"She cannot look me in the eyes, you know? And she'd rather never speak to me again."
Alex sighed as she handed Tom the beer they were sharing.
"I know what you mean," he said. "Just like my wife after I told her about the garthling."
They talked in a relaxed, plain way, sharing experiences and thoughts, laying back on their sleeping bags.
"D'you see them often, your wife and son?"
"Only a few times a year. She's married and they had a baby girl last year. She asked me to stay away. You know, to keep Samuel safe."
"She's back to Seattle?"
"Burlington."
"Oh... Only an hour away from Newhalem, right?"
"Yes."
Why did it bother her, knowing his ex lived halfway between Newhalem and Bold Peak?
"Your niece won't just shut you out. She knows what this is about. She just needs some time to process it—adjust to the difference between what she fancied and reality."
"Yeah, guess so..."
Tom handed her back the beer and she smiled at the black-and-red tattoo in his inner forearm, entangled with his scars.
"Native American design," she said.
"Skagit. It calls on the Great Wolf spirit to scare the fake wolf away."
"Looks cool. I like it."
Tom flashed an awkward smile and changed the subject away from himself.
"And what're you gonna do if she doesn't come around?"
Alex shrugged, grimacing. "I don't know. Guess I'll do what you did: stay the hell away." She sighed. "I've spent my whole life looking after her one way or the other. I'd never hurt her on purpose. If she doesn't want me around, I'd keep my distance and an eye on her, to make sure she's alright."
"Al! You there?"
Alex frowned at hearing Claire's voice from the radio.
"Wake up, Al! You're in danger!"
"Whoa, kiddo! What's up?" asked Alex over the radio.
Claire sounded really upset. "You gotta come down here asap, you hear me?"
"What? You nuts? It's pouring!"
"You asked me to look into garthlings, right? And Jeff just told me about the pack that attacked you."
"Yeah. The alpha's ridden by a garthling. But it's hurt and it led the pack away."
"Don't think so, Al. Listen, garthlings usually change ride only when their animal is dying."
"What d'you mean, usually?"
"According to Grandpa's book, they can change ride even if the animal is fine. The catch is that they can only do it on equinox nights."
Alex met Tom's eyes, alarmed. He'd sat up and listened with a concerned frown.
"And equinox is within the next couple of days..." she said.
"No! It's early this year! It's right tonight! So you bet the garthling's coming for you guys before sunrise!"
Alex looked up at Tom again and found him staring at the tent's door. A howl pierced through the night, several more echoed it. They sounded close. And from all around the tent.
"Al! Did you hear me?"
Like a dream, Alex heard Claire as she watched Tom grab the Magnum and sneak out. The howls stopped when he opened the rainfly, replaced by low, menacing growls.
"For God's sake, Al! Get the hell outta there!"
Alex heard the footsteps in the mud. Feet? Paws? Why was she frozen like that at such a moment? No. It just wasn't happening. It was but a bad dream. The gunshot shook her up. A split second later, it was the thud of something heavy falling to the ground. She dropped the radio and leaned toward the tent's unzipped door.
"Tom...?" No answer. She was scared of what she might find outside. "TOM!"
A shuffle. A long howl.
Alex sat to wear her hiking boots as fast as she could. Behind her, Claire's voice called out in vain.
"AL! YOU THERE? YOU OKAY? TALK TO ME!"
Alex hurried out.