Image: Lonely Highways by Ethan Killian
Soundtrack: Highway To Hell by AC/DC
***
David's silver pickup speeds down the backroads of southern Calgary, rapidly approaching the civilization where the Covenant awaits to tear us apart.
I glance over my shoulder at the three Lycans crammed into the backseat. Mr. Adolphus, his daughter Margo, and the old woman, Sejka – each awards me with a wide smile. We'd strapped our backpacks into the truck bed. David told me that the clan had modified the packs so they'd still fit when we Shifted to wolf form. The thought of a bunch of wild animals wearing knapsacks almost brings a smile to my lips.
We'd stopped at our townhouse, where I'd stuffed a meagre amount of clothing into the pack.
"What about Max?" I ask suddenly, imagining a furry face and bright, welcoming eyes. "What if something happens to us?"
"Your dog knows how to take care of himself," Mr. Adolphus says. David meets his eyes and some silent thought passes between the two of them. What an odd response. Margo's dad has never met Max, has he? Maybe David's been telling the clan all about us, while keeping me in the dark. How nice of him.
"Mike will take care of Max," my uncle reassures me. "He's aware that I have time constraints this week."
Margo laughs. "Hah! Time constraints. What an understatement."
David ignores her. "We have less than an hour to get in and out."
"We?" My aunt raises her eyebrows.
"Well, just me," he replies softly. "Lauren wanted Skye to come in with me, but—"
"Definitely not!" Margo gasps. "I still don't understand why one of us can't—"
"I'm not taking any chances," David interjects as a highway comes into view. He hits the gas and merges onto the desolate four-lane the exact moment AC/DC's "Highway To Hell" plays on the radio.
Seeing the look on my face, my uncle flips the switch. Unable to get the chorus out of my mind, I release an exaggerated sigh to disguise my fear.
"Tell me about Ferals." I adjust my Flames toque and tuck a disobedient lock behind my ear. There's an uncomfortable pause before my uncle speaks again.
"Ferals?" David asks reluctantly.
I shrug, unable to get the chorus out of my mind. "Lauren mentioned it last night."
"You come from a long line of shapeshifters, Skye. Your mother is human but your father and I were born as Lycans. The curse – or blessing as I like to call it – was passed on to you. Most were born into their shapeshifting abilities, but some were Changed."
"You mean...?"
"Bitten, yes."
Mr. Adolphus clears his throat. "But that isn't a common occurrence. You see, some Lycans go feral. That is, they lose control of themselves and give in to their darkest nature." Margo's father stares out the window as forest makes way for farmland. A look of sadness overcomes his features as a row of houses becomes visible on the horizon.
"Did that happen to my dad?" I ask uncertainly. "Is that how the Covenant tracked him down?"
"No," Margo chimes in from the back seat. "Those Covenant pigs have no right to go hunting us down without a just cause. How were they to know they'd cornered Lycans and not simple hikers?"
David grunts. "Well, the Shifting was a telltale sign—"
Seeing my expression, Mr. Adolphus' eyes soften, and he smiles. "Skye, this will all be coming to an end soon. Your father will be the saviour of our race."
"The saviour?" I ask uncertainly. "And what kind of end will that be?"
David clears his throat. "Alright, Lauren wants you three waiting for us in the park this afternoon. We'll scout out the area once we get there."
"I've been around the park with you and Margo a bunch of times," I tell them, trying unsuccessfully to forget the implications of the 'end' that Mr. Adolphus had brought up unintentionally. "I know it like the back of my hand."
"But these two don't," David says, nodding at his father-in-law and the old woman beside him. Sejka hasn't said a word the entire time, but she'd been listening in.
"True," Mr. Adolphus points out. "It would be good to make ourselves familiar with the location."
David exchanges glances with the old woman with the beaded cloak. "Take care of my relatives, please, Sejka. Stay alert and at the ready."
"I would be more comfortable if I was closer to the action," the old woman says.
I gape at her. Closer? I wish I were farther away from it. And shouldn't it be Mr. Adolphus and Margo that are taking care of Sejka, not vice versa? She's not exactly young...
The elder has an accent that I haven't heard before, and I guess that her first language may be some sort of native Canadian dialect. She certainly doesn't dress like she's from around here. David seems to understand this, too.
"The Covenant knows me. Even if Skye is seen, they'll just assume she's a relative of mine, but you'll stand out like a—"
"Sore thumb," Sejka interjects with a small chuckle. "Be careful in there. I do not want to see any injuries tonight."
"My thoughts exactly. Well, seven years of planning has led up to this. I won't just wing it."
I regard David with interest. "How does the Covenant know you? And how, exactly, does that fact help us?"
David chuckles. "I'm a double agent, Skye."
"You're kidding."
"Ever since your mother died, I've been working hours here and there with the Covenant."
"So that's why you never had much free time. So much for 'marking papers'," I mumble.
"Hey, those students have some painfully long answers to simple problems. Don't even get me started."
I stare at my uncle. "But the Covenant would kill you if they found out who you were."
"But I don't fit into the Covenant's narrow definition of what it means to be a werewolf. I'm not, and never have been, a mindless killing machine that's set off by the light of the full moon. They've never suspected me."
"The Covenant thinks all Lycans are Ferals. Monsters."
"Exactly."
"You're lucky they trust you," I mumble. I lean my head against the window and stare at the asphalt rushing by as the pickup rumbles down the highway to hell.
"I sure am."
***
I run for my life.
A large, hooded figure follows, keeping his distance. He doesn't need to catch me; he needs only to follow. The others will do his dirty work. There is nowhere to hide, so losing track of me doesn't faze him in the slightest. All he lives for is to witness my end, the end of my race. His breath, though faraway, thuds like thunder against my sensitive eardrums and I struggle to block him out. I want my last thoughts to be pure and innocent. Distractions are not welcome. I want to die happy, unafraid. I want to remember my short life for what it was: a positive, loving, beautiful life. There had been sorrow and there had been grief, but I'd surpassed them all. I had loved and had been loved. I had tasted the sweet nectar of life and I would not give it up that easily.
I can't die now.
There could be so much more if only I would be given the chance. I could be the next Mozart or the next Van Gogh. I could change the world if only I could show this man what I was capable of. But he won't listen. He doesn't want to listen. And it's because of who I've become.
No, it's because of who I've always been.
But I won't go down that easily. I will do whatever it takes to make survival a reality.
Drawing in a deep breath, I turn on my heel and face him, raising my eyes to his in a challenge. He doesn't falter; instead, he grows closer. I don't think.
I leap.
His slender form cracks and crumbles under my claws. My jaws snap shut. My eyes burn with rage. My vision fades to black again.
"Skye!" A woman's voice enters my thoughts.
I do not let go of my kill.
"Wake up!" a second voice cries out, distant compared with the roar of my primitive state of mind. I ignore it.
"Skye, are you all right?" the woman called Sejka asks me. I force my eyes open, staring back at the four Lycans in the pickup. My heart feels as if it's going to burst out of my chest. My cheeks begin to flush at the expectant looks on their faces.
How did I fall asleep? Seriously. It's the worst possible times that I conk out.
I blink twice, focusing on Sejka and pushing all other thoughts from my mind. I try to take in her startling appearance without staring for too long, but I can't help myself. Sejka's long onyx hair is laced with grey. It's pulled into tight braids that frame her face. Now that she's leaning in, I can see the details of her cloak more closely. The tiny beads are beautifully sewn into creative shapes, and soft fabric drapes her slender form. Yet even though her skin is copper-toned, her eyes are a strange shade of silver, like that of the stars above. Her gaze forces me to freeze in place. I can't look away. It's as if she can see straight through me, to my very soul. In my mind's eye, I look back at the paintings I'd done. The same silvery eyes stare back at me from the wilds of the forest beyond.
The White Wolf.
Somehow I know that this is the animal – the woman – that I had drawn. I hadn't known who she was at the time, but somehow when I look at Sejka, I feel as though I've known her all my life. She wears a single feather in her hair, and I wonder where she got it – it looks like a raven's feather, but it has an iridescent azure glow that I'd never noticed on such a bird.
"Skye?" Mr. Adolphus asks, breaking me out of my stupor.
"I'm fine," I mutter.
Sejka's worried eyes continue to gaze into my very spirit and I feel suddenly and inexplicably exposed. What's wrong with me? the little voice inside my head relentlessly repeats.
"Skye, you need to dig deep down into your thoughts. Bring them together and connect them. Synthesize them," Mr. Adolphus tells me firmly.
"Do not lose yourself to the beast inside," David adds, turning his gaze back to the open road. He grips the steering wheel even harder, and I sense the tension in his jaw.
"What are you talking about?"
"Your blackouts," the beta says carefully. "Surely someone told you such lapses of the mind had been the beginning of Shifts."
"I'd guessed that," I mutter, my voice soaked with sarcasm.
David clears his throat, taking his hand off the wheel long enough to scratch his stubble. "I want you to stay in control. Master your own mind and its emotions, no matter how confusing they get. Any lapse of consciousness could lead to...terrible things."
I shudder. This conversation is going dark places fast. Not that it's much worse than what I'd just dreamt. Glancing out the window, I note that the sun is almost midway across the autumn sky; the silhouettes of the eastern trees glow an eerie magenta, their outlines blurred.
"Promise us you'll do that, Skye," Margo says, scanning my expression. "Promise me you'll work on controlling your emotions."
"I promise."
"With practice, your blackouts will eventually cease. You'll be able to fully control your Shifts and your mind."
I hope so. But if these blackouts are still happening to me, why am I here? Why are they sending me into the devil's nest to help break out captured Lycans when I might accidentally lapse into a feral state in the process? Surely if any members of the Covenant are witness to such a thing, they'll know what – and who – I am.
Mr. Adolphus clears his throat. "Did you rest well?"
"Yeah, I mean, except for that last bit." I stare at my sneakers. David had made sure we all had brought a pair of shoes; though Lycans find it perfectly normal to walk around barefoot, it would turn a few heads in the city.
"Good, because we're here." David spins the wheel, pulling up to the curb. "Sejka, Mr. Adolphus," he says, "are you alright staying here, or should we rendezvous someplace else?"
"It's fine by me." The beta climbs down from the pickup, helping Sejka and Margo down after him. "There's a nice bench across the way."
"Before you go," Sejka begins at a whisper, approaching my door. I roll down the window and look down into her silvery eyes.
"Yes?"
The old woman reaches up into her hair and unties her raven feather. She passes it up to me. I accept it, confused, not taking my eyes off of her.
"Remember us," she says, smiling faintly at me. "Remember your loved ones. It will help you stay sane in a world of confusion."
"Thank you."
I gingerly stroke the feather, aware that all eyes are on me. I gently place the gift at the bottom of my backpack.
Mr. Adolphus grins. "Good luck. You'll make it. If you don't, Margo will never forgive us."
"Damn right," my aunt snickers, but the look in her eyes betrays the worry that gnaws at her heart. She pushes an ebony curlicue behind her ear, adjusting her rose-rimmed spectacles. "Be careful, both of you."
David sighs, nodding. His face is devoid of colour, but he forces a smile for his wife's sake.
We pull away from the curb, waving at the three we've left behind. I reach up to my neck, taking off the locket Margo had given me and opening it to the picture of my parents and me. Feeling tears pooling at the corners of my eyes, I brush them away with my sleeve. It won't do to let the others see me cry. Sighing, I pull the chain back over my head. The locket rests roughly over my heart, and the memory is something no one can take away from me. Not even the Covenant.
***
Living easy, living free
Season ticket on a one-way ride
Asking nothing, leave me be
Taking everything in my stride
~ AC/DC - Highway To Hell