Walking Wolf Road (Wolf Road Chronicles Book 1) (21 page)

I looked back down to my hands, and swallowed down bile.

What did I do…?

I looked around, and aside from a few splotches of blood and the pool where I was lying; there was no sign anything happened, nothing but my backpack lying about ten feet away. No bodies, no sign of Jack or Malcolm… and no sign of Jacob.

Where was… oh God! Please let him be home!

Near shock, I staggered over and grabbed my bag. My vision distorted as I stumbled the familiar route to my house on autopilot. I crashed through the front door and let my bag slide off my shoulder. My mind focused on only one thing.

“Jacob…” my voice broke, “
Jake!
”

“We’re in the kitchen!” Mom yelled.

I almost fell, and caught myself on the door jamb as I turned toward her voice. I grabbed the doorway as I entered the kitchen to keep myself upright, and despite everything, one thing stood crystal clear. The absolute horror on Jacob’s face as he looked at me and recoiled, my stomach clenched and I thought I would throw up right there on the floor.

What did I do? Please God, don’t let him hate me; I don’t think I could take that. I could survive losing anybody but him…

The room blurred, and before I knew it, I was on the floor and my mother’s face swam in my vision. Time distorted, and I felt something warm touch my face. It took me a moment to realize it was a wet washcloth in my mother’s hand, scrubbing something that looked like rust off my face. She spoke in a steady stream, and I couldn’t understand her words at first, but it didn’t matter. Just the sound of her voice was comforting. I looked up and saw Jake, but after meeting my eyes, he jumped down from his chair and ran from the room.

Sensation slowly returned to the numb side of my face as my mother’s scrubbing woke a fierce burn in my forehead. I gradually recognized her words.

“—Swelling up pretty good. You’ll probably have a purple cheek for Christmas, and you’ve got a nasty gash on your forehead here…” She prodded the area with her fingers and I winced. Once my words worked again, I managed to croak out a question.

“Is Jake all right?”

“He’s pretty shook up, but he wasn’t hurt too bad. He won’t need stitches, but he’ll have a fat lip for a while. Honestly, I’ve seen him do worse than that to himself just being a little boy. I’m just glad they didn’t break his nose…” Her voice was calm, but the purse of her lips betrayed the seething anger she hid.

“I stayed late, and when I went outside, I saw them picking on him.” I rambled, my mind too scrambled to make much sense. My voice rose in volume as I grew frustrated with myself. “Why was he at the high school anyway?”

“Shh, settle down Jimmy, don’t be upset with him. He wanted to surprise you. I don’t think you’ll need stitches either, but this cut on your forehead is a doozie. Nothing bleeds like the scalp, it’s no wonder you were covered in blood.” She made me follow her finger and used the little LED flashlight on her keychain to check the dilation in my eyes. I numbly performed her other tests, and finally she sighed and seemed satisfied. “I don’t think you have a concussion. Come on Jimmy, let’s get you to your room…”

She helped me down the stairs and I laid down on top of my sheets. Dizzying and worrisome thoughts circled in my head like sharks. I wondered what Jacob saw, how much hell Mom and John would rain upon me for letting Jake get hurt, what might have happened with Jack and Malcolm—and what did they see of my wolf?

Just after I started Middle School, I came home one day and Mom hugged me with a huge smile on her face. We lived in Corona California, a nauseatingly hot and dusty sub-city near L.A., and Mom told me she was going to have a baby. I resented them for it. I felt abandoned all over again; I wasn’t good enough, so they’d given up and wanted to start over. I raged, I sulked, and I made John’s life a living hell when he decided that our home in Corona was too small for a family of four.

John packed us up and shipped us down to Miami right in the middle of the school year. I prepared myself to hate this child, the spawn of John. The day finally came the next spring, and I went into the maternity ward to see this nearly hairless red potato of an infant in my mother’s arms. I pretended to be happy, and she held it out for me to hold. I took the little bundle into my arms and something strange happened.

The rage and resentment I’d chosen to feel for this creature washed out of me.

I couldn’t help but smile as his warm stubby little digits wrapped around my finger in his sleep. My baby brother. I swore to myself that I would protect him. I wouldn’t let him live my life; I would guard him and keep him free of my darkness. In a lot of ways I helped raise him, almost like a third parent. I didn’t have any friends so I spent most of my time looking after him, especially after the accident that scarred my leg.

As he grew older, he started to idolize me. I realized that if I wanted to protect him from my life; I had to force him away. It killed me to sever that bond, but I had to for his sake.

I wanted to protect him so badly; I wanted to keep pain away from him…

Something roused me, and I forced the slits of my eyes open and brought my room into focus. My right eye refused to open wider than a squint. At first the room seemed empty, but then I saw Jacob sitting on my stairs, eyeing me.

I took a deep breath and forced myself up onto my elbows. A dull ache throbbed down my forehead into my cheekbone, but I forced a crooked smile around the swelling. “Hey…”

He didn’t respond except for shifting his position and averting his eyes. Acid scorched a line across my heart, and my eyes drifted down and took in the red line on his puffy lip.

I failed him; I failed him when he needed me most…

“Are you okay buddy?”

“Are you evil?”

“What?” The question took me off guard.

“He said you’re a demon, and that you’ll… You… You aren’t, are you?”

“Oh Jake; no I’m not evil. I can’t remember what happened, but whatever I did; I did it to protect you. If that makes me evil, fine. I think they’re evil for what they did to you. Why, do
you
think I’m evil?” I held my breath, fearing his answer.

“No, but…”

“But?”

“You scared me really bad…”

Oh God…
“I didn’t hurt you, did I?”

“No, but… Your eyes weren’t right.” I let out a mental sigh of relief; scaring him was bad enough, I would have killed myself right then and there if I’d actually harmed him. “And that bird was scary too…”

“What bird?”

“That big black one that came out nowhere while you were fighting them, remember?”

“No buddy, I don’t remember anything after they pushed me to the ground and I told you to run away. Um, would you mind telling me what happened,” I asked sheepishly, “After I started to get back up?”

“That was when your eyes went all scary.” He muttered and looked away again, “They sorta changed color and stuff, and it’s like it wasn’t you anymore. You grabbed the shorter one and threw him into the wall.”

“I
what?
C’mon Jacob, this isn’t funny.”

“But you did!” He looked at me, his eyes earnest, “You threw him and he hit the wall, like
fwoosh!
” he mimed swinging an imaginary opponent. “And he hit the wall and didn’t move, and it was really cool, but really scary too…. You’re not like that, you don’t throw people. You don’t hurt people…”

I stayed quiet but nodded, hoping he would continue.

“Then you jumped on the one who hurt me and knocked him over. You growled like a dog and tried to bite him. That was when the bird started attacking you, flapping around your head and stuff. The guy you threw against the wall woke up and they ran off. He yelled that you were a demon, and you were evil, and that hell’s going to swallow you up…” His eyes glistened and he sniffed, “I didn’t know if you were really you or not, and I was afraid that you would hurt me, so I ran home… Jimmy… you… you’re not going to get swallowed up by hell are you?” and he started crying.

Thank you Corwin, thank you…

“Oh Jake, come here…” I held out my arms, and for a painful second I thought he wouldn’t come. But he sniffed and wiped his nose on his sleeve, and then walked over and sat down on the bed next to me. I wrapped my arms around his shoulders and flopped back on the bed, taking him with me like I used to when he was a toddler. It hurt my bruised ribs, but I needed to hold him, to know he was okay. We sighed one after the other, while my mind worked and his sniffles subsided.

“Jacob, can I tell you a secret?”

He didn’t answer, but I could tell he was listening.

“But you have to promise not to tell another living soul; not Mom and Dad, none of your friends, no one,
ever.
”

He looked at me, obviously thinking about it very hard, and then he nodded.

“You have to say you promise, or I won’t tell you.”

“I promise, I’ll never tell anyone, not no one, ever!”

“Pinky swear?” He wrapped his little digit around mine and we shook.

I sighed and let my eyes wander as I tried to think; how the hell was I going to explain this?

The lead-grey sky hovered close to earth as the first tentative flakes thickened into a light blanket on Christmas Eve. I gnawed on a summer sausage as I walked past Mom in the living room.

She looked up from her magazine as I passed, “Do you just walk around chewing on that thing?”

“Myah, sho?” I answered around a mouthful of meat.

She shook her head and looked at her magazine again, “Nothing, it’s just so… canine. You’ve been turning into such a carnivore lately.”

I snorted, and then choked. My coughing helped disguise my laughter until I was safe behind my bedroom door. Oh, if only she
knew!
It’d be a miracle if I could look at her at all tonight without laughing.

So far at least, Jacob seemed to be holding up to his promise.

I smiled as I sat down on the floor of my room and wrapped the last of the presents. Geri had been difficult to shop for, but Loki told me he liked video games, so I got him the latest “blow anything that moves into bloody chunks” game.

I wrapped Loki’s gifts and set them with Geri’s. And finally, with the sweetish tang of scotch-tape lacing the air, everything was done. The gifts for my family waited in a sack under my bed. I stacked the Pack’s gifts in my arms and carted them upstairs where I arranged them around the tree.

I sat down in the chair by the window and admired our tree until my gaze drifted outside where little puffs of white drifted to the ground. I relaxed and smiled as I watched their lethargic one-way ballet. Christmas music played on the stereo and the aroma of cooking meat escaped from the kitchen.

The harsh tone of the phone’s ringer startled me, and I growled as I sn
atched it and pressed the green button.

“Hello?” I grumbled.

“This is Officer Parker, is that you Jimmy?” a scratchy tenor replied over heavy background noise.

“Yeah, it’s me.” I replied more civilly as I sat up, he was the cop who came over after Mom called in the fight. He asked how Jacob and I were recovering, and then gave me the court date for the trial once I’d found a pen. I clicked off the receiver and heaved myself out of my comfy spot and walked into the scent-drowned kitchen to write the court date on the calendar.

“Who called?” Mom asked while shredding some smoked salmon with a fork.

“Officer Parker, he called to give us the court date.” I wrote the time in on the calendar. “What are we going to do about Mr. Spritari?”

“Leave that business to me honey, I’ll take care of it. Here, try this and tell me what you think?” She paused and offered me a cracker with her salmon spread on it.

“Hm, it’s good Mom. Maybe just a splash more lemon juice though.”

“Thanks.” A timer went off, and she reached over the stove to turn off a burner. “Dinner’s almost ready; can you set the table and fetch the boys? I think your dad’s in his office.” I bit my tongue and got to work.

Fetch boy, fetch…

Two taper candles—red and green per tradition—lit the room along with the ambient glow from the tree in the living room. I filled wine glasses for Jake and myself with sparkling apple cider, while John poured some wine for Mom and himself. I drowned in the smell of the food, and had to close my eyes and swallow a mouthful of drool.

The food was divine, and I ate until my stomach reached the point of detonation. Though, I found just enough room to ‘help’ Jacob with the rest of his roast. His little belly bulged and he languished in his chair like the happiest slug alive.

“Whew, stick a fork in me, I’m done…” I muttered and slouched in my chair.

“About time,” John muttered, “I thought you were going to start gnawing on the table. You shouldn’t eat so much or you’ll get fat again.” He leaned back and sipped his merlot.

I glared at him, “So, are you the pot and I’m the kettle, or is it the other way around? I thought you used to play football? I bet the only run you could make around that gut is from the sofa to the fridge.”

His mouth twisted into a scowl and he leaned forward. He opened his mouth to retort when Mom cut him off.

“John, Jimmy, stop it both of you!” Mom snapped and pointed at us with her fork, “I will
not
have you ruining Christmas for the entire family. If you don’t stop picking at each other, I
swear
I will slap the both of you.”

I bit my tongue and hid my smile.

We cleaned up the dishes and packed the leftovers, waddling like penguins around our swollen bellies. Then Jacob hounded John, “Dad! Dad! Can we go out and look at Dec’ies now?”

‘Dec’ies’ was Jacob’s word for decorations. Every year we drove around after dinner looking at the lights and decorations that other people put up for the holidays.

We drove around for almost an hour before returning home and serving up Crimson Pie and eggnog for desert. John started a fire, and we took our favorite spots around the room.

Jake passed out cold, curled up in his chair. I picked him up and carried him upstairs to his room. He woke halfway up and mumbled “Don’t forget to put out cookies for Santa…”

“Don’t worry,” I smiled at him, “I’ve got it covered.” He was out again by the time I set him down in his bed. I pulled his shoes off and covered him, then kissed his forehead, “Sweet dreams, buddy.”

I’d figured out Santa on my own when I was five, younger than Jake was now. He still believed though, and the world robs you of innocence far too early. I threw a dollop of salmon spread in the middle of a plate and surrounded it with crackers, and then set it on the mantle near Jacob’s stocking. I got ready for bed and said my goodnights, then went downstairs.

I turned on the lamp beside my bed and read, while I tracked their movements upstairs with my phantom ears. Their footsteps finally tromped upstairs and went quiet. I finished my chapter and stuck the torn-off corner of one of my assignments in as a bookmark, then slid the bag of gifts out from under my bed and started up the stairs.

My ears twitched as I heard another sound over my head, coming down the stairs. I pulled the shadows over myself on reflex, and crept out to peek around the corner into the living room.  

Jake crouched down by the tree and inspected the presents Mom and John set out. It broke my heart that his time was almost up. But still, I crept around the room to stand in the shadows by the cooling fireplace and covered my mouth to muffle the sound as I ‘ho ho ho’d quietly. Jacob gasped and looked at the fireplace, oblivious to me, and then dropped the present he was holding and bolted upstairs.

I waited while one of the parental units opened the door to check on Jake and went back to bed before I stepped over to the tree and set my packages out; some of which were labeled, ‘To: Jacob, From: Santa’.

I knew I would lose the war, but I would drag the battle out as long as I could. I took a bite of the dip on the mantle, and left a cracker with a bite mark on the plate.

The muffled thud of feet overhead woke me as I blinked drowsily and yawned without bothering to keep my tongue inside my mouth. Painfully bright light pounded through my window, and I blinked repeatedly to clear my eyes. I snuggled deeper into the soft warmth of my blankets, and smiled until Jacob barreled down the stairs and jumped on me.

“Jimmy, Jimmy, get up, get up! It’s Christmas, come on, get up!”

Dear lord, give me coffee! Now!

I sent him back upstairs and groaned as I pushed my covers back, put on my slippers and shuffled up the stairs.

Mom was in the kitchen, as red-eyed as I was, standing by the coffee maker with a cup ready as the blessed black stream collected in the carafe. Well, one hurdle down.

“Merry Christmas baby,” she smiled at me and yawned. The thumps of Jake herding John down the stairs drew my attention, and I watched as his eyes took in the new presents and the almost empty plate over the fireplace. He gaped for a moment, and then joined us in the kitchen while ‘good morning’s and ‘Merry Christmas’s were exchanged around the coffee pot.

“You seem to be up awfully late,” Mom teased Jacob, “Usually you’re awake at five, jumping all over us!”

“
Yeah,” John added, as he accepted a steaming mug, “Makes me wonder if maybe
somebody
stayed up later than he should have?” He gave Jake a stern look, “You’re lucky Santa didn’t just pass you over.”

I smiled and made Jake some hot cocoa, and we took our drinks into the living room with us. Mom retrieved our stockings from the fireplace and then we opened our presents, putting special emphasis on the ones from ‘Santa’.

I got a lot of—badly needed—new clothes that actually fit, and John gave me “The Wolfman”, and told me again how it was the first scary movie he ever saw as a kid. I could only smile and scratch my head, knowing that somewhere under the tree was the same movie, which I’d gotten for him. He also gave me a couple of the cd’s on my list, and Mom gave me one of the books I’d asked for, ‘The Magic of Shapeshifting’. Fen had recommended it to me months ago, and I’d only remembered when Mom pestered me into making a list for her.

“That one was pretty hard to find,” she muttered, “Getting into some weird stuff there Jimmy…”

I just smiled, “Fen told me about it, there’s supposed to be some cool folklore in here. Everything else I read just sounds like the same thing over and over again.” I improvised as I read the summary on the back cover.

When the oven timer went off, I started a fresh pot of coffee and set the table. Breakfast was slow; the kitchen glowed with sunlight, the ceiling washed with glare from the snow outside. After breakfast we all went our own ways, and I took the seat by the window and read while Jake played with his new toys in the living room.

I cracked open pistachios, and held the book open with my elbow when the phone rang. I scowled and held the earpiece up with my shoulder as I cracked another pistachio, “Hello?”

“Merry Christmas pup!” Loki yelled into the phone and I jumped.

“Merry Christmas, I think you just ruptured my eardrum.” I muttered and switched ears so I could hear her over the ringing. Regardless, my phantom tail wagged at the sound of her voice.

“That was just your first gift, when can I bring your others by?” she chirped.

“I dunno, if they’re as painful as that first one, I’m not sure I want ‘em.” I chided.

“Oh, don’t be like that; are you trying to say there’s absolutely
nothing
I could give you?”

Strictly platonic, I reminded myself. “I guess swing by whenever, I’m just sitting around and eating.”

“Seriously, that’s all you’re doing for Christmas?”

“
Yup,” I turned the page, “What can I say, I’m not exactly a shining example of normalcy.”

“Aw, you’re just fuzzy! I’m desperate to escape the extended family, so I’ll be by as soon as I can talk Dad into loaning me the truck, ‘kay?”

“Wait, but… what does fuzzy have to do with anything?”

“See ya later!” click, tone.

I set the phone down and almost made it to the end of the page before it rang again. Growling, I answered.

“Hey Jimmy, its Fen.”

My mood brightened again, “What’s up?”

“Not much, you?” His voice sounded small over the phone, even though he was just a couple blocks away.