Chapter 5: The Storm

Chapter 5: The Storm

A wall of white slammed into the gray streak charging at her. The gray wolf went down hard, and above it, the enormous form of the white wolf let loose a hair-raising snarl. Amanda scrambled to her feet, dashing for the door again. Behind her, the animal noises of a fight broke the calm of the night air.

The same patch of ice she’d originally slipped on tore her feet out from underneath her again. A bizarre and hysterical thought passed through her mind: she was that stupid girl at the start of the horror movie who fell down the stairs and tripped over the carpet before being the first victim of the crazy guy with a chainsaw. The thought was quickly lost as she went spinning down the hillside.

She landed face-first with a painful jolt, the breath completely leaving her lungs. She heaved, trying to breathe, chest on fire. Tears were rapidly freezing on her face, and the harsh sting of the chilled night air stung at her lungs, and she tried to catch her breath.

There was noise to her right. Oh, God, the sounds of the wolves fighting had ceased, and now whichever one had won was coming back to eat her up, just like in Little Red. Why the h*ll had she tried to feed them? She was so stupid, she was going to die on this mountain and no one would even notice until weeks from now when that cute neighbor boy came poking around and found her bones and… and…

Warm breath billowed about her face where she’d buried herself in the snow, trembling arms covering her head. Something nudged her cheek, gently, and quivering, Amanda raised her face to look up.

The white wolf stood before her, red decorating his maw. Despite this, she could not help but feel a momentary flash of relief that it was not the gray wolf that had attacked her. She gulped, certain that this was the calm before the storm, but the wolf did not lunge.

Shaking, she raised her palm up. Wolves were just bigger dogs, right? Maybe if she let him sniff her palm to show she was friendly…

He moved past her outstretched palm, slowly, and then nudged her shoulder with his head. He was huge; his skull was twice the size of her own, and even in his gentle nudge she felt the strength of him. Slowly, Amanda managed to climb to her feet, body aching, still trembling with fear.

The wolf appraised her for a moment. If she didn’t know any better, she would almost have said that he was trying to tell if she was hurt. She took a hesitant step back towards the house, careful of the ice this time, and slowly brushed the snow off of her face and hands.

This seemed to satisfy the white wolf. It took a few steps away and sat on the snow, watching her.

Swallowing loudly, Amanda carefully climbed up the hill and back to the house. She checked over her shoulder every few feet. The wolf followed behind her about a yard back, sitting down to watch whenever she checked on him.

The slight breeze stirred the wolf’s mane, causing him to look almost ghostly. And yet still he watched, still and careful, his golden eyes never leaving her. Amanda made it to the glass door and let herself inside, locking it securely behind her. She watched as the wolf got up and, without another look back, started back out into the woods.

“Holy sh*t,” she breathed.

She had to get herself together or she was going to have a full-on meltdown.

Woodenly, she turned and walked to the master bedroom, where she quickly pulled off her ruined coat and threw it in the corner of the room. She stripped, grimacing at her scraped knees and palms, and then climbed into the shower. The heat did wonders, though it stung at her fresh cuts, and by the time she had climbed into bed with a comfy set of PJs, she almost felt like the entire ordeal had been some insane nightmare.

She closed her eyes for a moment to calm down.

When next she opened them, daylight was streaming through the window. She hadn’t even realized she was falling asleep what felt like only moments before, but she’d had no nightmares of the night before, and she felt somewhat rested.

When she went about her chores that morning, she felt as though she did so in a daze. She barely tasted the eggs she had for breakfast and kept catching herself staring out into nothing. When the time came to check on the well-house, she felt dread rise within her.

This time, she took the gun when she went outside.

She tiptoed from the front door to the well, constantly checking around her for any signs of life. She startled a bird at one point, and when it took flight, she yelped before getting herself back under control.

She checked the well-house quickly. The power strip for the pump wasn’t working.

Demetri had warned her that it was old and would likely need to be replaced soon. She groaned, hanging her head. Of course, this would happen today. All she wanted was to crawl back into bed with a cup of cocoa and try to pretend she hadn’t almost been killed the night before, but no.

And she’d just been in town the previous day, too. Why, oh why, hadn’t she bought a power strip then, just in case? Whatever, she needed a new coat, anyway. Which was another thought she didn’t want to prod at just then, lest she start crying.

By the time she reached town, she was feeling a little bit more like herself. She treated herself to a muffin and coffee at the local cafe, and after seeing a few smiling, carefree faces, she began to relax.

Once she was inside of Gunther’s General Goods, she began to formulate her next steps. The logical choice, of course, would be to call the game warden about the wolf that had attacked her. But then she would have to admit to setting out meat, and she didn’t have the money for a fine. Or she could lie and just say she’d been out in the middle of the night star gazing or something stupid like that. But then he’d ask why the h*ll she wasn’t dead, and she’d have to say that the white wolf had saved her. Which could do one of two things. A: the game warden would laugh in her face and say she better not call in with fairytales again. B: he would also go after the white wolf, who had saved her life.

She realized she’d been staring at the power cords for far too long thinking and shook herself. Why was she being so weird about this?

She grabbed a power cord randomly from the shelf and then moved over to the coats, of which there were only two choices. She ended up in a much-too-big black coat, but it was better than freezing. She grabbed a pair of gloves while she was at it, and then contemplated her scraped-up palms.

Not a dream. That had happened.

She realized she didn’t even have anything to bandage her hands with if it were to happen again. There was no first aid kit in the house, so she grabbed the only one the store carried; a huge plastic box with things she wouldn’t probably ever use, but it felt good to be prepared.

The same girl from the day before was at the counter.

“Rough night?”

Amanda forced a smile. “I’ve had better.”

“You and me both, sis,” she laughed. “I’m so hungover today, it’s not even funny.”

The banality of it made Amanda laugh.

“Pro-tip, if you’re going to get wasted here in town, do not, I repeat, do not order the trailer park margaritas at John’s. They’re great but they will make you wish you were dead by the next day.” She bagged everything up for Amanda with a smile. “Same deal as yesterday, five percent off on household items if you get a mini-can of bear spray.”

Amanda realized her own can was probably buried out in the snow, somewhere. She quickly put a new can down on the counter. Weakly, she said, “Better safe than sorry, right?”

It was starting to snow when she exited the store. She sighed, hoping she would make it back in time to avoid the worst of the incoming storm. She hated driving in bad weather.

“Hey.”

She turned.

A gruff-looking man was standing on the sidewalk in front of the store, hands shoved into his pockets. His beard and hair were starting to gray, and he had a sort of scowl on his face that made it look like he’d smelled something foul. Amanda closed the passenger side door of the truck, bags already tucked away inside and stepped a little closer.

“Yes?”

“You come down off the mountainside?”

She nodded, not sure where he was going with his line of questioning.

“You see any wolves up there?”

Her heart tripped in her chest. Unbidden, she felt herself beginning to sweat. “Um. No.”

His nostrils flared, as though he were smelling her. She stepped back towards the truck, hand resting on the handle of the door. For some reason, this man made her uneasy. She tried to put it off as still being spooked from the attack, but something in her was still telling her to flee.

“Not even that big white one?”

“I’m sorry,” she said, “who are you?”

“Name’s Jeb. Me and a few buddies of mine are looking for him.”

“Him?”

“The white wolf,” he snapped.

She started to open the door. “I’m sorry, I can’t help you.”

He took a few steps towards her. “You’re sure you didn’t see it? Any tracks, nothing? That thing is dangerous, you know. If you’ve seen it, it’s your duty to protect the community by pointing us in the right direction.”

She put a leg up into the truck. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

He grabbed the door, keeping her from closing it. Amanda backed up into the truck, hand unconsciously going down to the pocket of her new coat, but she had yet to put the bear spray inside; it was still in the bag sitting in the passenger seat.

“I’m, uh. I should get going before the storm hits,” she told him, nervously.

He lowered his voice. “I know you’ve seen him. I can smell it on you.”

“Okay…” she drawled. “That’s not a weird thing to say.” She reached out quickly and grabbed the door, yanking it out of his hands. “Goodbye.” She slammed the door closed and quickly turned the engine over, putting the truck into reverse.

Jeb stepped up to her window, raising his voice. “You’re as good as dead with him hanging around, you hear me?”

She quickly turned the radio up to drown out his yells, quickly pulling out of park and swinging out into the main road. She looked up in the rearview mirror and shuddered as he stepped out into the road after her, standing and staring her down as she drove away.

“Well,” she said to herself, trying to calm her nerves. “He’s clearly a well-adjusted adult.”

When she got back to the house, the sun was nearing the horizon, and the storm had started in earnest. She took the gun and braced herself against the wind and snow as she hurried back to the well-house to replace the power cord, and as soon as it was up and running again, dashed back inside.

She wanted to call Leeanne but didn’t know what she would say. She stood nervously at the backdoor with a cup of herbal tea, watching as the snow came down hard. She didn’t know why she watched the backyard–to catch a glimpse of the white wolf again or assure herself that he wasn’t there, she was uncertain. As the sun finally laid itself to rest, the snowstorm evolved into a blizzard, the harsh winds buffeting the house with ice and snow alike. She continued to stare out into the yard, disquieted.

There was a far-off sound of a gunshot in the night. It startled her badly enough that her tea, gone cold by that point, sloshed over the rim of her cup and onto the floor. With a curse, she shook herself of her reverie and hurried to clean it up. She stared back out into the woods again when she was finished, biting her lip.

She didn’t know why, but the gunshot had filled her with a quiet dread.