by Abby Tyson
The albino girl stiffened, her hand twitching toward her back. The woman's jaw tightened, but her voice revealed no animosity. "You may leave now if you wish, but if you do, you'll be no better than Marcia."
"I'm nothing like her," Savi said with disgust. She looked back at the woman, whose stony expression hadn't wavered. "You don't have to try and guilt me into it."
When the woman still didn't respond, Savi said, "But I'm not even sure how to get my friend out of there, let alone Marcia's special pet."
A pained, wistful smile blew across the woman's face like a gust of wind. "Those with imagination have no need for a plan." She looked at the paper once more before folding it and replacing it in her pocket. "One of Midnight's favorite sayings, and one of the few points on which we disagreed. Let me discuss it with the others alone. Wait here. I'll call you up when it's time." The woman crawled past Savi, somehow graceful on all fours, despite her advanced age.
"What's your name?" Savi asked.
"Ebony. And you?"
"Savi. Savannah. You can call me Savi." Ebony's connection to her father made Savi want to tell her everything about herself.
"Thank you, Savi, for coming to us." Without waiting for a response, she crawled into the tunnel. The girl grabbed the lantern and followed.
"Wait, you're taking that with you?" Savi called. The girl didn't acknowledge her, just disappeared after Ebony. Savi watched the orange light fade until the tunnel held nothing but darkness.
Sitting at the mouth of the tunnel, clutching her knees, Savi forced herself to remain in the cramped cave. Despite the pitch black -- or more likely because of it -- her awareness of the den and her body in it was magnified. Even trying to sit perfectly still, Savi heard the dirt crackling beneath her, felt it giving way under her weight. She strained to identify a faint scratching sound, almost imperceptible over her own quickening breath. She told herself she was imagining it, but the noise spread until the walls were made not of earth but of whispers. The den, once suffocating in its closeness, was now forbidding in its vastness. She was no longer buried in a shrinking coffin, but sitting at the peak of a towering spire of rock. Her fingers drilled into her small patch of dirt, steadying her wavering balance, saving herself from falling over the edge into the abyss.
"Savi!"
Ebony's voice was swallowed by the tunnel, but it was enough to lead Savi back to reality.
"We're ready," called Ebony.
"Okay," Savi whispered. She uprooted one of her hands and found the mouth of the tunnel. "Okay!" she shouted. Leaning into the tunnel, she whispered, "Fear not a bared sky, for its darkness is truth."
The cool dirt stuck to her arms and crumbled onto her neck from above. Her body instinctively recoiled, and she screamed as she fell back into the dark den, the fear of the void still with her.
"Savi? What happened?" Ebony sounded so far away, as if she were a voice from the past.
"I'm fine," Savi shouted back, her voice so thin she wasn't sure it carried. Trying to come up with an excuse, she yelled, "I thought I felt something."
"Do you want me to send Pearl?"
Guessing Pearl was the albino girl, Savi said, "No, I'm fine."
Savi crawled ahead, straining to see some light, searching for something to focus on other than the certainty that the tunnel would collapse around her. Once again she felt the dirt beneath her, above her, beside her. Thinking of Hettie, she managed to crawl forward a few steps, but moving through the small space was awkward, and when her back hit the ceiling, she scrambled backwards yet again.
The dread was too strong. Pearl would have to come down and lead her like a child afraid of the dark.
That rum would come in handy right about now. Her mouth parched at the thought.
"I'm stronger than this," she whispered to the dark. It had been her mantra for most of her life, but now the phrase reminded her of Marley, and gave her no comfort.
Lying flat on her stomach, Savi submerged herself up to her hips. She pressed her hands into her eyes, desperate to feel something other than dirt and panic.
"Think of something else, think of something else."
Her mom's smiling face appeared, and Savi slid forward a few inches. But when both her elbows bumped against the wall, she buried her face in her hands again. Her noisy, wheezing breaths sounded too close, amplifying the sensation of being buried alive. She tried whispering her poem again, but the thought of how far away the sky was didn't help.
"Think of something else," she wheezed, tremors her body's only movement. But no thought came other than the mortifying image of Pearl dragging her out of the den.
I wonder if my dad ever slept in one of these.
The question startled her. She'd never thought of her dad in any context other than with anger or childish yearning. The image of him as a wolf, curled up, sleeping in a den underground, possibly even this same den, was so foreign she felt nothing but a detached curiosity. Dragging herself through the damp earth, Savi held the picture of her father before her.
Eleven. He had been altered at eleven. What was she doing at eleven years old? Sixth grade... she'd just discovered poetry thanks to Mr. Curt the librarian, and that was the year she and Hettie had tied for first place in the science fair and become friends. Had her dad gotten good grades? Probably not, if he was dealing with hiding his new nature from his classmates, teachers, and family.
What was she feeling? Pity? There was certainly nothing to pity in her father, Savi reminded herself, taking comfort from the familiar shield of anger. He wasn't a kid when he left. He could have stayed. He could have at least tried to be a father, werewolf or not. Instead he went off gallivanting -- mating -- with other werewolves. He was only a wolf at night, and a mere 36 nights a year at that. He still could have been a father. Savi's father.
The thoughts of her dad distracted her enough that before she knew it, she could smell fresh air and see grass ahead. A pair of feet moved out of the way as she approached. Savi threw herself out of the tunnel and lay on the ground. She soaked in the light, dim as it was, and struggled to keep her eyes open. She never wanted to close them again.
"Are you crying?" a snide voice asked.
Savi wiped her cheeks. "I didn't know," she said, rubbing her tears between her fingers as she stood.
"Savi," Ebony said. Amber, the snide voice, was standing beside her. "Pearl will fill you in on the plan while escorting you back to the barn."
Ebony gestured to the albino girl, who towered over Ebony and Amber. Pearl was smiling for the first time since Savi had met her. It was a sweet smile, but Savi couldn't help wondering why she hadn't seen it until now.
"There is your bag," said Ebony, pointing beside the entrance to the den. Bowing her head, she said, "Good luck," and turned to walk away.
"Thanks, but --" Savi waited until Ebony turned around. "Can I ask you something?"
Ebony's smile was not as sweet. She appeared somehow both older and younger in the evening light. The lines in her face were deeper, like gorges running across an ocean floor. But her eyes shone brighter, even the clouded one, with a vigor that made Savi wonder what her age was. "Of course. You are our savior."
Savi flinched at the same label that Marcia had used. "Why do you rob humans?"
Amber rolled her eyes, but Ebony took a step towards Savi. "We have many here who are near their end, as I am. Some medicines do help with the pain, but we are unable to afford enough of them without assistance."
"You don't have health insurance?"
Savi couldn't tell if the twitch of Ebony's mouth was suppressing a smile or a sneer. "Our condition is beyond humanity's understanding."
Although she wanted to argue that Amber could at least lay off the sadism during her criminal escapades, Savi decided that was an argument she couldn't win. Bowing again, Ebony walked away with Amber by her side.
Pearl bent over and grabbed Savi's pack. "Wait here while I gather a few supplies," she said, her low voice was much more cheerful
than Savi had expected, with the hint of a German accent. Savi chugged her bottle of water and sat down as Pearl walked away.
The burrow opened onto the side of a wooded hill. There were a few people talking nearby, casting both furtive and blatant glances at her, but most were in a field at the bottom of the hill playing football. Savi recognized the ball as the large rainbow-striped rock that had fallen near her just hours before. She watched the werewolves -- the ona -- play football, wincing every time the ball thumped against someone's chest. She had just finished her sandwich when Pearl came back with two men.
"They'll be coming with us," Pearl said.
"Hey," Savi said with a wave. Both men nodded, but neither said anything.
"This way," said Pearl.
As she turned to follow, Savi noticed Amber standing against a tree, watching them. She was too far for Savi to distinguish her expression, but even after the werewolf camp was well behind them, the chill of that stare lingered.
Chapter Nineteen
"This isn't going to work." Savi stopped walking.
"Why?" asked Pearl, moving ahead.
"Because they won't believe it."
From behind, Pearl could have been mistaken for a grandmother, with her long white hair in a low ponytail, and wearing her billowing beige linen tunic and matching pants. "You have to make them believe it."
Pearl had turned out to be rather friendly. If she hadn't threatened to slit Savi's throat, not to mention witnessed her being strangled, Savi would have found it easy to like her.
Staying where she was, Savi said, "But pretending I want to be an Alter? The idea of being in the same room with these people makes me sick. I'm not that good a liar."
"How else are you supposed to get to the torra?" Pearl walked backwards a few paces, facing Savi.
"I was hoping more for a run in, run out kind of job." Savi resumed her hike. "If Hettie's outside, maybe I can get her attention, and she can bring the human silver wolf over. Then we can explain everything, and he'll come with us willingly."
"You find that likely?"
"It's possible," said Savi, though without much confidence. "But won't I smell like you guys?"
"That's why you're waiting until after sunset to approach, so all of the ona will be inside and in wolf form. But it's possible that Marcia's Alters may recognize one of us, so we'll stay hidden in the woods, watching for your signal."
"And you'll tranquilize all three? You guys will be able to carry the wolves?"
Pearl patted the holster on her hip. "I've got plenty of darts, just in case. And they," she nodded toward the two keepers walking silently ahead of them, wearing beige outfits identical to Pearl's, "know what to do."
Savi tried to come up with more objections, but could only think of questions. "How are you going to turn the werewolves --"
"The ona."
"Right, the ona, back into humans with the silver wolf?"
"The torra," Pearl corrected. "The rebirth ceremony is complicated. Ebony described it to me, but I'd rather not get into it right now." Her accent was subtle, without the hard glottal stops and missing "r" that typified a German accent. But inside every "th" was a soft "d" that gave her away.
"So are you from Germany?" Savi knew the question could be construed as rude, but this girl had held a knife to her throat, so normal social constraints were already out the window.
"Nein," Pearl said with a grin. Her teeth were as white as her face. "I grew up in Kansas."
"Kansas?"
"My parents were from Germany, and my father spoke nothing but German to me."
"There were some kids from a Syrian family in my school," said Savi. "Neither of their parents spoke much English, but they didn't have any accent at all."
"My father homeschooled me until tenth grade. I didn't spend much time with American kids." The bitterness was subtle, but Savi heard it.
"That's a sucky time to jump into public school," said Savi.
Pearl kept her eyes on the ground, avoiding the roots, rocks, and other trip hazards. After several steps she simply said, "Yeah."
Savi thought about how Pearl would have been received at her own high school. Providing her predilection for violence wasn't present at the time, a tall albino with a German accent definitely would have earned some gawking and titters at first, but in time the novelty would wear off and she'd have found her place and a group of friends.
"When did you graduate?" asked Savi.
"Seven years ago."
"Did you go to college?"
"Nein," Pearl said.
"How come?" Savi tried to keep the effort of matching pace with Pearl out of her voice while they climbed a steep hill.
"I didn't want to be around people like that anymore."
"Right?" Seeing Pearl's confusion, Savi elaborated. "Every high school is full of people who are either too mean or too scared. And for some reason everyone thinks college is this amazing thing, when it's just a place for those same people to meet more mean and scared people."
Pearl shot an arched eyebrow at Savi, but said nothing. Savi felt heat rising to her cheeks for getting so riled up and muttered, "I didn't have a great high school experience either."
Looking at the still cloudy sky, Pearl said, "I'm doubting it was as bad as mine."
Savi gave a mirthless laugh that could have easily been mistaken for a pant. "Let's see, I lost all but one of my friends, there were so many rumors about me and my family I couldn't keep track of them all, I almost didn't graduate because my grades tanked, everyone thought I backstabbed the most popular girl when it was really her boyfriend's fault, I was locked in a janitor's closet the Friday before Christmas break and puked on everything because of the smell, shall I continue? Oh -- I became an alcoholic..."
They had both stopped walking, standing near the crest of the hill. Savi, panting heavily, welcomed the rest. Pearl stared down at her, not even breaking a sweat despite her long sleeves and pants. Her searching expression made Savi regret opening up to her. It had been easier when they weren't looking at each other.
"Same," Pearl said, "but different." She turned back to face the hill and started walking again. "What did the boyfriend do?" she asked over her shoulder.
Savi stayed, watching Pearl disappear over the hill as the memory played in her mind.
Savi sits on the floor with a group of new friends. A clear glass bottle spins at the center of their circle.
"It better not land on me again," a girl says, breaking the thick silence, her laugh heavy with wanting.
The bottle, naked except for a single claw mark of white, stops, resulting in a cacophony of squeals and shouts. Savi's stomach does a funny flutter and flop as she looks across the circle at Eric. His grimace is more convincing than hers.
On all fours they crawl, meeting above the bottle. Savi catches Tara's eye, mutely seeking permission. Tara shrugs, giving it.
Watching Eric's lips move towards her, any enjoyment she may have hoped for is absent as a thousand different humiliating scenarios play through her mind. But Eric is as practiced as Savi is amateur, and the pressure on her closed lips is already gone and he's halfway back to his spot beside Tara by the time Savi opens her eyes. Savi hastily spins, taking a drink from her own bottle, and the moment is forgotten by everyone except her.
As the night wears on, Savi loses herself to it, shedding the cloak of caution that her new friends find both fascinating and repellent.
Everyone is outside except Savi. Lips find her ear and whisper, "Meet me upstairs."
The voice is familiar, but its owner is gone by the time she turns. Savi's body is in control, and she follows it up the mountain of stairs. The hallway is full of doors, all the rooms empty.
Behind the last door in a dark room is Eric. He pulls her to him, pressing her body against the door with hot lips and hot hands.
This is what she's wanted. This is what every girl wants.
But she asks the question that must be asked. "What about Tara
?" Her lips are sealed with his.
Keeping his body against hers, he herds her toward the bed. Even in her hazy mind, Savi recognizes the triumph in this moment. She's spent the past 19 months running, weighing her food, and counting calories. Now she's skinny, hanging with the cool kids, and making out with Eric Striker. She only wishes she could feel more of it.
"Don't lose yourself."
Her mother's voice.
Savi's head snaps up from the pillow. "What?" She searches the room.
Eric freezes, his hands on her almost naked back. "What?"
"I thought I heard something."
He tilts his head, then looks back down at her lacy bra. His hands slide down her sides. "We better be quick then."
She wants him. She wants to let him finish what he started.
But not like this.
"Wait." Her hands cover his at the top of her jeans, but his fingers keep working. "Stop."
"Why?" He seals her mouth once again, but this time it smothers her fire instead of feeds it. Her jeans are sliding past her hips.
"Eric, stop. We can take it slow."
He snorts into her neck, the sound as unattractive as the feeling of spit on her skin. "Don't be a tease. You know we don't have that kind of time."
The sound of another zipper is like thunder cracking through the room.
"No, I don't want to do this."
Another snort. His jeans scrape against her legs as they join hers at their ankles. His hands are back at her hips.
"What the hell, Eric!"
Savi thinks she said it, until she realizes that he's hovering above her, his body suspended in time, staring at the door. As if trapped with him, Savi can only stare at Eric. The invasive yellow light glaring from above reveals his crimson face and open mouth. This can't be Eric Striker. This gaping, sweaty, petrified oaf can't be THE Eric Striker.
Shoving him off, Savi stands as she pulls up her jeans, unable to meet Tara's eye. Grabbing her shirt she rushes past Tara with a tearful "I'm sorry," and runs out of the house.