Red Moon Rising

19. alone

Chapter Song: Well-dressed - Hop Along

XX

I catch a ride with a woman who is not a wolf, but who seems like one purely in demeanor alone. She's sharp and witty, and she laughs with her head thrown back. I want to ask her what she's doing driving this way all alone, but I don't, and by the time we pass Duluth I haven't even asked her name.

There are five missed calls from Jeana, two from Cameron, and at least a dozen more from Tasha. I text Tasha to let her know that I'm okay, that I'll call her as soon as I've found a place to stay tonight. But I can't bring myself to hear her voice. And besides, I don't even know where I'll be each night. I've slept in the woods twice now, showering at a nearby truck stop this morning. There's a wire thin man with a ratty baseball cap and an oddly charming smile who gives me a ride out of Duluth until his hand starts to wander up my thigh. We're roaring down I-35 in a bright red semi truck, and there's a terrible moment where I consider letting him feel me up just to get to the next town without conflict. Instead, I twist his wrist hard, probably harder than he'd expect from a human woman, and soon he's exiting the interstate to let me out in front of a casino buzzing with weekend business. I barely hear the stream of curses he yells out his window, and then he blares his horn and cuts back across traffic to merge onto the interstate. I'm just south of Cloquet, I think, but I don't feel like venturing into town, especially in my state. Maybe they won't look at me like I'm a wolf, but they will understand that I'm veritably homeless, even if I don't see it that way.

For the next two days, I take to the woods. There's a lot of state forest around these parts, and even much of the private property is so sprawling and unruly—flecked by lakes that make surveying nearly impossible—that I'm not worried about running into anyone. I hike until I'm tired, and then I sleep until I'm not. When I'm hungry, I strip off my clothes and shift. At first, I bring the food back to my camp and cook it. But there comes a point when I don't care as much anymore, when the raw rabbit or muskrat or whatever the hell else I find fills my stomach just the same in wolf form as it would cooked when I'm human. I see people every now and then, as a wolf, but the fear the I should feel, that I would have felt not so long ago, just isn't there anymore. But they're always afraid of me.

Sometimes I see other wolves, wild wolves, as well. They stay far away from me when I'm human, but when I'm a wolf they'll occasionally circle near, curiosity eventually giving way to terror when they realize that I am something so much different than I appear. They aren't so different from humans, really. Maybe people have that same subconscious reaction to shifters. Maybe their hatred, their fear, is something they can't even entirely explain themselves.

The mid-September sky is rarely cloudy, and I track the sun's progress to head in a rough northerly direction during the day. At night, I use the knowledge of the stars that Cam taught me to keep heading in that direction. Paved highways give way more frequently to dirt roads and dead ends, and each town I pass seems to shrink in size, with some of them housing only a few hundred people and even more empty shells of houses. I squat in a foreclosed house for a night, nearly crying when I find that the water hasn't been turned off yet. A hot shower has never felt quite this luxurious, and shag carpeting never quite this soft.

"Where are you?" Tasha tries to keep the edge from her voice when I finally call her.

"I'm staying in Duluth for awhile," I lie. "I'm okay, I promise. I'm sorry I haven't called, I've just...not been in a great headspace."

"That's exactly why you should call."

"I know, I'm sorry. How are things there?"

She's quiet for a long moment, and then she sighs. "Things are okay."

"I ran into Tom. He told me about Mira."

"She's doing okay, Layla. Don't you go blaming yourself for this."

"I'm not, I just..."

"I know. Do you have a place to stay?"

I glance around at the darkened room. It's empty and shadowed and smells like dust, but it has a roof—something I've come to miss. "Yeah. Nothing fancy."

"And you're safe?"

"Relax, Tasha." I run my fingers across the shag carpeting and close my eyes. "How is...how's Cam doing?"

"He's been trying to call you."

"I can't talk to him right now. Did he talk to the elders already?"

I can hear her holding her breath, and her voice is too gentle. "Yeah, he did."

"And?"

"She agreed to meet with him. I think she's meeting his dad now."

"Oh."

"You don't have to ask about him if you don't want to, you know."

"What's her name?"

"Emma."

"Oh." The name is what twists so sharp into my gut now. It was easier when she was a nameless, formless thing. But she has a name, and she's meeting his family. Poor Cam—to lose so much and to be forced to crawl back to someone like that. Poor Emma. Poor me. "Have you met her? Is she nice?"

"Yeah...she seems cool, actually. I think it isn't the easiest for her after what happened, though."

"I suppose not."

"I'm not going to talk about them anymore, okay?"

I laugh, but it doesn't sound genuine. "That's probably a good idea. Tell me what's happening in Rust Cove."

I wish that I'd called her earlier. She was right, as she always is, that I should have called—just hearing her voice eases some of the ache, the cold. I miss her enough that for a fleeting moment I entertain the idea of going home. But in reality, I would only be there to wait for Jackson to retrieve me. He's a high rank, and maybe he's even next in line to lead the pack. Maybe I would get to see my family more freely, but I'd still be bound to that asshole. And after what Cam and I did, I'm sure the council would keep a close eye on me.

I'm too tired to feel the anger that normally fills me when I think of Jackson and the council. I'm too tired to try to consider the way a few bones overturned Cam and my lives. It doesn't matter anymore whether Jackson used his connections to match us or if the elders really did believe what they saw in those bones. I don't try to piece together the way Elder Whitten kept throwing the bones in the exact same shapes. None of if matters anymore. I think, even if it were all true, if the gods acted through the elders to bring Jackson and I together, I still would have run. That realization is one that I decide to tell no one else, especially not Tasha, who is currently railing against people in the pack who think I've cursed them. Every sniffle or stubbed toe is blamed on Cam and me now, a fact that makes me resent my pack just a little for the first time. It's like I told Cam before—it really is always easier to have someone else to blame.

Sleep is solid and long, that night, I think because for the first time, my thoughts are of Tasha and dad instead of Cam. It's one thing to miss someone who misses you back. It's another to long for someone who has intentionally left you behind. I'm reluctant to leave the house in the morning, but there isn't anything more for me in this tiny town than there was in Finn or Duluth. The woods promise a certain comfort and familiarity now that draws me in like it never has before. It's easier to understand a place when I'm the only person there to understand.