Seasons of Wither (The Great North Woods Pack Book 3)

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Seasons of Wither (The Great North Woods Pack Book 3) Page 4

by Shawn Underhill


  “It’s been terrible, terrible!” Amy sobbed into her shoulder. “Everything has gone wrong. We couldn’t find you. Then we saw your house. Then we saw your mom emptying the house and we were so worried. We took off driving and then everything went to pieces. It’s been a thousand mile disaster. I lost my contacts in Virginia, had some crazy allergy attack in Pennsylvania, and now I can’t see a thing. It’s been the blonde leading the blind for the past two days!”

  “Ingrate,” Jessie muttered in the background.

  “We were lost in New York on some road with no houses for thirty miles,” Amy rambled. “Then we were in Vermont. Phone maps led us nowhere. And that’s when the phones worked at all. It’s so dark up here at night!”

  “Velma’s got a good point there,” Jessie said. “Why don’t you people stripe the roads brighter? You can’t see to save your life at night. You can’t even tell a road from a driveway from a lake.”

  “Velma?” Matthew repeated. “You don’t mean from Scooby-Doo?”

  “That’s right. Velma Dinkley. Smart as can be but useless without—”

  “Stop calling me Velma!” Amy roared as she spun and faced David. She was mistaking his white T-shirt for Jessie’s platinum hair.

  “Don’t yell at me,” he said.

  “Jess,” Evie said calmly as she took hold of Amy. “Be nice.”

  “She almost drove us into a lake!” Amy blurted. “She knows I don’t swim.”

  “It was a nice smooth road,” Jessie responded sternly. “And once I realized that it was a boat launch, I stopped.”

  “The bumper was in the water!”

  “Why are you throwing that in my face now? I got us here, didn’t I?”

  “Did she say a boat launch?” Matthew asked David, which then caused David, who had been struggling to keep quiet, to bust out laughing.

  Evie glared over at him, marveling at how quickly his mood had changed. With her eyes she warned him sternly to stop. The humans might seem absurd to him, but they were her absurd humans—her oldest friends.

  “What exactly were you trying to do?” Evie asked. She looked over at the smoking car and then back at the two girls. “I can’t figure how you’d even attempt coming way up here.”

  “We were trying to find you,” Amy answered. “We couldn’t believe that you’d just disappear like that.”

  “Miss Janie was acting pretty sketchy,” Jessie added. “She and some other lady were just giving all your stuff away to perfect strangers. We didn’t know but some Lifetime tragedy was taking place or what else.”

  “That other lady is my mom,” Matthew said.

  “Is it really?” Jessie smiled up at him.

  “Really.”

  “Well, I can’t honestly say I know her. Miss Janie was the sketchy one. Known her all my life and then, bam, she loses it and—”

  “All right, stop!” Evie said. The beginning of a stress headache was tightening her forehead. “I’m supposed to be helping my cousin run the diner right now and it is lunchtime crazy over there. I’m sorry but I don’t have time to explain everything at the moment. For now everyone needs to calm down, and after work, I’ll try to explain as best I can.”

  “But we have nowhere to go,” Amy said, clinging to Evie’s side. “We’re almost out of money. I’m so hungry.”

  David noticed that he was suddenly in the mood to watch Dumb & Dumber. “There’s a beautiful resort a few miles up the road,” he suggested.

  “Oh I wish,” Jessie said. “You know my daddy shut my credit card off after my first day of being gone. Can you believe that?”

  “Let me guess,” Evie said. “You didn’t bother telling him what you were doing.”

  “Are you crazy, girl? He’d never allow any of this. Why do you think we were in her crappy car instead of my Bim? He can track that thing right from his cell.”

  “You like German cars, eh?” Matthew said.

  Before Jess could reply, Evie said, “So your parents have no clue where you are?”

  “No,” Amy admitted.

  “Okay, I just can’t deal with all this right now,” Evie said. “Matthew, I need you to get their luggage and take them to Gram and Papa’s house. Get them settled in my room. David, take their car over to Lenny at the truck bay. If he can’t fix it, no one can. And—”

  “We’re supposed to be finishing the hay today,” Matthew said. “We were just here at the store on lunch break.”

  “It’s not gonna rain tonight,” Evie said in a tone that set big Matthew back on his heels. “If Uncle Paul or Lester or Earl get upset, just tell them to come see me about it. Okay?”

  To that Evie encountered no protests. Matthew crossed his arms. David put his hands in his pockets. Evie drew the two girls a few steps away.

  “Amy, Jess,” she said in a softer tone. “Both of you please try to relax and stop fighting with each other. I can see that it’s been a stressful few days, but it’s over now. We’ll get everything straightened out once I get out of work. For now, go get showered and into some clean clothes and chill out. My Gram will have more food than you can possibly eat.” She glanced around from face to face. “Okay?”

  “Did you see her handle all four of us at once?” Matthew said to David. “That’s why she’s Grandpa’s pride and joy.”

  While David transferred the girls’ luggage from the car to Matthew’s truck, Evie took Matthew aside. “I’ll call gram and warn her,” she said. “She won’t be thrilled but there’s nothing else I can do.”

  “Right,” Matthew nodded.

  “And one more thing,” she said under her breath. “Don’t let me catch you hitting on my friend. Got it?”

  “Me?”

  “You.”

  “What if she starts it?”

  “Then you stop it. I’ve got enough to deal with as it is. Understood?”

  “All right,” he sighed. “I’ll be good.”

  ***

  Across the parking lot Lars watched the five of them standing before the store. He couldn’t make out the conversation, but he could read the scene well enough to see that it wasn’t good. More outsiders, he thought. The old man has been tense enough as it is. This sure won’t help any.

  He climbed into his loaner pickup truck—an old one retired from the supply store fleet. The keys were in the ignition, right where he’d left them. He’d never lived in a place where one could leave the keys in the ignition while one ate his free lunch and drank his free coffee. Ludlow had its dangers for a man such as himself—an outsider employing his expertise in service to the elders, and therefore the entire pack, which didn’t completely understand his position, didn’t entirely trust or welcome his presence. But aside from that, the little town also had its simple charms, its simple pleasures. And he’d never been anywhere in the world with such a spectacular autumn season.

  The old truck rumbled to life and Lars pulled out into the road, heading for the big farm. For two weeks now he’d met every second or third day with Joseph Ludlow. Still it made his heart beat strangely to turn up that drive and wind through the woods to that well-guarded farm. One making a living such as his learns early to trust one’s gut feelings, and those feelings told him repeatedly that Joseph Ludlow’s domain was a deceptive place: beautiful to the eye, but deep and dangerous as an old abandoned well obscured with flowers and vines. And it was unmistakably old-feeling—like a colonial house whose creaking floorboards whisper of long-held secrets, whose dark attics obscure hidden dangers. That alone leant an eerie feeling to the place.

  Turning into the drive, Lars noticed his mind taking him over the same old topic again. If just one of these wolves gave in to their animalistic instinct of self-defense—just a momentary temper fit as that young one, David, had almost had—his life would end terribly, swiftly. He understood this risk clearly because he also understood the impulses of learned instincts—the etiquette of the uncivilized world. Those posers back at the diner hadn’t a clue, but Lars did.

  Perh
aps that was part of the thrill of being in the old man’s service. Animals thrive on instinct, as few humans still understand in modern times. To be near one of these wolves, even in human form, was to sense those ancient instincts at work, as one smells the sea even before it is in view and gets an idea of its immensity. Or, like the sea—as he’d looked out over it from the balcony of his former home before a storm—perhaps it was simply being witness to the blending of raw power and beauty that impressed him so. Such strength arouses something even within onlookers, like iron sharpening iron.

  “That’s enough,” he said aloud to break the train of thought. Get it together. You know you can’t let them sense your nerves. And you’re sure not in their league, no matter how much you’d like to be. Not even close.

  It had been almost two weeks to the day. Two weeks wasn’t long, Lars knew, but it was longer than it had ever taken him to acclimatize himself to new surroundings. In Ludlow he felt that unuttered threat, that vulnerability, all day and all night to varying degrees. Every time he was near one of the pack members, he felt it clearly. Whether he was gassing up the truck, zipping into his sleeping bag at night or sipping his coffee at the diner, he felt it as sure as anything he’d known in his lifetime. But he felt it most powerfully when he neared the old farm—most of all when he was ushered in through the front door. Here was the hub of their isolated world—not the main street and the fronts of the businesses that the tourists saw in passing. The old man was the heart of it all. He was, in a way, everything to everyone. If one understood just who he was, it was only right to feel some nerves in his presence.

  “Hell,” he exhaled as the big house came into view on the hill. I can’t blame them. If half of what the old man says is true—that they’ve been hunted as much or more than any trophy animal in the world—they’ve got good reason behind their grudge toward men such as myself. Damn good reason. My presence is bound to set off all their internal alarms.

  Before the house he cut the engine and stepped out of the truck. As he closed the door he smiled at the remembrance of Evie’s humorously disguised hostility at the diner—with the coffee, before the near fight. If he and Ed were both drowning, he knew surely which one of them would get a life vest tossed in their direction first.

  Lars laughed lightly under his breath. It was the perfect mood to approach the house with. I don’t blame her, he thought. If I was her, I guess I wouldn’t like me much either.

  He looked at the big oak farmhouse for a moment before starting for the door. He knew they were aware of his arrival. Whether they could see him or not, they knew he was there. But I sure like them, he thought, even if they do scare me a little. Even if they hate me and one of them eventually gets me, I respect and admire them all the same. Especially the old man. I’ve never met anyone half as fascinating.

  ~3~

  Abel’s steps fell with remarkable softness. Though he far outweighed even the largest and oldest black bears inhabiting the North Woods, he moved as silently as a snake slithering through the heavy forest.

  “What?” Erica asked with a low sound. After following her great uncle for days, she’d grown accustomed to his sudden changes of mood, most often brought on by some subtle change in their surroundings—a tiny sound, a wisp of a curious scent on the air. Quite suddenly he had slowed his pace, directing his full attention to something unknown and unseen to her.

  “Quiet,” the old wolf answered. “Though men at large are fools and blunderers, it is unwise to allow one warning of your presence in the light of day. Learn that now, the easy way. Or you will learn it by pain and blood.”

  The word men brought on an unintentional growl, more felt than heard, deep in her gut. “Men? Here?”

  “We are upon yet another wilderness preserve,” he said. “As with the Allagash Wilderness, so too is this smaller lake a destination for campers. By the air they are brought in by outfitters for a taste of the pristine lands.”

  “Like Grandpa’s water plane?”

  “The same,” Abel said with a grunt hinting of scorn. By now he was as still as a statue, pointing with his great dark head. His nose worked thoroughly, reading the story carried on the light breeze.

  Erica swung her head back in the direction from which they had come. She hadn’t the bearings of her great uncle, and therefore could not shake the human feeling of being lost. She knew they were pushing northeast; she could guess where they would eventually end up. But after endless days of restless travel with little food, for the first time she was beginning to miss the familiarity of Ludlow—the comfort of home.

  They had traveled by snowmobile trails and logging roads whenever possible. Power lines also were used when available, but those tended to peter out the farther east they moved. Skirting countless lakes and ponds, crossing streams and swamplands, they pressed on with little rest through countryside rarely seen with human eyes. By skirting the known hiking trails and parks—which weren’t terribly overrun with humans, but enough so to warrant caution—they moved in a zigzag pattern through the wilderness, avoiding all human contact along the way. Then, early one morning—she could not remember how many days ago now—they stepped out of the shadowy timber onto a ridgeline overlooking a string of tall mountains.

  “That is Katahdin,” Abel had said of the peak shimmering in the sunrise. The valley below, blazing with foliage, was dark and dewy. A heavy frost sparkled under the sun’s first rays. “The end of the Appalachian Trail,” he informed her. “From here on are the oldest forests, touched least by men.”

  This, after days of seemingly urgent travel, had appeared to be a milestone to the old wolf, although she didn’t understand why. All she knew for certain was that his mood seemed to change noticeably from that moment on. No longer pressing as if to make good time, he walked slower and used his nose more frequently—almost as if he was enjoying himself. From there they had turned south, skirting the mountains, and Erica had assumed they might stop and rest once beyond the park. But then they had turned northeast yet again, continuing on what seemed to be an endless journey.

  She dared not ask. The old Snow was not one to patiently endure questioning from anyone, let alone a teenager. He spoke when he felt like speaking, ran when he felt like running, rested when he felt the need, and in general conducted himself as beyond reproach. It was better, Erica had quickly learned, to spend her energy not in questioning but in keeping up with him.

  Of course, even that simple lesson she had not learned with ease.

  On either the second or third day after their departure from Ludlow, she had questioned him about something foolish. The old brute had lunged at her, slashing her shoulder to the bone as a reward for her insubordination. For hours after that she’d limped while the wound healed, ever mindful of the fact that, in a fit, she’d done the same thing to Evie just days before.

  ***

  Now, at last, they were standing still in the heavy timber beyond the mountains. Being stationary, the young wolf found that she could scent the air with greater concentration. If she wasn’t mistaken, there was something behind them as well as before them. The wood smoke and man scent was clear to her now, but the scent behind her she could not immediately identify. She said nothing of it and went on testing the lightly-moving air, wanting to be absolutely sure before she dared bring it up.

  “Behind us is nothing,” Abel said after some time. “Mere stragglers, hungry like yourself. Pay them no mind.”

  “What?” she said as she faced him again. To be in the presence of an animal that outclassed her in every way was humbling, but inspiring at the same time. He could not read her thoughts directly, yet he seemed to know or understand everything of significance that passed through her mind.

  “Coyotes,” he said. “Harmless little scavengers. It is common for them to shadow us, to await a large kill and then reap the leftovers. Ignore them, for they are no threat to us. Nor are they friends of men. So let them be.”

  “How long have you known?” she asked.
/>
  “For as long as they’ve followed.”

  Erica’s mind moved quickly from the mystery to the fact that her insides felt hollow. She had learned to fish, per Abel’s instructions, and had eaten many of the disagreeable little creatures at odd times as they traveled. Once—she’d lost track of exactly how many days ago now—Abel had taken down a large buck, allotting the smaller half of it to her. Since then, however, they’d had no large game. The old wolf seemed unfazed by lack of food. But as for her, though still getting accustomed to the idea of eating raw meat still trembling with a pulse, she was hungrier than she’d ever been in her life.

  ***

  Minutes passed before Abel began creeping forward. His crest bristled along his shoulders and back; his tail flicked in slow, stiff snaps. The young wolf followed, mimicking his posture and silent, creeping steps to the best of her ability.

  “They have killed a deer out of season,” he uttered at last. “At the least they are armed with bows, but probably rifles. Only fishing is allowed in this forest.”

  “Shouldn’t we keep wide of them?” Erica asked. They were creeping closer to the culprits.

  “To avoid them, yes. But that is not my aim. From a distance you will watch and learn as I reward their misdeeds. Their unlawful prize will be mine. Then, we and our small friends at our backs will eat well and rest, while these men suffer the uncertainties of the darkness beyond their fire, and hours without sleep.”

  “How?” Erica asked. She felt suddenly invigorated at the idea of tormenting armed men. “I can help.”

  “Are you suggesting,” Abel said with a sharp turn of his head, “that I require your assistance?”

  “No,” she answered humbly, but then something more rose out of her. “But I can best learn by action.”

  The old one stared at her for a long moment. Gradually, she lowered her head and tucked her tail under his gaze.

  “Do you know how a bullet feels as it sears through flesh and organs?” he asked at last.

 

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