Pack Ties, Blood Lies

Chapter 3 - Orders

Thirty minutes later, almost out of the reach of our Pack-Land, we came to a big old building.

I had never been here before, and the dusty porch told me that it wasn't a frequent haunt of anyone's.

"What is this place?" I asked, as Jack led the way through the creaky old door and down a dark hallway. The walls had been smashed up quite a bit and cobwebs hung in every corner.

Jack looked sad for a moment before answering. "This is the old Pack House. No one comes here since the raids."

Suddenly, I saw the place with new eyes. The scratched and broken walls from wolves fighting. The brown stains on the floor from old blood of lost lives.

"Surely there is somewhere else we can go, Jack?" I half whimpered as we turned into a giant hall. It had clearly once been a large dining hall, but the furniture had long since been removed. All that was left was a thick layer of dust coating the entire floor, combined with plenty of broken crockery.

Jack ignored me and shrugged off his jacket, hanging it on the doorknob. He began kicking debris to the sides of the room, indicating for me to do the same.

He disappeared into a closet for a second before coming back triumphantly brandishing a broom.

"Clean up here, I'll be back soon ok?" he asked, while shoving the broom into my hands.

I tried to protest, but he was already out of the door.

Grumbling, I wandered over to the crank for the windows, high above my head. It took all my strength to break through the years of rust and get it to turn.

As fresh air wafted in, I began to sweep. Coughing as the dust billowed up with each brush stroke.

Grumbling, I tore off a strip from the bottom of my coffeeshop t-shirt and tied it around my nose and mouth as a makeshift mask.

I was just scraping what I could of the dirt pile onto the largest piece of crockery I could find when Jack got back. He was wearing his paper training clothes and lugging a huge duffle bag.

Standing, I wiped my dusty hands on my trousers and pulled my mask down to finally breathe cool air.

Jack laughed and dumped a bag on the floor, pulling out a jar of lemonade and throwing it to me.

I caught it easily, drinking thirstily and dripping some down my front. The cool liquid dripped down to my exposed midriff and I sighed contentedly.

As I finished, I looked up to see Jack watching me. His eyes were so dark they were almost black.

"What?" I asked, wiping my mouth with the back of my hand self-consciously.