Man, you haven’t seen anything yet. Where did you go last night? What happened to you?”
“Stop talking.”
“Fuck you. Did you go to Livingstone? Is he doing something to you?”
“Stop. Talking.”
“Make me.”
He said, “I heard you. Talking. To your brother. To Kelly. He’s not here.”
I recoiled. “That’s not…. It wasn’t anything. It’s—”
“You left him.”
Anger, bright and hot. “You left—”
Me.
I couldn’t get the word out.
“Make things worse,” he said, and I knew then what he was doing. What he was trying to force. “Robbie gone. Kelly sad. Robbie comes back. Kelly happy. Then you leave. Break him again. And now he’s ghost. In your head. I know ghosts. I see ghosts.”
Are you… are you real?
I felt cold. “What ghosts? Who do you see?”
He shook his head. “Doesn’t matter. You hurt him. You hurt Kelly. Go home. Make him better. Make yourself better. Find pack.”
It dawned on me then what this meant. The hidden meaning behind his words, a gift I didn’t think he meant to give. “You remember.”
He lifted his head, eyes narrowing. “What?”
“You said Kelly. Kelly sad. Kelly happy. How do you know his name?”
He glanced toward the door like he was looking for an escape. “Heard you say it. Crazy. You’re crazy. Talking to ghosts.”
“And Robbie? You said his name too. You remember, don’t you. The pack. The people. Do you remember everything?”
He looked like a cornered animal, eyes panicky. “No, no, no.”
“You do. Because I remember being an Omega stuck in all that violet. It wasn’t like it was as a human. It was… broken down. Base instinct. But I knew. I could hear them. I could feel them. My pack. My Alphas. My tether. Voices in my head through all that rage. I wanted to hurt them, but I loved them still.”
He rocked back and forth, hugging himself.
“When? When did you know? What did you know? Did you know about Gordo? That he was your—”
He seemed to seize, nearly falling over. He caught himself at the last moment, hands against the floor, claws digging into the dirt. “Gordo,” he growled through clenched teeth. “Gordo. Gordo. Not brother. Not brother.”
“I don’t know how to break it to you, man, but he kind of is. Half brother, at least.”
“Not brother. Witch. Don’t need him. Don’t want him. Don’t want you. Go. Go.”
“I won’t.”
He stood abruptl
y, going for the door.
“Why did you stay?”
He stopped but didn’t turn around.
My throat was raw. “If you didn’t want us, if you didn’t want a pack, then why did you stay with us? Years, Gavin. You were there for years. You can lie to yourself, but don’t think it’s working on me. You could have gone anywhere. But you knew, didn’t you? About Gordo.” I swallowed past the lump in my throat. “About me.”
He reached for the door.
“I’ll follow you.”
He paused again.
I didn’t know what else to do. I needed him to hear me, to understand. I needed to understand. “I don’t know where you’ll go, but I’ll follow you.”
He leaned his forehead against the door, panting. “You can’t. You can’t.”
“I don’t care.”
“You can’t.”
“Because your father is out there.”
He nodded against the door, hands in fists at his sides.
I stood, staying where I was so I didn’t spook him. “We can leave. The both of us. We’ll go back to the truck. If it hasn’t been damaged, we can drive out of here. Gavin, we can go home.” The words tasted like ash, a burning dream of all that I’d left behind.
And he said, “I have no home.”
I grunted as if gut-punched.
But he stepped away from the door.
He dropped the shorts, stepping out of them and leaving them where they fell. He inhaled deeply, and I barely made a sound when he shifted into the timber wolf.
He shook his head, ears against his skull.
He went to the bed and hopped up onto it. It creaked dangerously under his heavy weight. He lay down, his paws hanging off the edge. He closed his eyes. He looked ridiculous, the bed too small for something his size. I wondered if he’d always slept there before I arrived.
“Just because you’re shifted doesn’t mean I’ll stop talking.”
He turned his head into his stomach, paws over his head.
“…AND THAT BRINGS US TO SENIOR YEAR,” I told him, hands behind my head as I lay near the fire. I’d been talking for the past three hours, hoping to get some sort of reaction out of him. I knew he wasn’t sleeping because I’d feel his eyes on me every now and then. When I’d look, he’d snap them closed, but if he was trying to be subtle, he was failing. “Which is probably my favorite of all the school years, because that’s when I lost my virginity to a nice girl named Amy. She had the biggest—”