Passing through the city, David suggested they go to his place to spend the night before the next critical day. After seeing what had happened to Julie prematurely that evening, Crissa convinced him they must get out of the city as soon as possible. She would also need to tell him the changes regarding the cabin and the most serious development, the vicious murder of Professor Dekker, while in his lab at the University of Alaska.
After arriving at an all-night Walmart store in Vancouver, the two went in to the dining area before shopping for what Crissa knew would be their essentials over the next three or four days and nights.
"My father found out," she said, leaning back exhausted and putting sugar in her tea. "That someone had been in the cabin last month."
David looked at her, surprised.
"He saw some damages inside the place, so he went up and changed the locks. He also said he made the windows more secure."
"God. I feel bad about that," David said, sincerely.
"It's alright. It had to be done."
"So where does that leave us these next days and nights, then?" His look was now questioning and serious.
"We'll pick up some tools here. An extra change of closthes for you. But mainly things you'll need to break us back in again."
"Are you sure? Sure you want to do that, Crissa?"
"Completely. We have no other option right now."
He looked down dejectedly at the dull surface of the table.
"Do you think this will ever change, Crissa? Any of this?"
"I don't know. But for now, we're in love . . . and we have a plan. To get you out of sight and safe for a few days. We'll just have to handle all of this . . . this month by month."
"So, we're going to the cabin?"
"Yes. But . . . think clothes and tools, David. Screwdrivers? A hammer? You tell me what we'll need to break in without a key."
He could not hold back a smile of admiration. It arose from her tenacity and what he knew could only be love.
"Alright then. A screwdriver and hammer are good. Jeans and a t-shirt? Some cheap tennis shoes, socks a sweatshirt?"
"OK, Great. And we'll need some food . . . flashlight, batteries . . . what else?"
"Wait, Crissa. I'm taking you back to the college after I get settled in, right?"
"No. This time I'm staying with you there."
"Come on, That's super dangerous!"
"I'll be fine."
"But the woods up there. It's going to be full of wolves . . . especially if they . . ."
"If they what?"
"If they smell me. It's a sense super-refined in wolves. I've experienced it. That's how I could always locate you . . . human . . . female . . . Crissa."
"You're kidding."
"No. Every mammal gives off these pheromones. I've studied them. Their sex-related smells. They're not consciously detected in humans anymore, but we have them. And we used to use them more in ancient times. Wolves know them well and use them to identify each other."
"OK. So maybe you can just stay inside . . ."
"It's no use, Crissa. The clan up there will know I'm back. Just as soon as we arrive at the cabin. Their sense of smell is like a bloodhound. Powerful at great distances."
The thought caused a chill to run up Crissa's back.
"Well . . . I don't care then, I'll stay inside most the time. And hopefully, you will too."
"It didn't work last time, Crissa. Even when I was in Germany. I just get this uncontrollable feeling I must run . . . and hunt."
"Alright David. I can understand that. We'll just have to take this as it comes."
He could see the pensive look in her beautiful face was turning gradually to fear. He leaned over the table and kissed her softly on the lips to embolden her once more.
"We'll make our way through this, Crissa. I promise. We can make it."
"OK," she whispered, slowly pulling away. "There's one more . . . huge thing you need to know."
"Which is?"
"Professor Dekker. He was killed . . . mauled by a wolf. In his lab. It was in the news . . . all over."
David looked stunned.
"There's no doubt . . . it was Julie," she said, finishing her tea. "Her parents sent her back to him. Back to his lab., Brad told me."
"Jesus!"
"It must have happened in one of her rages." She added. "Like what we witnessed tonight with Trisha."
"God Crissa! Are they really sure that it was a . . ."
"His throat was ripped out, David. By a wolf, the investigators said. And definitely while in his lab."
"So . . . yeah. Julie then," he said with resignation. His expression turned to sadness.
"You were on the boat when I found out, David. I couldn't reach you."
"Alright. So let's buy our things and get up the mountain."
He seemed still stunned but now more propelled to move on and face what they had to face. He then paused a moment.
"You'll also need . . . a large knife or something," he added quietly. "For protection."
"I'm pretty content to just have you."
"Yeah, well having something else never hurts. But we really shouldn't wait here any longer."
* * *
After filling Crissa's backpack with food and tools, a complete change of clothes for David—and a large hunting knife, purchased at his insistence, the two left the Wallmart parking lot on his motorbike. They rode across town to the highway which led up to the East Vancouver suburbs and further still, to the mountain roads.
Before long they had completely left the lights of the city and only large trees loomed up in David's headlight as they rounded the many curves. Coming to the dirt road that led to her parents' cabin, Crissa felt the familiar feeling of fear which had gripped her the last time she was there, frantically escaping with a barely conscious David from the local wolves.
They parked the bike against the side of the cabin and used their flashlight and tools to break in through the front door.They entered the building with their supplies and Crissa went directly to the electrical box in the hallway and turned on the main switch. Turning on the lights, she could see that her father had cleaned to floors in the bedroom and kitchen, and the blankets were folded neatly on the mattress. There were still the signs of scratching on the bedroom door, left by the wolves trying to get to David.
While she busied herself putting the food into cupboards and turning on the refrigerator where she stocked it with packages of raw meat, David went back into the bedroom.
"Crissa, come here," he called out.
As she entered, she saw that he had opened the curtains and the inside shutters on the back window.
He was sitting on the bed facing it and looking directly east toward the mountain range.
"Turn off the light," he said, quietly.
Crissa did this, and to her surprise saw what appeared to the perfect arch of the full moon just peering over the top of the distant mountain. There were already shadows thrown in front of it by the near trees. The sight of the moon—its luminosity and significance, caused Crissa to hold her breath.
"David, I think we have one more night . . . before . . ."
"No. I can feel it now, Crissa. I can sense its power. It's pulling something inside me . . ."
She was too frightened to speak. Part of her wanted to run to him. To hold him. To try to stop the change, yet at the same time, some other invisible force told her to hold back. To be cautious. To let nature work as it would, but to be wary of it.
"Leave the room, Crissa. Please!"
His voice was altered and intense, as she now knew the rest of him was changing as well. In the dark room she could hear David's breathing becoming erratic. Faster and louder. She witnessed his silhouette on the bed lean forward, his arms drop down to the floor.
"Go! Shut the door!
David's voice was eerie, somwhow disorted.
Leave me!" he called out. It was a sound like nothing she knew him to make as a young man.
Crissa diligently stepped backwards until she was out of the room. She quickly shut the door as he directed. She then remained motionless behind it, her heart pounding.
She suddenly could hear the breathing inside, now more like panting. It had come closer, just on the other side of the barrier which separated them. Then came the clicking of claws on the wooden floor as David, now perceptibly on all fours, ran about the room trying to find his way out.
It took all of her courage and love to slowly open the door. And when she did the light from the main room and hallway illuminated the large animal--poised to run, framed in the doorway.
"David . . ."
She boldly put out a hand and waited as the wolf waited too, then came forward cautiously. It perceptively understood Crissa meant him no harm. And after a few frozen moments while Crissa looked into its eyes and tried to communicate a peacefulness, the animal seemed to get its bearings--its identity of being somehow in two worlds.
The wolf now clearly as David, came forward and lowered its head for Crissa to stroke. As before with the change, she sat on the floor and allowed him to come near her. It was a touching moment for her as the wolf lifted his head up under her stokes, sniffed the air near her and gently licked her hand.
At that moment, there was a distant and haunting wail outside of the cabin, and at a considerable distance. It was the unmistakable sound of wolf calls piercing the early evening, anticipating a waxing and robust moon. David rose onto all fours and walked through the hallway toward the front door, still ajar. He poked his nose into the gap and with a front paw opened it further.
"David . . . don't go!" Crissa tearfully cried.
He turned once and looked back at her before stepping through the opening to disappear. His eyes were kind. Piercing. And full of promise to return."
* * *