Come With Me

As if sensing my unease, Wolf merely nodded.

Words failed me for the longest while. How easy did he think it would be for me to just up and leave my home? Did he honestly think I'd just disappear into the night with him?

Without saying goodbye to my family, to my mom?

Without so much as a note—just up and go, leaving everyone to wonder where I'd gone?

In those few seconds, I wasn't even sure I wanted to go. It would have been easier if I'd vanished with the rest of the victims that night. They would have assumed me dead.

At that time, I'd been ready to go, anyway. I'd been ready to avoid coming home and dealing with everything.

Avoid that awful press conference. Avoid that horrible memorial in the woods and the therapy sessions and the interrogations and Dad's contempt, Mom's worry, Kristie's hate—

All of it. I could have avoided all of it if the military hadn't rescued me—

Now, though, I was dealing with it. I was back home with my loved ones and I was expected to return to school as soon as my therapist cleared me.

Everyone knew I was alive. Everyone. They would miss me if I went away. They would wonder and investigate.

They'd grieve again.

Not to mention that I was basically crippled. Not totally incapable of moving, but I would never have the same range of motion that I used to.

How would I be of any use to someone who made a living hunting and killing strange, exotic creatures?

And humans.

"Wolf. . . ." I trailed off and wrapped my arms around myself to stop the trembling from starting up. "I—I won't heal completely. My legs aren't going to be as strong as they used to be. I—I don't know that I can keep up with you anymore."

His scrutiny angled toward my legs and he chittered what I thought was a dismissal, but I couldn't be sure.

I closed my eyes and rubbed my forehead to relieve some of the stress.

"I can't understand you, you know. How is this going to work if I can't understand you? Will you even be able to teach me your language?"

He nodded and I sighed. "Right. Stupid question."

At this point, I was aware I was grasping at straws and coming up with any excuse I could.

Leaving home was a scary thought.

The idea had been terrifying out in the woods, and it even more so now. I was safe here. Maybe not happy, but safe. Who knew if I'd be happy out in the middle of the universe with an alien.

I could maybe learn to be happy, but I could do that here, too.

Where I wasn't going to be some alien novelty.

Where we had the internet and fast food and showers and indoor plumbing. In a world on a planet that I knew well, with tons of luxuries that I was going to miss once I didn't have them.

However awful it made me feel to admit it to myself.

If he didn't think my legs were going to be an issue . . . did that mean he could possibly fix them? It seemed too good to be true, and I was too afraid to be hopeful.

"You really . . . want me to come with you?" I asked, still baffled.

I'd had myself convinced that he was gone, that his intention had always been to return me to my own kind.

Wolf leaned in and took my wrist in his hand, using the other one to tap a long claw against the scar sitting there. I brushed my own fingers against it.

I hadn't forgotten about it, even if it was one of many scars. The ugliest being the one on my shoulder blade: the acid burn. I would always have the surgical marks on my legs, as well.

/No man will want me now,/ I thought bitterly. It had been bugging me for a lot longer than I cared to admit and looking at myself in the mirror was unpleasant.

"This scar . . . ," I muttered, "what is it for? Did you claim me like property?"

His answer was in the negative.

After thinking about it for another moment, I asked, "So what is it for?"

I didn't expect an answer because he couldn't answer with 'yes' or 'no'. Before I could think of a way to reword it, though, he spoke.

"One of us," he said in broken, deep English.

My mouth opened and closed, but I couldn't find the words. I ended up just staring at the scar on my wrist, the strange rune that matched his.

"Do I have a choice or will you take me by force?" I asked quietly, not looking at him.

Wolf canted his head and waited. It took me a few seconds to figure out that it was his answer. I had a choice. He wasn't going to make me do anything I didn't want to.

If he was, he probably would have scooped me up and abducted me right then.

I didn't know if would have actually preferred that. It might have been nice to have someone else make up my mind for me.

Because I sure as fuck didn't know what I wanted.

Stay and live a normal life devoid of any of the friends I used to have, of the sport that was my life, and people who would always tip-toe around me? Get a job . . . pretend I don't know aliens are real.

That they're out there, hunting us.

Or, join Wolf.

There was an appeal to that unknown adventure beckoning to me. It terrified me, too. Was I cut out for living in space? Would-be astronauts had to undergo so much rigorous testing and simulations just to see if they could handle the stress.

Both physically and mentally.

I was strong in neither of those departments. Not right then.

The idea of never seeing Wolf again seemed unappealing, too. I couldn't even put my finger on why—maybe because I had lost so many people as it was. I wasn't ready to let one more go.

"Do I have to decide right now? Can I have some time?" I said at last, breaking the heavy silence.

Just enough time so that I could have a chance to tie up loose ends in my life. I absolutely could not disappear from my bed in the dead of night.

I was NOT doing that to my parents. To Mom.

He shifted his weight and regarded me with curiosity. Then, he nodded.

The relief his understanding gave me was immense. I let out a big breath and managed to force a small smile to my face. When was the last time I'd actually smiled for real?

"Thank you," I said. "How much time can you give me?"

Clicking to himself thoughtfully, he looked around as if for a way to answer. Wanting to help, I scrambled out of bed.

I'd hobbled around my room without my crutches a few times, but I'd never been nervous and in a hurry. I stumbled in my haste and tried to catch myself on anything I could.

Wolf was there, though, offering his thick arm as support when I nearly crumpled to the floor. I gladly used his arm to pull myself back up and was somewhat relieved when he didn't take it away.

When I felt steady enough, I let go of his arm and said, "Thanks. I think I got it from here."

He chittered at me and gave me space, allowing me to shuffle-waddled to the far wall where my calendar was mounted and pointed at it.

"Can you see the squares on this?" I asked.

Wolf stared at it, then shook his heads.

/Well fuck./

"That's alright, should have guessed," I sighed, wracking my brain for some way for him to communicate time.

"Okay," I said after a minute, taking a seat on my bed. "Days. That's what we call one rotation of the planet, from sunrise to sunset. Tell me how many days you can give me by number of fingers."

I lifted my hand to demonstrate, counting out my fingers. "One, two, three, four, five. Like that."

Wolf consulted his wrist computer and then raised four fingers.

"So, four days. You're getting picked up by then?"

He nodded.

"Alright. It would be better if we met at night, outside in my backyard . . . Is that ok?" I asked.

It was.

"Will you be okay until then? There are still people investigating the woods, I think."

My question seemed to be amusing to him, but he still humored it and assured me with a gesture that he'd be fine. I supposed that between him and Brutus, they'd be able to handle anything.

Still, it helped put my mind at ease.

Another thing had been bothering me, so before I forgot to, I asked him, "Are there anymore of those things out there?"

Wolf shook his head.

I sighed with relief. If he said it, I could believe it.

Now all I had to worry about was coming to a conclusion on whether or not I went with him.

I had less than a week to figure out what my long-term plans were going to be.

Wolf gestured a farewell before turning toward my closed door, pausing only when I called out for him to wait. He faced me and waited.

"Will you go out the front door again?"

He nodded.

"Okay. Uh, don't worry about my dog, alright? He just doesn't know what you are and wants to protect us," I said, feeling strangely wary, like maybe he or Bruce would try to hurt Atlas.

He nodded and vanished into thin air. It was weird watching my door open and close on its own, even if I knew what was doing it.

When it was shut, I got up and went to listen, my ear pressed against the door. I couldn't hear him walking; the floorboards didn't creak. I just barely heard the front door latch.

All the while, Atlas had started snarling and barking again. His crate rattled and shook, making me wince.

I had to listen to Mom and Dad argue in their room, their voices incoherent and barely audible. One of them came marching downstairs and I took a chance, opening my door to peek out.

The top of Mom's head disappeared down the stairs. She lectured Atlas and let him out; the click of his nails on the tile sounded out as he ran to the front door and carried on, telling Wolf off in the only way he knew how to.

Moments later, Mom came up the stairs, dragging Atlas by the collar. He was whining.

"I'll take him," I said, opening my door more and giving Mom quite a fright.

Atlas was trying to pull off into my room, anyway. Probably because he could smell that Wolf had been in there.

"You scared me, Nichole . . . are you sure you want him? I was going to put him in our room so we could watch him," Mom said.

"Yeah, he'll be fine," I assured her. I couldn't really tell her that the alien who had been upsetting Atlas had left already.

"Alright . . ."

She let him go and he came prowling into my room, his nose to the ground as he followed the trail. Mom and I said our farewells and I closed my door.

"He's gone, boy. You can relax," I cooed, petting his hips as I walked back to my bed.

His nose was buried in the stuffed lion Wolf had picked up and every strand of fur was on edge. When I pet him, I could feel how tense and rigid his muscles were.

"Fine, take a look around. Just don't be so noisy," I huffed, climbing into bed.

Sighing, I leaned back against my pillows and stared up at the ceiling fan spinning above me. Sleep was out of the question now: I had too much to think about. Too much to process.

/How am I going to get my shit sorted out in less than a week?/

I had physical therapy starting soon, several more counseling sessions—only a couple of which would include the agents—and if Ava cleared me, I'd start school . . .

And if I decided to leave, what would I tell my parents? I didn't want them to think I was dead, but I couldn't very well explain that I was leaving forever. Not in any way they would understand.

I was at a loss.

Maybe if I got some sleep I'd be able to think better. Maybe I could find a way to ask Ava for advice.

In any case, I wasn't going to get anywhere on tired brain. I had four days to figure this shit out. Four days before I saw Wolf again, though I'd probably be constantly looking over my shoulder.

Not that I hadn't already been doing that.

Atlas had calmed down at last, having decided the threat was no longer present. He jumped up into my bed and sniffed around a bit, going over every inch of my sheets and myself.

"I know," I sighed. "I smell like alien now."

He flopped over on me, wiggling and nuzzling with light whimpers. I pat his head and gave his snout a couple of kisses before pushing him off me and rolling over into my side.

With my dog snuggled up close, I tried to get some sleep.