If Ivy and Abby could see me now, they’d surely freak. They’d blame themselves for not insisting I return with them and gripe at me for being so stubborn. One thing was for sure, they’d never let me set foot in Riverside again.
There were no signs of civilization—Gerald’s Garage, or a cabin. I was really getting cold. My nose was starting to sting, and the freezing temperatures were penetrating my thin hoodie. Originally, I was only a short distance from my house, and now I’d managed to get myself so turned around, I wasn’t even sure where I was on the planet. My good mood had soured. The weather had gotten the best of me. My chest felt heavy and my breathing became short. My heart pounded. And though I was cold, I started to perspire. I still had no idea where I was and which direction I’d been going. And most important, I didn’t know how I was going to get out.
The wind and snow weren’t ceasing; instead, the snow drove down in a blinding heavy fall, and the wind whipped it around me.
I decided to call my parents. I knew someone would surely come to my rescue. I pulled out my cell but couldn’t get a signal.
I remembered that sinking feeling when I was a kid and I was lost in a store and feared my mom would leave me behind. And though I was older, I felt the same isolation and desperation. I took a deep breath, attempting to calm myself.
I tried my phone again, but still no connection.
I knew the world was bustling like it normally did in inclement weather. Children coming home from school grabbing their sleds. Adults stocking up on milk and bread at the grocery store. And then there was me—stuck in the middle of nowhere.
The solitude was eerie. It wasn’t like when I was inside my bedroom listening to my music, knowing my family would return from a night out. There was no one coming for me. Ivy and Abby were heading in the opposite direction and wouldn’t realize for hours that I wasn’t home. Nash was at practice and wouldn’t contact me until late evening. And my mom thought I was with Ivy and Abby. She wouldn’t wonder where I was until dinner.
I should have been home by now. The sun would be setting soon and Mom would be serving a delicious, piping hot meal. Instead, I was growing hungry and was lost in the woods in a major blizzard. The snow began to rise around me. It was only going to get darker and colder.
If I wasn’t in trouble now, I knew I would be by nightfall. I’d heard about the seriousness of frostbite and hypothermia. I imagined being forced to spend the night here, taking shelter by a tree. I couldn’t imagine sleeping in the snow without a tent, a down sleeping bag, or a burning fire.
With no protection from the wind, snow, and cold, I was sure to freeze. Many creatures called the woods their home; I didn’t know what they might do to a lost intruder.
Time seemed to slow down to a grinding halt. Every minute felt like days. Had I been lost for a few moments or a few hours? The bright white sky grew darker. The sun had gone behind the storm clouds, and now I feared it was moments away from setting.
“Help!” I called. “Please—can anyone hear me?” I shouted as loudly as my voice would carry.
Snow tapped against my face and eyelashes and fell into my mouth. My calls went unanswered.
“Where am I?” I shouted. Frustrated, I kicked my boot into the snow. I felt like throwing my phone, too, but I knew it was my only lifeline—even if it didn’t work. I clung to it, hoping once I changed positions it would catch a signal. I had to do something. Snow reflected off the clouds and illuminated part of the woods. I had to make a decision—continue on and hope I reached the road, or backtrack and retrace my footprints? I chose to attempt to try to return the way I came. I was following my wayward footsteps when I heard a cry in the distance. It was the howl of a wolf.
I froze.
I tried not to panic. For all I knew, the wolf was miles away. I recalled tanning in the summer’s sun with my eyes closed and how voices always seemed much closer than the people talking actually were. This must be the same thing, I tried to assure myself.
The air was getting colder. I covered my mouth with my scarf to warm my face, breath, and lungs. The snow and wind continued to push against me but I knew I had to move. I took a few steps. It was as difficult as walking on the moon.
Then I heard the howl again. This time it was definitely closer, eyes open or not.
I started to walk, briskly this time. Though I was tired and my boots were now heavy, I ventured on. I had a fifty-fifty chance of going farther into the woods or making my way out of it. Normally I wasn’t a gambling person, but I didn’t have a choice. It was hunt or be hunted.
When the wolf cried again, I picked up my pace and moved quickly, running through my filling tracks. At this point I didn’t care which way I was going, just as long as it was away from danger.
Then I heard another howl. Closer.
I wasn’t sure which direction it was coming from. As I hurried along, I clutched my cell phone. My hands were shaking in the cold and in fear. I checked for a signal, but still nothing.
I heard a howl again. This time it seemed only yards away.
Being lost was one thing. If I could stay calm and possibly ride out the storm, I might be able to figure out the shortest route home. But this was deathly different. There wasn’t time. I had to get out now—or not get out at all.
“Please help me!” I screamed again. “I’m lost!”
I only heard the sound of the wind and the tapping of the supersized flakes hitting the trees and ground and my own raspy breathing.
Then I heard a different howl. It couldn’t be—another wolf? This time the howl seemed a few feet away and coming from another direction.
My heart accelerated. My teeth began to chatter, not because I was cold, but because I was scared to death. The silence only magnified my intense pangs of isolation. I’d never felt so alone and scared. I didn’t want to die.
“Someone—please help me!” I screamed. “Help!”
I was blinded, lost, cold, and alone—only I wasn’t as alone as I would have liked. Branches crunched and twigs crackled, and the sound of heavy breathing was near.
Then I heard a deep, maddening, and fiery growl. This time it was coming from behind me. I immediately stopped in my tracks, fear penetrating through me. Hesitantly, I turned.
Between the heavy-falling snow appeared a ghastly sight—four pairs of gray, beastly eyes.
I’d never been so close to wolves as I was now—not even in a zoo with a steel cage between us.
The wolves crept closer. I could see their wet noses and the breath coming from their snouts. They licked their lips.
Terror shot through me like piercing icicles. I quietly positioned my cell phone. Finally. A connection! My fingers shaking, I began to press the number nine. Then I managed to press the number one.
The leader of the pack growled, exposing his white fangs and black gums. Another wolf barked. Startled, I flinched. The phone fell into the snow.
I learned in Health and Safety class that in the unlikely event that a person encountered a wolf, the person should try to make themselves appear bigger. I stood on my tiptoes, which was difficult to do in the piling snow and my bulky, furry boots, and raised my hands in the air.
“Help!” I called. “Please, someone—help!”
I took a few steps backward, making sure I didn’t turn my back on them. They paced back and forth, watching.
My arms became heavy; I couldn’t keep them up much longer. I hummed a sweet tune to myself, hoping it would relax me and the wolves.
There was a break in the overcast sky. The full moon peeked out. Celestial and glowing, it radiated its magnificent brilliance as if it were trying to comfort me. But I was far from comforted.
The wolves weren’t budging, and my circulation was draining out from my fingertips. It would only be moments until I’d have to bring down my arms, and then I knew they’d surely attack.
I felt a presence behind me and my breath stopped. Just like that, I was surrounded. I was frozen with fear, my he
art pounding, my fingers still shaking, my lips quivering. I closed my eyes and began to pray. I wondered how my parents would find me—if they’d even find me. I imagined Ivy and Abby spending the next three years shopping without me and Nash finding comfort in someone else’s arms. And I realized that in my seventeen years I hadn’t experienced the one thing that had always eluded me—true love.
Then whatever that presence was jumped out from behind me. I covered my head and screamed.
I heard a lot of scuffling, growling, and howling. It took a few moments for me to even realize I wasn’t in any physical pain. Was I already dead?
I peeked out from my defenses. I saw a figure holding a large tree branch.
The figure swung at the pack with the branch, running and chasing after the wolves. Growling and the horrible sounds of a struggle raged just beyond my sight. I prayed the man was okay, but I wasn’t sure what was happening just a few yards away in the heavy snow. I heard a crunch, then a male voice yell. All at once, there was a smack and the sound of yelping. Then there was dead silence.
I didn’t know if the person was alive. I didn’t hear the wolves. I didn’t hear the man.
I waited. I wondered if I should call out to him, but I was afraid this might excite the wolves if they were still there. I didn’t know what to do next.
When I didn’t hear a sound, I knew I had to do something. I decided to go farther into the woods and see what had happened. I was terrified of what I might find.
Just then, the figure emerged from behind a tree. The guy was alive, out of breath, and exhausted. The snow fell heavily, blocking me from seeing my rescuer. Then, all at once, striking blue eyes shone through the snow. I was even more shocked . . . it was Brandon Maddox.
I was so happy to see someone that I threw my hands up and cheered.
Brandon had been fighting the wolf pack with all his strength. The falling snow made it hard to see, the woods made it hard to navigate through, and the cold temperature made it hard to breathe.
I’d always thought Brandon was handsome, but now he looked even more magnificent.
“Are you . . . okay?” It was the first thing he asked.
“Am I okay? I wasn’t the one fighting a pack of wolves.”
Brandon tossed the branch into the woods. It was then a few dark red drops fell into the lily white snow.
“You’re bleeding!” I said, pointing to the red stains.
“What?” He didn’t even look at his hand. “What are you doing . . . here?” he asked. He was still running on adrenaline.
“You’ve been hurt,” I said. “We should get you to a doctor.”
He raised his hand. Drops continued to fall into the snow.
“You need to have that looked at,” I said. “You might need stitches.”
“It’s nothing,” he said.
“You could have rabies,” I warned.
“I’m fine.”
“Can I see?” I asked.
“Uh . . . sure.”
I hadn’t even spoken to Brandon before now, but words couldn’t express the gratitude I felt discovering anyone—especially him—here with me in the woods. I’d always been drawn to Brandon, and his heroic actions only magnified my feelings. I slowly reached out to him. Our fingers touched and I melted.
I took his hand and held it in mine. It was strong and warm even though it was wet from the falling snow. I gently peeled back his ripped glove to examine the wound. There was a bloody gash in the palm of his hand.
“You’ve been bitten!” I said, alarmed. “You’ll have to see a doctor. You don’t want it to get infected.”
“That’s okay—” he said, trying to shrug off the seriousness of the wound.
“No, you must.”
“I’m fine.”
“But you’re still bleeding. I’ll bandage it for you.” I dug my free hand into my purse and took out a pack of tissues. I applied a few tissues to his hand and unwound my scarf from around my neck. I could feel him staring at me as I tended to his wound. He examined my hair, my face, my lips. Gently, I wrapped the scarf around his hand and tucked in the ends.
We stood in the snow—in the middle of the woods, in the middle of Legend’s Run. Brandon Maddox’s hand in mine. Neither one of us was letting go.
“It’s kind of bulky,” I said, “but it will do for now.”
I felt so tired. Now, knowing someone was with me, that I wasn’t alone anymore and that I wasn’t hurt, my body started to cave in. Brandon reached out and steadied me with his good hand.
“I could have been—” I said, realizing the severity of the situation. “But you—”
It was hard for me to get past the image that plagued my mind—if Brandon hadn’t shown up when he did, I’d have been attacked by a pack of wolves. Instead, he had scared them off. But he’d been bitten.
“I’d take you to a doctor,” I said. “But I don’t even know where I am.”
Then Brandon smiled—a terminally seductive smile. The kind smiled by A-list movie stars. The kind that takes one’s breath away.
“I’ll show you,” he finally said.
I let go of his hand. As we started walking, the snowfall began to dwindle. I couldn’t feel my hands, my feet, my legs. They all seemed numb from the event, somehow moving on their own.
The flakes became smaller and eventually were more sporadic as we walked in silence. He escorted me through the woods valiantly, as if he knew this piece of land as well as his own home.
We reached the snow-covered road. A few cars passed by slowly, their tires splashing the wintry mix. I saw the roof of my house in the distance. I was closer to home than I’d thought.
“My house is just over there.” I pointed to my subdivision. I was so happy to see my house, I had to fight back tears. “I don’t know how to thank you. You . . . saved my life.”
I turned around to embrace my hero, but Brandon had already disappeared.
Chapter Eight
Rescued
I arrived home breathless, spaced out, and chilled to the bone.
“There you are!” my mom said, relieved. “Where have you been?”
I must have looked like a roughed-up snow angel. If I’d been skiing, sledding, or snowboarding—none of which my friends had time for anymore, and Ivy never liked anyway—I would have had layers of clothing, puffy gloves, earmuffs, a knit hat, and a down-filled coat.
But this time I was caught in the snow by accident and wasn’t prepared for it.
“I’ve been worried sick,” my mom said as I unzipped my now-white hoodie. Flakes fell on our tiled foyer. I shook the snow off my boots on an inside mat, but I couldn’t feel a thing—my legs and toes were numb. Our dog, Champ, bounded up to me and sniffed my pant legs.
“I called several times,” my mom continued, “but you didn’t answer. I was just getting my keys to come and look for you.”
I was so happy to be home, I was speechless. So much had just happened to me since I left Ivy and Abby, I couldn’t process everything. All I knew was I was finally home.
My mom pulled off my gloves. “Your fingers are frozen.” She warmed them in her hands.
“I got caught in that snowstorm.”
“I can see that. Are Ivy and Abby okay?”
I nodded. “I think they missed the storm.”
“They weren’t with you?” she asked, surprised.
I leaned against the staircase railings and my mom pulled off my boots. I was too tired to hike the stairs to my room. Instead, I sat on them and peeled off my jeans. My mom handed me warm sweatpants and fuzzy slipper socks from the laundry room. Champ licked my cold fingers.
I’d never been so happy to be home in all my life. The smell of pasta wafting in from the kitchen was the most pleasant scent I could have imagined. It normally bothered me when my mom fussed over me, but I was so fatigued and cold, I welcomed her care.
I followed her into the family room. I plopped down on a sofa and she covered me with a fleece blanket, and Cham
p curled up at my feet.
My mom turned on our gas fireplace and I gladly gazed at our family pictures displayed on the mantel.
“Dinner’s almost ready,” she said.
I could hear her fiddling in the kitchen behind me, but I couldn’t focus on what she was doing. I would have pinched myself to see if I was dreaming—being in the safety of my house with a fluffy family pet instead of staring at a pack of salivating wolves—only I still couldn’t feel my skin.
“She just got home,” I heard my mom tell my dad when he entered the house.
“That blizzard came out of nowhere,” he said.
I was glad to see my dad and gave him puppy-dog eyes. He touched my face. Even though he’d been outside, his warm hand heated my chilled cheek.
“I think that caught us all off guard,” he said.
“Dinner’s ready,” my mom called.
Still wrapped in my fleece blanket, I sat down at the dining table and immediately scarfed down an Italian roll.
“I didn’t realize I’d been gone so long,” I announced, glancing at the clock.
“Take your time,” my mom said. “You don’t want to choke.”
“So why weren’t you with Ivy?” my dad asked.
“I wanted to go straight home. But obviously that didn’t happen.”
“You walked home?” my dad asked.
“Yes. Then it started snowing and I ended up in the woods. I saw a wolf. And just at the last moment—”
“What?” my dad asked. “Slow down. Why were you in the woods?”
“I got lost.”
“Which woods?” my mom asked, just as concerned.
“The ones along Riverside.”
“Riverside?” she asked, horrified. “What were you doing there? Where were Abby and Ivy?” my mom wondered.
“Ivy was driving Abby to her practice before tonight’s game.”
“This still doesn’t make sense,” my dad said. “What were you doing walking in Riverside alone?”
“Abby, Ivy, and I were getting our fortunes told.”
“Didn’t the psychic tell you you shouldn’t go into the woods?” my dad asked, joking. “Seems obvious enough to me.”
Once in a Full Moon Page 5