The van smashed into the massed Revs. Bodies tumbled across the highway, the crunch of bone very loud as the cars thundered over the undead. The van continued on a few hundred feet before it swung into a wide turn and careened back into the Revs. In the flickering headlights severed limbs and heads rained down on the black road. The gore-splattered vehicle flew back down the highway and as it passed Nowen she could hear someone laughing maniacally. One of the cars followed the van; the other came to a stop not far from where Nowen lay.
A beam of light slid over the top of Everett’s head and Nowen watched him flatten himself in the dead grass. She motioned for Sage to do the same, and then turned back to watch the car. It was rolling slowly forward, the beam of light sweeping back and forth from the window. Someone, a woman by the voice, called out.
“Hey! You still out there? We saw your light!”
Nowen watched the car through the rough-edged grass. Again the woman spoke. “Look, we don’t bite! We come from a place not too far away; you’re welcome to come along!” She waited until the car moved a few feet past them and then pulled herself over to Everett and Sage. The girl’s head turned at her approach. “Well?” Sage whispered.
The woman in the car called out. “Ok, come with us or stay and get eaten - your choice!” Nowen hovered on the edge of indecision - were these people safe or not? With her wolf’s vision she looked at the girl and the man. They were staring back at her, waiting for her to make the decision. The low moan of the remaining Revs rose over the prairie and she found there was no real choice at all.
She rose to her feet and waved her hands in the air. “Here! We’re here.”
Chapter Eight
Nowen sat on a plastic lawn chair, a paper plate loaded with beef ribs and a spoonful of corn in her hands, and watched the people around her. The smell of the cooked meat was enticing, but she wouldn’t eat until she was sure she was safe. Somewhere a violin was playing, soft sad notes that gave a disharmonious counterpoint to the raucous atmosphere. Oil lanterns and long torches were set at close and regular intervals around a large fire pit, over which the remains of a cow dripped crackling fat into the flames.
The violin bow scraped across the strings with a harsh caw. There was a spreading silence that passed over the crowd like a pebble dropped in a pond. Then the violin started up again, a more merry sound, and was joined by other instruments Nowen couldn’t name. The noise of the crowd surged back and washed away the empty quiet.
A loud burst of laughter drew her attention. She searched through the assemblage for the source, finally locating it in a large, solid-looking woman with a long braided blonde ponytail. She was the woman who had called to Nowen from the car, and after she, Everett, and Sage had piled into the back seat the woman had introduced herself as Harmony.
As the car rocked through the dark night toward the glowing horizon Harmony had told them about their destination. “Place is called ‘Fort Phil Kearney’.” Harmony shouted in round, rolling tones that rose above the scream of wind from her cracked window. “Army fort, long time ago. Indians burned it to the ground. Now it’s home for us.”
Sage had leaned forward between the seats, plucking at Harmony’s shirt sleeve.
“Is it safe?” the girl asked.
“Safe as safes, honey bee.”
It had been Everett’s turn to lean forward then. “Really? Even with the all the Revs rising up again?”
The driver, a small thin man with skin so dark he was almost invisible spoke up. “This not something we do every night, understand? It a special occasion.”
Harmony had laughed and grabbed the driver’s shoulder. “Samson’s right - it’s a special occasion.”
“What’s the occasion?” Sage asked the driver.
“First day of spring. We survive another winter. We live.”
The remainder of the drive was spent in silence. As the car approached their destination the fort’s defenses became obvious. Long barricades of rough-hewn logs bound with barbed wire stretched off on either side of the road down which they traveled. She picked out towers along the fence, and the people that manned them. Samson had pulled the car off the road and onto a paved lot before the entrance to the fort, and Harmony had led Nowen, Everett and Sage into the fort itself.
Sage suddenly appeared in front of her, drawing Nowen out of her reverie. The girl was dragging a step stool which she plunked down next to Nowen’s chair and then dropped down on it. “Wow, this place is incredible, huh?!” Sage held a paper plate out to Nowen. “Doughnut?”
Nowen looked at the greasy balls of fried dough. “No thanks.”
A large wad disappeared into the girl’s mouth. “Oh, this is so good! I’ve really missed sweet stuff.” Sage seemed to notice Nowen’s full plate and groaned. “You can eat it, ok? I swear, it’s not poisoned. I had, like, a pound of steak, and Everett ate twice that.”
Nowen looked in the girl’s expectant eyes. Something else was there, something close to hope, and with only a little reluctance she picked up a rib and took a bite. The taste of the beef, so different from the taste of venison, hare, and ptarmigan, hit her senses like a thunderbolt. Suddenly ravenous she stripped the meat from the bones in a matter of minutes.
She was chewing open the end of a rib to suck the marrow when she noticed Sage watching her with a distinct look of distaste. She licked grease off her lips.
“What?’ she asked the girl.
Sage’s eyes darted around the people near them. “You’re eating like a wild animal.”
Nowen quirked an eyebrow. “So?”
“Well, there are other people here. What if they see you?”
Nowen set her plate on the ground. “Sage, why should I care if someone sees me eating?”
“It’s just...you know, people...regular people don’t act-” Sage stood abruptly, the plate of doughnuts clutched tightly in her hands. “Never mind. I’m going to get something to drink.” The girl stomped off and was quickly submerged in the crowd.
What the hell was that all about? The look on Sage’s face swam before her eyes. Is she...embarrassed by me? Nowen sensed someone standing behind her. A heavy hand fell to her shoulder. “Teenagers, huh?” Harmony said. “I had two of them, before the Flux. Is she yours?” And how to answer that? In one way, we’re bound by blood, closer than anyone could know. In another, she’s as distant as a star. Nowen settled for the truth. “I found her last year. Her parents had died, so I took her with me.”
“Awful nice of you. Not too many folks would do that nowadays. Now, if you’re through with your meal - and I’d say you are! - someone wants to meet you.” Nowen rose from her chair and turned to Harmony. The other woman had to look up to meet her eyes. “Who wants to meet me?” Nowen asked.
“Dempsey. He’s the leader of our happy group.”
Nowen followed the woman through the crowd. It was hard to get an idea of how many people were here in the fort; the mass was fluid and ever-changing. Laughter and singing were everywhere and growing louder, and Nowen’s unease at the noise was growing along with it. The knowledge of the Revs out there in the dark, being pulled toward the light, was putting her on edge. Harmony says they’re safe here. How long will they stay safe if they willfully attract trouble?
Sage’s giggling caught her attention. She paused on the edge of a ring of people. In the middle of the ring, swirling around a small bonfire, was a smaller ring. Nowen watched them; they were all young, either children or teenagers, and across the fire she saw a glimpse of russet curls. Sage was in the smaller ring, holding hands with a little girl on one side and a tall, dark-skinned young man on the other. Sage’s eyes were locked with his, and as they swept past in the unending circle Nowen felt a strange sense of loss. Harmony spoke from behind her. “That’s Benjamin, Samson’s boy. Don’t worry, he’s a nice young fellow.” With reluctance Nowen turned her back on the dancers and followed the other woman.
Away from the brilliant light of the bonfire Nowen was able to make
out more of her surroundings. Campers, metal sheds, large tents, and what looked like the beginnings of small houses or huts resolved from the darkness. Row after neat row of this mish-mash of buildings marched off into the night. Harmony swung around a group of men surrounding two other men who were either fighting or wrestling and, as Nowen did the same, she heard the urgent whispers of bets being made. Another fire pit appeared and it was to this that Harmony marched. More people were here, some passing around cups of a dark liquid that Nowen could smell while still several feet away. She wrinkled her nose at the foul odor, and then a flash of gunmetal grey hair caught her eye. Everett was standing near the fire, a cup in one hand, engaged in what looked like an earnest discussion with a very wide man. Harmony nudged her in the side. “That’s Dempsey. Cute, ain’t he?”
Nowen took in the solid shape of the man in a bright red flannel shirt under faded blue overalls. His face was florid beneath a wild crown of black hair, his eyes swallowed by his round, plump cheeks, and the lower half of his face was hidden beneath a thick beard that ran halfway down his chest. Dempsey laughed at something Everett said and slapped him on his shoulder. Everett stumbled forward and for a moment Nowen was sure he would fall into the fire pit. However, he caught himself at the edge of the pit and, as he looked up, his copper-colored eye found Nowen. She grinned at the look of desperate hope that he gave her.
“Dempsey!” Harmony shouted. “Here’s the other newcomer!” The big man turned and smiled. His teeth were blindingly white in the midst of the thick black hair of his beard. “Well, hello!” he roared, wiping one massive hand on his overalls before extending it toward Nowen. She shook his hand as quickly as she could and tried not to take a step back. The wolf was awake and Nowen could sense her interest in this bear that walked like a man.
“Welcome to Fort Phil Kearney! You picked the best time to get here, didn’t you?” Dempsey didn’t wait for Nowen to reply. He flung an arm out at the gathering, and she saw the glimpse of metal from something tucked in a side pocket of his overalls. Gun? “Tonight, we celebrate the end of winter! We give thanks to God for bringing us through the cold to live another year under His grace!” He laughed and drained the mug he held, dark amber drops soaking his beard as he did.
“Isn’t this dangerous?” Nowen shouted above the noise of the crowd.
Dempsey looked at her, the humor draining from his face as fast as he’d drained his cup. “Probably. We know the undead are out there. We know the thieves, the liars, and the unclean are out there, maybe even watching us right now and plotting against us.” His voice was low and serious.
“Then why do this?”
For a moment there was only a deep silence from the big man. Then the laughter exploded from him again and this time she did take a step back. “Why not?! We live so we celebrate! God has led us through the dark depths of winter and so now we show Him our gratitude!”
Nowen frowned and glanced over at Everett. The look he gave her in return was wary. Another man came up to Dempsey and whispered in his ear. The big man turned without a word and followed him into the semi-darkness of the fort. Harmony leaned in, motioning for Everett to come closer.
“Don’t take Dempsey wrong. We’re all concerned with all the troubles that this world throws at us, but we’ve earned this night of happiness. Now!” and Harmony clapped her hands as if to drive away Nowen’s concerns. “You three are free to spend the night. We’re a little crowded here, but the fires will be going all night and you can bunk down by them. You need a blanket or something?”
Everett shook his head. “No thanks, we got some of our own.”
Harmony smiled. “Well then, you just enjoy the party, and in the morning you can talk to Dempsey about staying, if you want.” She turned, her long braid flying through the air, and headed in the same direction as Dempsey.
Nowen watched her go. “We should follow them and see what’s going on.”
Everett gave her a look. “No, we should go get comfortable next to one of the fires.”
“I’d prefer to be sure that it’s safe.”
Everett walked up next to her. “It’s safe. Look at all of these people - see how many are holding guns?” For the first time Nowen noticed that almost all of the adults were armed. “You saw the fence and the towers when we came in, same as I did. I talked a little to the big guy before you came over; the fence circle the fort and the towers are all manned. We’re safe from the Revs, Nowen.”
Now it was her turn to stare at him. “It’s not the Revs I’m worried about. It’s the people here. How do we know they’re safe? How do we know they don’t have something planned?”
The grey-haired man looked dumbfounded. “I-I don’t know.”
“Exactly.” She turned away from him and swept her eyes over the crowds. The laughter and shouting was getting louder and she was starting to feel like she was trapped in a box. Or a cage. She raised her eyes to the darkness beyond the fires.
The night would be so quiet and still...
“But Nowen, we can’t be suspicious of everyone. There are good people still out in the world. I prefer to at least give these guys the benefit of the doubt and assume they’re ok. Sometimes, you just have to go on trust.”
Nowen turned her head and looked at Everett. In the wash of firelight his grey hair was almost the same shade of copper as his eye. Someone else asked me to trust him, too. Bone-deep memories of pain and fear rose through her skin like burns. “I’ve tried that. Trusting strangers never seems to work out all that well for me.”
Everett looked away from her for a brief moment as if what he saw in her face was too much to bear. “You trust me.” he said after a few seconds silence, glancing at her from underneath a fall of grey hair.
Now it was Nowen’s turn to stand in silence. Do I? “I don’t know how much I trust you. Trust is dangerous.” She looked back over the crowd of people, all of them strangers to her, all of them unknowns that could turn on her in a matter of seconds. “I’m going to go find Sage, if you want to come along.” she said, and as she started to navigate the crowd Everett moved up next to her; she found herself suddenly wrestling with an unwanted feeling of companionship.
Even on the edges of the gathering Nowen felt hemmed in. The stale scent of sweat and unwashed bodies mixed with burning wood and meat rose in a miasma that threatened to swallow her. With relief she saw the large fire pit where she had last seen Sage and stumbled free of the crushing crowd. The circling dance was still going on and she searched for the familiar russet curls.
“Want to dance?” Nowen didn’t even deign to answer Everett; tension was roiling her stomach as her search for Sage kept coming up empty. Where is she? I knew it, I knew these people couldn’t be trusted, I knew something would happen- her frantic train of thought was cut off by the sight of the girl on the far side of the fire pit.
Sage stood close to Benjamin, her face upturned to his, and in the flickering light she was someone different, tall and young and happy?; again that strange sense of loss came to Nowen. The girl laughed and laid a hand on Benjamin’s arm. The flames of the pit seemed very bright and Nowen felt her eyes water from the smoke, that’s all.
A girlish giggle drew her attention to Everett. A woman with short-cropped brown hair was dragging him away, and as he joined the woman in the dance he waved once at Nowen. Then the bodies in their endless rings took him in and he was gone.
Nowen turned away from the crowd. The darkness far beyond the fire was so much more appealing, and she walked until the wood-and-wire fence stopped her. She wrapped her hands around the logs, inhaling the scent of night-damp wood. Her thoughts chased each other like an animal gone mad. The press of the people, the way they acted and talked and moved - why was it so strange to her? I have told myself for as long as I’ve known myself that my true identity is not that important. And it hasn’t been. Survival, and life with the wolf, was always better.
Better? She puzzled over the word her brain had thrown out. Better tha
n what? Everett calls me Harper and I say I don’t know that name. But do I? Am I hiding from me? What am I hiding from?
From the depths of her murky thoughts a face arose, beetle-green eyes in an insectile face. Nowen latched on to that face like a hawk to a hare. Vuk. That’s all that matters. I will find him, and kill him, and then...then...
“Well, we’ll just see what comes next.” she said to the night.
Chapter Nine
Thin fingers of ground mist crept through the fort, twining around the rough logs and wire of the fences and the occasional twitching Rev. The sun was just below the horizon, laying early-morning spears of pastel pinks and golds across the translucent blue sky. Even at this hour the soft murmur of voices and the rumble of car engines could be heard, and it was toward these sounds that Nowen made her way.
She slid away from the fire pit where she had spent the night curled up between Sage and Everett. She had joined them while they slept and now she left them sleeping still. There was a bite in the air; Nowen concentrated and, under her clothes, a thick layer of black fur rose from her skin. Her control was better but still not as good as she wanted and it took effort to keep her neck, head, and hands fur-free.
Nowen headed away from the fire pits and the rows of housing, angling toward the fencing that kept the Revs out. The night before had been cold but not freezing and already she could heard the low moans of Revs carrying across the prairie. Between the thawing of spring and the stimulus of the party she could easily imagine hordes of the undead heading her way. Her feet itched to hit the road. Soon. Soon.
The deep tones of Dempsey’s voice drew her toward an absolutely massive motor home. Dempsey was on the far side and she could hear the lower notes of someone else speaking. Nowen glanced around; there seemed to be an exodus of people leaving through the gates but no sense of urgency. Leaving for chores? Or were they visitors? She caught a glimpse of a long blonde ponytail before she heard Harmony’s rolling laugh. The woman was at the gates, talking to some of the people as they left. No one’s attention was pointed this way; Nowen dropped to the ground and crawled under the motor home.
Wolf Hunting (A Wolf in the Land of the Dead Book Book 3) Page 7