The Wolves Within

by David Lucin

  Jenn hated to think that refugees had done this. Any violence that could be tied to them would only give Grierson and CFF the ammunition they needed to push their message even harder.

  The Nissan whined as Dylan sped up along a straight stretch. They’d run out of gasoline a few weeks ago, so the vehicle ran solely on electric power from the off-grid solar panels at the farm. They dropped Bryce off at his place, a house with a peaked roof and a yard full of coniferous trees. Door open, one foot outside, Bryce told Dylan, “I’m supposed to be off tomorrow, but I’ll swing by late morning, see what’s up.”

  “Sounds like a plan,” Dylan said. Bryce didn’t even offer his fist for Dylan to bump, only slunk out and gathered his bag and bike from the bed. Before going inside, he knocked his knuckle on Jenn’s window and gave her a questioning thumbs-up. She managed a wooden smile, but that was all.

  After she sat shotgun, Dylan pulled away from Bryce’s. “Sam home tonight?” he asked.

  “Yeah. Where else would he be?”

  He pressed the brakes and took a right at a T-intersection with an old closed-down gas station on the corner. “Just making sure. You shouldn’t be alone, so I was gonna say that you can come stay at the farm if he’s not there.”

  “He is,” Jenn assured him. “Thanks, though.”

  They drove in silence the rest of the way to her and Sam’s house. Dylan parked out front, and as she reached for the door handle, he said, “Wait. Hold on a sec.” Yellows and greens from the instrument panel shone on his face. “You holding up okay?”

  “Yeah,” she lied. “I’m fine.” Internally, she cringed a little. After Phoenix, “I’m fine” was her motto when she clearly wasn’t fine. “It just doesn’t seem real, like it’s a bad dream.”

  “I hear you.” He pursed his lips. “This is gonna be tough, and it’ll get a lot harder before it gets any easier, but if you need to talk, you know where to find me.”

  “Thanks,” she said in a small voice, then reached across the truck and gave him a hug. Not wanting to let him go but not knowing what else to say, she joked, “So Charlie, huh? Allison’s excited for you guys.”

  He scrunched up his face at her.

  “Oh come on,” she teased. “You don’t think everyone knows? You were pretty much gushing over her at the cabin the other day. It was kind of cute.”

  “It’s that obvious, eh?”

  “Uh, yeah, I could see it from across the room. But word of advice?”

  “You’re giving me advice now?”

  “Yeah, I am. I’m the one in a stable, long-term relationship, remember? So you should listen.”

  “Okay,” he said, not sounding convinced.

  “Try not to screw it up, or you’ll be answering to Allison. She pretty much worships Charlie, and trust me, she’s mean when she’s angry. Like, feisty. Don’t underestimate her.”

  He laughed through his nose. “Duly noted.”

  Talking to Dylan about Allison and Charlie helped distract her, and briefly, she forgot that Val was dead and that everything had changed in a blink. Then the guilt hit her square in the stomach, so she forced down the smile tugging at her lips and stepped out of the truck.

  “Thanks for the ride,” she told him. “And the talk. I needed that.”

  “Anytime.” Before she shut the door, he said, “Jansen?” Jaw set, he gripped the steering wheel hard. “Whoever did this, we’ll find them.”

  7

  Val’s funeral was today. Jenn thought it was too soon. Only two days after the attack, Val was going into the ground, and besides a cursory investigation, the police had done nothing to track down and punish her killer. It was infuriating, but she had to remind herself that this wasn’t the world of crime scene investigators, Miranda rights, lawyers, and juries anymore. It was the world of Leviathan. A nightmare.

  With Dylan, this morning Jenn went to the morgue to pick up Val. A doctor gave them her personal effects—her clothes, a necklace, a hair tie—as well as the results of the autopsy: Val had bled out due to a bullet tearing through her hepatic artery. There wasn’t enough reserve power to keep the body refrigerated and properly preserved, so Val was wrapped tightly from head to toe, ready to be buried. Jenn wanted to see her one last time, but the doctor strongly advised against removing the shroud. Through it, Jenn could already smell the beginnings of decay.

  They decided to bury her in the woods at the Beaumonts’ property. It was as good a place as any. Val would have decried eternity at a cemetery, where there were hundreds of other bodies and visitors every day. She would have preferred somewhere quiet and peaceful, and if Val had earned one thing after a lifetime of struggle, it was to be in peace.

  A light breeze blew a loose strand of hair across Jenn’s face. The entire security staff was here. Bryce brought his wife and eleven-year-old son. Mikey and Liam stopped by, too, as well as a few cops Jenn didn’t recognize and a few others she did. In total, about forty came to say goodbye. Seeing so many warmed Jenn’s heart, though she knew Val wouldn’t have wanted this. Then again, funerals weren’t for the deceased; they were for the people who loved them. She smiled to herself, thinking about Val telling everyone to leave her alone and get back to work.

  There were no eulogies. As Dylan, Carter, Sam, and Sophie lowered Val into her grave, Ed read a passage from his Bible, but he kept it short. Val would have approved. She’d always hated speeches. “Air bags,” she called people who spoke too much and listened too little.

  “How are you holding up, sweetie?” Maria asked.

  She sat in a wheelchair, a blanket across her lap and the oxygen compressor secured at her feet. Only once since the bombs had she ventured out. This was the second. When she first offered to come to the funeral, Jenn said no, but Maria insisted. It meant the world to have her here today, so Jenn didn’t argue. She wasn’t sure she could have gone through this without her.

  “I’m doing okay,” she said. “Thanks again for coming.”

  “Of course. I wouldn’t miss it.” She gave Jenn’s hand a squeeze. “Are you ready to say goodbye?”

  Jenn stared at the hole Carter had dug. At the bottom was Val. Soon, it would be filled with earth, and Val would disappear forever, but Jenn had yet to work up the courage to see her. Most of the other mourners had. Some dropped flowers. Others knelt and said a few private words. Many had already retreated to the Beaumonts’ house, where Ed was hosting a get-together to celebrate Val’s life. But Jenn couldn’t bring herself to look. She hated goodbyes, and this goodbye was final.

  On Jenn’s right, Allison sniffled. She’d been crying since she first arrived with Charlie. Gary, one hand steadying Maria’s wheelchair, used the other to pull out a handkerchief from his pocket. “Don’t worry, it’s clean,” he assured her.

  “Thank you.” Allison took it and blew her nose. “I’ve never been very good at funerals. When my grandma died when I was like twelve, I couldn’t stop crying the whole time. My mom had to rush me out of the church because I was such a wreck.”

  “Same with my dad,” Sam said, holding Jenn’s other hand. He rarely spoke about his father, whom he lost when he was only ten. Time healed all wounds, they said, or at least numbed the pain a bit more, so maybe he’d learned to live with the loss.

  Allison, of course, reached out to him and said, “I’m so sorry. I didn’t know.”

  “It’s okay.” He gave her a reassuring smile. “It was ages ago.”

  Sam’s sister, Nicole, approached after visiting the grave, Barbara and Kevin in tow. Barbara was dressed in all black and weeping dramatically. She’d only met Val once, and this display of emotion was no doubt entirely for public consumption, but Jenn appreciated that she was here, nonetheless.

  Nicole opened her arms for a hug. “If there’s anything you need, you come ask me, okay? I realize we don’t see each other very much these days with me at the hospital and you at the farm, but I’m here for you. You know that, right?”

  Jenn held her close. She loved Nicole
like a sister and was thankful to have her. Someday, she hoped, they would have more time to spend together. “I know,” she said. “Thanks. That means a lot.”

  Kevin hung behind Nicole, his arms at his side, apparently on the fence about hugging Jenn or shaking her hand. After some deliberation, he pushed up his glasses and decided on the latter. The gesture was dreadfully awkward, but Jenn expected as much from Sam’s stepfather. “I’m sorry for your loss,” he said as though he’d rehearsed the phrase a hundred times in front of the mirror.

  “Thanks, Kevin,” Jenn said. “I’m glad you guys came.”

  Barbara was next. She threw her arms around Jenn with a flourish. The woman made a wailing sound but spoke no words. None that Jenn understood, anyway. When she pulled away, mascara was running down her face.

  “We’re going to head over to the house,” Nicole said and took her mother by the hand. “See you guys in a bit?”

  Sam answered for the group: “Sure. We’ll be right in.”

  They wandered off, passing Sophie, who wore a cream-colored blouse and black pants with no holes in them. No cap today, either. Rather, her hair was pulled into a neat ponytail. Not a single strand hung loose. At a glance, Jenn would have mistaken her for someone else. “Jansen,” she called out. “Come over here for a second, would you?”

  “Be right back,” Jenn said, letting her fingers linger on Sam’s as she moved away.

  Arms crossed, Sophie stood out of earshot of the rest of the group. Between her teeth was a wooden stick, the kind used to stir coffee. Though Sophie hadn’t had a cigarette in weeks—the town’s supply ran dry long ago—somehow, her clothes still stunk of smoke.

  “What’s up?” Jenn asked her. “You guys okay at the house?”

  “Yeah, yeah, we’re fine.” Biting down on her stick, Sophie glanced at the grave. “I don’t want to rush you, but I’ve noticed you haven’t gone over there yet.”

  Jenn shoved her hands into her pockets. “I will. I’m working on it. It’s harder than I thought it’d be.”

  Sophie grunted in acknowledgment and let the silence hang for a while. Then, “She talked about you a lot. Said you could be a real pain sometimes.”

  A laugh slipped between Jenn’s lips. “Yeah, well, she’s not wrong.”

  “Nope. You reminded her of her older sister, I think, which is weird because you’re younger than Val, but Karina would’ve been around your age when she last saw her.”

  Karina. Val rarely spoke of her. The memory was too painful. One night, though, with the help of Ed’s bourbon, she told Jenn the story. Not long after Karina’s twentieth birthday, Second Empire troops dragged her, along with her mother, out of their home in Cartagena. Spies, the Brazilians called them. Their punishment? They were raped, shot in the face, and left in the streets. Val watched it all from her window. She hadn’t even turned sixteen yet.

  Hearing that Val thought of her as a sister was too much to stomach. A tear broke free and rolled down her cheek. “God,” she said, frantically wiping it away with her sleeve. “Sorry, this is embarrassing.”

  The corners of Sophie’s mouth inched upward. She wasn’t quite smiling, but it was the closest Jenn had ever seen from her. “No one’s judging you. Not today.”

  Neither spoke for a minute. Idly, Jenn kicked a branch at her feet. Was this all Sophie wanted to talk to her about? “Well . . .” she droned. “I should probably get back.”

  “Wait,” Sophie said. “There’s a reason I called you over here, you know. If you hadn’t noticed, I’m not much for meaningless chitchat.” She reached into her pocket and pulled out a chain with a simple metal cross dangling from the end. Val’s necklace. Once, it belonged to Karina. Val had taken it from her sister when she died. Then it went with her into the jungles of Colombia, across Central America, and finally over the border and into the United States. It was all that remained of her old life and her family.

  Jenn’s knees nearly buckled as Sophie handed it to her and said, “I assume you know what it is.”

  She could only nod as she gingerly cradled the necklace in her hands.

  “I don’t have a clue what Val had planned for it,” Sophie continued. “Probably nothing, but if there’s anyone who should have it, it’s you. Val would’ve wanted it that way. Kind of a no-brainer, when I think about it.”

  Jenn ran her fingers along each edge of the cross in turn. “I don’t know what to say.”

  Sophie touched her own necklace, the one Ed had given her for their first anniversary. “Just take good care of it, even if it’s objectively a piece of junk.” She cleared her throat and turned her head. Jenn swore there was a tear glistening in the corner of Sophie’s eye.

  “Thank you,” Jenn said softly and enclosed the necklace in her hand. “I will.”

  Sophie made a sniffing sound, then dropped her stir stick and stamped it out as if it were a cigarette butt. “All right,” she said sternly, in control of her emotions once more. “I’m done watching you pussyfoot around here. If you’re not going to go say goodbye on your own, I have absolutely zero reservations about taking you by the scruff of the neck and hauling you over there, kicking and screaming if I have to. I think it’d be easier for all parties involved if you opted to pursue the former.”

  Jenn’s confidence returned. She liked to think it came from the necklace. “You sure do have a way with words, don’t you?”

  “Yeah,” Sophie said. “I’m a freaking poet. Now, get at it.”

  When Jenn rejoined her group, Sam touched the small of her back, and Maria eyed the fist holding Val’s necklace. “Feeling better?” she asked.

  “Yeah,” Jenn said honestly. “I am. Weird to say that a talk with Sophie of all people helped.”

  “I’ll go with you,” Sam offered. “To see Val.”

  “Me too,” Allison added and blew her nose yet again. “We’ll all go together.”

  “No, it’s okay. I can do it myself.” Jenn panned the woods around the grave. Sophie had disappeared. So had the rest of the mourners aside from Jenn, Sam, Allison, Gary, and Maria. “Actually, I wouldn’t mind being alone with her for a while. You guys can wait for me at the house. I’ll see you there in a few.”

  “You sure?” Sam asked, worry deepening the creases on his brow.

  “Yeah,” Jenn told him and ran her hand up his back. “I’m all right. I promise.”

  He pecked her on the top of the head. Allison hugged her. So did Maria. Gary offered her an encouraging wink.

  After they’d moved off, Jenn let out a long, shaky breath and made her way to Val.

  There was no headstone, only a collection of rocks that would mark the site. Nearby loomed a crooked ponderosa. Jenn noted the bend in its trunk and how the branches formed the shape of a bell, committing all the details to memory so she wouldn’t forget this place. Halfway there, gut swirling and fear pushing against her like a wave, she nearly turned and ran, but she steeled herself and continued forward.

  Finally, after what could have been miles, she reached the grave and knelt beside it. In her shroud, Val lay at the bottom. Jenn pictured her in the long-sleeve blue dress she wore to a celebratory dinner at the Beaumonts’ shortly after Phoenix. Despite the world falling apart around her, Val always looked her best, but in her dress, she was nothing short of stunning. Sam could hardly keep himself from staring. Jenn tried to scold him but had no ground to stand on; she was equally enthralled by Val.

  Yet the more she focused, the harder it became to see her that way—to see her alive. In an instant, she was transported to the dark Go Market parking lot. Val was in her arms, bleeding out as the sirens echoed around them. She hadn’t screamed and hadn’t cried, not even in those final terrifying moments when her life slipped away.

  Val deserved better than to be murdered in cold blood for trying to protect the resources this town depended on. She’d fought so hard for all she had and lost so much along the way. Now some animal had killed her. And for what? The attackers hadn’t even stolen any
food from the Go Market. Val’s death was meaningless. Worse, her murderer was still out there, roaming free. Knowing that he was alive and well when Val lay dead at the bottom of a grave sickened Jenn to the core. There had to be justice, and she was losing faith that the police would be the ones to deliver it.

  A fierce rage sparked to life inside her, and she ground her teeth. For two days she’d wallowed and tried to convince herself that Val wasn’t truly gone. No more. When Val lost her mother, father, and sister, she didn’t give up and wish that things had turned out differently; she picked up a gun and fought for them. Now she needed someone to fight for her.

  Clutching Val’s necklace, Jenn made her friend a promise. She’d broken dozens in her life, maybe hundreds, but this one she would keep, no matter what. Nothing was more important.

  “I’m going to find who did this to you,” she whispered. “And I’ll make them pay.”

  8

  Philip, leaning on the front bumper of his father’s SUV outside the ranch house, blinked hard and worked his jaw. He hadn’t been sleeping well since the attack on the Go Market three days ago. Every time he began to doze off, all he could see was that woman drop her radio and clutch her side.

  It was Philip who pulled the trigger. He wasn’t sure why he did it, not then and not now. Maybe the adrenaline convinced him to fire. Maybe he thought the bullet wouldn’t penetrate her vest. Maybe he feared that Dad would be disappointed if nobody was injured. Killing her hadn’t been his intention, though, which in hindsight was stupid. “You only aim a weapon at something you plan to destroy,” Mom had said when she first taught him how to shoot. Like clockwork, she repeated the mantra at the start of every lesson. Philip should have known better.

  The next day, when he heard that the woman had died from her wound, he almost threw up. He’d threatened people with knives, tied them up, and held them at gunpoint, but in all his time in Phoenix, he hadn’t taken a life with his own hands. This was his first. Her name was Valeria Flores, and he promised to never forget it.