by Kody Boye
It’s at least one-hundred miles to get to where we met Justin, I reply. And that’s not counting the journey we have to take into Louisiana.
The pups, Celestina offers.
We’ll have to push them harder, Alabaster says. It’ll be good for them.
But not good for the nursing mothers, she replies.
I sigh, but don’t attempt to interject myself into their argument. Instead, I turn, and say, We’ll do what we have to. Even if that means hunkering down for a night or two.
Jackson, Bernard, and Justin do not reply. Having deferred to me to lead us throughout the first part of our journey, they keep silent and follow steadily, only moving their heads from our destination when they hear noises in the distance. Thankfully, they are just distant cars, rumbling as they continue down the old roads of Red Wolf.
Still—no matter how hard I try to shake the thought from my mind, I cannot help but think of Alecia’s warning.
There’ll be a slaughter, she’d said.
But that had been before we’d sought out Justin, before we’d decided to take them to Louisiana.
The future is never for certain, Jackson had said.
For that reason, can I really, truly be sure that anything like that will happen? Especially now that we’re on the move?
You just have to be careful, I think, and everything should be fine.
That key word—should—is enough to make me doubt everything.
Rather than dwell on it, I force the thoughts into the back of my mind and continue to make my way forward.
At this point, there is little I can do but follow my instincts.
I can only pray, to both God and the Mother Wolf, that we will be safe.
We decide to push through the woods for as long as we can. As such, we walk for hours—guided by moonlight, led by intuition. The wolves around us listen to Alabaster and Celestina’s commands, and only come to pause when the pups begin to whine.
We must stop, Celestina says.
I agree, Alabaster replies. The pups are tired. We can go no further.
Of course we can’t, I think, but choose not to voice my thoughts. I lift my head to survey the distance, only to find that, so deep in the woods, I can sense nothing, human, car, or otherwise.
With a nod, I turn to face Jackson, Bernard and Justin, then ask, What do we do now?
Now, Bernard says, we bed down for the night.
Do we need to take watch? I continue.
Justin snorts.
Bernard shakes his head.
Jackson says, You’ve never slept in your wolf form. You’d be surprised what all you can hear.
A single step will be all it takes to awaken you, Alabaster says from where he’s been instructing the wolves to bed down. Do not fear. We will hear anyone or thing that approaches.
With that said, I lower myself to the ground and sigh, thankful that my fur is soft, thick, and warm on this cold and unforgiving night.
I ask, How far have we walked?
To which Justin replies with, Long enough.
Do you know where we are?
I can gather, based off the smell. He inhales a deep breath of the night air. We should be reaching the city sometime tomorrow.
And after that? Jackson asks. We just… what? Make our way down the lake to Louisiana?
Exactly, Justin replies.
With a nod, I settle my head down to the ground and try my hardest not to succumb to doubt, but find myself doing just that regardless.
Don’t be afraid, a part of me says. Everything’s going to be fine.
Will it, though? Will it really? Because no matter how hard I try to think otherwise, I can’t help but think otherwise.
How had we escaped Red Wolf so easily? I wonder. Had it been luck on our part? A mistake on Fish and Game’s?
The fact is: I don’t know—and though I know that we are as safe as we can possibly be right now, I don’t want to get too comfortable as of yet.
With one last sigh, I close my eyes in the hopes of dozing off.
I’m surprised at how quickly I do.
Chapter Twenty-Two
The night passes, and morning comes. Cold, and desperate, and unsure what exactly we will face today, I open my eyes to find that the wolves are standing at the ready, and attempting to rouse the pups who are only just beginning to sluggishly rise.
You’re awake, Bernard says, lowering his head to face me.
I blink, then nod and say, Yes. I am.
Good. We were just getting ready to wake you.
How is everything? I ask as I push myself upright, then offer a long, drawn-out yawn that exposes my sharp teeth.
Everything’s fine, Alabaster says, stepping into view. Do not worry. We lived to survive another day.
For now, Celestina says.
I nod, and stretch my legs out in front of me before saying, Are we ready to go?
Almost, Alabaster says. We’re waiting for the silver wolf to return.
Justin? I think, and turn my head to inhale. His scent is there—drifting downwind, thick and heavy—but he is nowhere to be seen.
Bernard, I say. Where did Justin go?
He’s scouting ahead. We have to cross an old road today.
If I could frown, I would. Instead, I expel a huff of air.
The bushes rustle.
The wolves turn.
I tense, hair along my neck bristling.
Justin appears a short moment later.
Is the road clear? Bernard asks.
We’re in luck, Justin replies. It’s been blocked off for construction.
But is anyone there?
The silver-haired wolf shakes his head. No. There isn’t.
Thank the Mother Wolf, Bernard says.
We shouldn’t dawdle, Alabaster says. While it may be blocked off for now, that does not mean that humans will not show up.
He’s right, Celestina adds. We should go.
So we do.
Starting forward, crossing the distance between us and the thick bushes, pushing through, then emerging out the other side them—it becomes quickly apparent, in the moments after we begin to make our way through the edge of the woods, that we will have to potentially expose ourselves in order to make our way toward the passage that will eventually lead to Louisiana.
Try not to worry, a part of me instructs. You’ll just make the others nervous.
Fear is a tangible emotion. Born of desperation, and filled with greed, it attempts to latch on to anything it can. Like an iron weight it will drag them into the sea, effortlessly pulling them to where they can’t breathe.
And they’ll drown, my wolf spirit says. Just remember that.
I nod, and brace myself for what is to come.
In moments, we break through the tree-line—
Only to face the haunting sight before us.
The road is broad. Two-laned, with wide shoulders, and with asphalt tarnished from the weight of many, it is obvious that this road was recently well-traveled.
But it isn’t, I think. Not now.
I inhale a deep breath through my nose and exhale it out my mouth before turning to face Alabaster and Celestina. Go, I say.
Why— the beautiful female wolf asks.
Because we need to stay back in case something happens.
You would leave us to fend for our pups, alone? What do you take us for? We are not fools!
It’s not about being a fool! I snap. It’s about being smart and making sure you stay safe!
But what are you—
Alabaster steps forward. She is right, he says. We must go, for the pups’ sakes.
But they—we—
He shakes his head. No. We must go.
Celestina nods. Yes. We should.
The two wolves turn their heads toward the rest of the pack—seven adults and four pups who, in our midst, and without human foresight, can do little more than stare. But, in the moments that follow, Celestina steps forward, and begins to ooze a com
manding presence that I can distinctly determine as a wolf. While I cannot understand what exactly is transpiring, I can imagine that she is telling them what needs to happen, and how to go about it as a result.
Alabaster says, It is done.
To which I reply with, You will go, then?
We will go, he replies. Now.
The wolf turns—and, after looking up, then down the road, begins to trot forward.
Celestina follows.
The rest of the red wolf pack does in kind.
I turn to Justin and ask, Is this safe?
And he says, I hope so.
You hope so?
This is the only road that’s closed off, Oaklynn. It’s the safest shot we have.
I want to argue. I feel the need to do so. And yet, I know that I cannot, for what use is there in arguing when there is no ulterior outcome that can come as a result of it?
Come on, I say as the wolves begin to cross the road, who take extra care in keeping a steady pace for the pups. We need to hurry.
They’re going, Jackson replies. Why are you so concerned?
Because I—
The sound of an approaching truck enters our ears.
Bernard swears.
Justin takes off into a run.
I, in response, do the same.
I watch Justin take hold of one of the pups in his jaws; and though I am hesitant to do so for fear of hurting it, I know that harming the animal is better than letting it die at the hands of truckers. As a result, I take the creature into my mouth and burst forward, turning my head only slightly to see if Jackson and Bernard have done the same.
The pups protest. Grunt. Bark.
I, meanwhile, can feel my heart pounding against my ribcage.
There’s still a good thirty feet between us and the woods, and if we don’t make it in time—
We’re going to, I think. We’re going to make it. We have to. We—
Celestina turns. Looks. Stares.
I tilt my head just in time to see Bernard and Jackson rush past me.
I want so desperately to ask what’s happening. To see what’s going on. But I know that, if I pause, and if I turn my head, I will surely be left behind.
Bursting into a sprint, I clear the expanse of the road—
Just in time for a truck to come barreling along.
I can hear the brakes screeching. The window rolling. The person saying, Holy shi—
But I don’t bother to listen.
I drop the pup off on the side of the road, and with all my mental might, scream: Run!
The pups, and the wolves, take off into the woods.
I turn my head to see that the massive white truck has come to a halt alongside the road—and that a man is stepping out with a gun.
Run, Oaklynn! Jackson yells.
I take off into the woods just in time for a bullet to sheer past my head.
Keep going! I cry, pushing myself as fast and as hard as I can through the thicket. We have to run! Now!
The pups! Celestina cries.
The four of us shifters take the babes into our jaws once more and rush with the pack, maneuvering through bushes, dodging around trees, and making our way beyond snarled roots. The man’s gun goes off again, and though crazy as people happen to be, I know for a fact that this man has to be downright insane.
Shooting, in the middle of the day, alongside a construction zone—
I decide not to bother thinking about it any longer.
Rather, I pursue Celestina and Alabaster, and pray to the Mother Wolf that we will be safe.
Chapter Twenty-Three
I don’t know for how long we run. All I know is that, by the time the gun stops firing, and we are far beyond the road, that I can run no more.
We have to stop, I say, matter-of-factly.
I agree, Bernard replies.
I collapse upon the ground, and try my hardest to breathe evenly despite the fact that I feel as though my lungs will burst.
Are you all right? Jackson asks.
I’m fine, I lie. Don’t worry about me.
Are you sure?
Jackson—
Leave her be, Bernard says as he comes to lie down beside me. She’s just tired.
We all are, Justin says. He lifts his head to survey the red wolf pack ahead of us and offers a long, drawn-out sigh. We’re lucky. Really lucky.
Yeah, Bernard says. We are.
How far out are we? I ask.
Less than a day, Justin replies.
So, realistically, we should be there by tomorrow.
Yes. We should.
I sigh once more, but this time, lift my head to find Celestina approaching, her slender head pointed down, her eyes gazing directly at me.
Celestina, I say.
I thank you, she says, for the swift actions by you and your friends. Without your help, we surely would have been hurt. Or worse—killed.
We’re on the same side, you know?
I… am now seeing that, the wolf says, and nods accordingly. She turns her head back to look at her mate, then says, We are approaching the passage to Louisiana soon?
We are, Justin says.
Then I expect you’ll to be able to lead us there without fault?
Correct.
The wolf nods once more before turning to return to her mate.
I lie my head down on the cool ground and shudder as Jackson comes to lie beside me.
Rest, he says. I know these sort of things take their toll on you.
Are you saying that because I get anxious? Or because…
Because you’ve carried a lot these past few days, Jackson offers.
I can only sigh.
With that said, though, I close my eyes, take a long, deep breath, and then allow a rhythm to fall into place.
It doesn’t take long to fall asleep.
The next time I awaken, it is to voices.
We should leave, Alabaster says. Now.
I blink, stunned, and lift my head slowly to look at them. Is something wrong? I ask.
We are safer under the cover of darkness, Alabaster offers as he turns his eyes upon me. You know this just as well as we do.
He’s right, Bernard says, straightening his posture as he comes to stand beside Jackson, who is slowly rising from his own place along the forest floor. We need to leave now, while we still have the time.
We have all the time in the world, though, Jackson says, then huffs and adds, right?
Alabaster turns his head toward Celestina.
I stand.
She lowers her head.
You didn’t tell them, Alabaster says, did you?
I did not want to be considered a burden, she replies.
Wait, I say, trailing my eyes from her, to Alabaster, then back to her again. What’s going on?
Isn’t it obvious? Justin asks. She’s pregnant.
I… we… she… I stop, and shudder. It is as though Death Himself has walked into the room, and though kind in that he will not strike us down, he lingers in the event that he must. As a result, I turn my head to face Celestina, and ask, Why didn’t you tell us?
As I have said: I did not want to be a burden.
But this is an issue we should’ve discussed! I cry. We should have known that you were pregnant.
My pups are not stirring.
Yet, Alabaster says. You forget to say that they are not stirring yet.
Curse you, Alabaster.
What can I say? You’re beautiful, my love.
Celestina growls at him as he nuzzles the side of her face with his own.
I, meanwhile, can only stare.
Celestina lifts her head to face me—and though I want to be consumed by madness, by fury, I know I cannot be. She couldn’t have anticipated having to leave. She couldn’t have known that, one day, someone—or, more aptly, something—would go mad, and tilt everything upside-down.
A puff of air escapes me.
Jackson draws up alongside me. Says, It�
��s okay.
And I’m left to reply with, Not if she goes into labor.
I won’t, Celestina says.
But you can’t control that. You know that.
I... She pauses, then lowers her head. You are right. I cannot control that.
Rather than argue any further, I turn to face Justin, and ask, How far do we have to go?
Not far, he replies. We just need to make haste, now, before the sun comes up.
Right, I say.
I turn my head to the distance—to the unforgiving wilderness that keeps us from being spotted from anyone or anything—and take a step forward.
Though I wait until Justin begins to lead to pursue, I find myself dreading each step I take.
For all I know, something could go wrong.
But it won’t, the wolf inside me says. Believe, and it shall be.
Believe and it shall be, I think a short moment after. Believe and it shall be.
Chapter Twenty-Four
The lake rises before us like a monument to a forgotten world. Crystalline in its clarity, and so inviting that all I want to do is drink, I find myself shifting from foot to foot as I consider its presence, and tremble as a result.
Is this—I start to say.
The pass? Justin asks. Yes. It is.
It is merely a strait through which we are meant to travel. Bordered by open lake on one side and trees on the other, it lends to the promise that, should we be careful, we will be safe. But fact is: I know we won’t be safe until we make our way through.
And worst yet: the wild wolves are hungry.
They have been licking their lips. Whimpering. Scrounging for bugs and rodents. Without the ability to hunt, and restrained by Alabaster and Celestina’s higher intelligence, they are becoming restless. As a result, I know that we only have a certain amount of time before we are forced to cave to their demands.
This is the final domain, Bernard says, before we reach Louisiana.
Do you wish us to go alone? Alabaster asks, coming to stand beside Celestina to look at the four of us.
No, I say. I don’t.
Oaklynn, Jackson starts. Are you sure you—
I promised I’d take them here, I say. I’m not going to fall back on that.
You are a brave creature, Celestina says. I thank you.