My path led to small cottage plots located in the forest next to Lovell. So they were called by the inhabitants of Lovell - cottage plots, cottage village. And the locals called their house a reservation. If they had any Indian roots, they were very distant. They were not reflected externally, but were partially present in their worldview.
It was there that my Aunt Sarah lived, along with those who, reluctantly, called themselves my "family." I once lived too.
I pulled up at Lovell's post office. This is a mandatory item for me before going to the reservation. She glanced at the small diner, which was in the same one-story building as the post office. But, as much as I would like to delay the inevitable, there was no time. It would be warm, there would be one-legged plastic tables between the post office and the diner, and local elderly, and not very gossips, would collect fresh gossip from the front rows. But now it's January, which means that the weather is unpleasant even for the locals. Fierce wind and snow in shifts with drizzle.
On the second try, I was able to close my old maroon Honda, which I still affectionately called Cherry. After a long journey, she did not live up to her name - the entire bottom was covered with a dense layer of dirt. I need to be a more caring hostess.
The post office was quiet and empty. Four o'clock is the end of the working day. Around seven this town will calm down until morning. Inside, at one of the three computer desks, a teenager in large headphones was sitting, he did not pay any attention to the loud slamming of the door behind me. I stomped at the entrance, shaking the snow off my feet, and went straight to the mailboxes where my aunt and I rented a box. The postman leaned over the counter to get a better look at me.
"Good evening," I nodded to him. Mr. Collins nodded hesitantly, scrutinizing me carefully. He has aged noticeably since I last saw him. But he remained true to the large-knit sweaters - manifestations of his wife's care. I remembered him well, I watched with interest the life of ordinary people. But he hardly knew my name, if he remembered at all. For them, we were all one - "these from the forest", "these cottagers", "these rangers".
Under his gaze, I felt uncomfortable. What does he think, I'll rob mailboxes with stale news and packages from more civilized places? I opened the iron door and pulled out a paper bag. Then I didn’t unpack it, I clamped it under my arm and closed the box. On the way back, nodding to Mr. Collins, I noticed that he was disappointedly following my package with a look. Took away information from him.
In the car, the package was put aside on the next seat with the hope that it would not be needed. It couldn't take longer. I sighed and pulled out onto the road towards the reservation.
They did not like strangers on their territory, they themselves rarely got out either, hence the terrible state of the roads. My old Cherry barely coped with off-road. Another blizzard! Visibility is terrible, I would like to get there before dark. Although I had Aunt Sarah's handkerchief, which she left for me at the post office in the city in case I got stuck in the woods at night, but this would be the worst option.
The wipers could no longer cope with the precipitation, at the moment when the right one completely gave up, a shadow jumped out onto the road and stopped under the blinding headlights. Deer. Silly animal! I abruptly went to the right, what can I tell you during a rain and snow on a snowy road in the middle of the forest -a bad idea. A very bad idea.
***
I woke up from a sharp pain in my arm, no, in my temples... Damn, it hurt, everything seemed to hurt! Under a mournful song from a junk radio, she examined the damage. Only one airbag worked, the hood was flattened against a hefty tree, which was slightly illuminated by the miraculously surviving left headlight. Damn it! The forest is plunged into darkness, only the snow lifted by the wind from the hood is visible outside the window.
- ... remember every fragment, every minute of our walks with you, many years ago, when we were young? .. -the radio tape recorder sang with a hiss at the border of two radio waves.
I hastily turned off the radio, the sound seemed deafening in the silence of the forest. The airbag made it difficult to unfasten the belt, the fingers barely obeyed. Freed from the belt, I pulled the door handle - damn! - jammed! Not on the first attempt, the deformed door gave in, having hardly got out of the car, I, staggering, went to the trunk. Only the hand is damaged, it's hard to say what exactly happened to it, but it's not broken. In terms of broken hands, I'm special. From a strong push, my whole body ached, but this is my least problem. I need to find Sarah's handkerchief, otherwise the inhospitable owners of these places may not recognize me.
It was not so far to go, most of them, thank God, managed to drive by car. I returned to the road - a snow-white strip, barely knurled, among dark trees. Either they had not been out in the city for a long time, or the snow had covered all the traces. The blizzard was now urging me in the back, not allowing me to change direction.
Having tied a scarf around her neck, red, by the way, as symbolically, she limped along the road. I took only a backpack with me, I didn’t have the strength for other things. Looking around nervously, I listened to the unfriendly forest. All that could be heard was the wind and my creaking footsteps. I was numb, so despite the pain in my body, I decided to run. Running is the right option for me, I run well, even in a warm jacket. Braking sharply, I looked around, a wolf choir joined the howl of the wind. What was I waiting for? I am in their territory.
I was surrounded, I changed my run to a walk so as not to provoke the hunting instinct. Did they recognize me? There was a rustle and a growl among the trees. I froze, their yellow eyes shone on both sides, a huge gray beast came out on the road in front of me, the leader is Morgan. And why are they called wolves? They don't look like wolves at all. Huge, at the withers up to my shoulder, with a muzzle more like a bear, but more sinewy, like wolves. The pounding of his heart drowned out all the surrounding sounds. Calmly, calmly. I slowly pulled the handkerchief off my neck and held it out towards Morgan. Almost a "white" flag! Smell, sniff, it's Sarin's scent. Morgan's Beast snarled towards the trees. It's true? Does that mean you know? Or fas? It seemed to me that the rest supported the dissatisfied howl, but they stopped growling. Retreat.
At that moment, when I already believed that I would live, a piercing howl was heard, and a second animal jumped out onto the road. It was lighter, but not inferior in size to the leader. Morgan snarled at him, but he didn't seem to hear, hypnotizing as he stalked towards me.
What the hell? Why doesn't he listen to Morgan? New? Morgan gave the command, and the others rushed to cut him off. The bright beast bristled and rushed at its own, driving them away from me. Blocking their way, he howled, the flock froze. They understood, but for me, please, subtitles. After making sure that he was not disturbed, he growled one last time and moved towards me again.
- Stop, stop, stop! - I could not stand it, - I'm Lark, Lark! I am mine! I tried to convince him.
The wolf froze for a second, listening, but did not change the target, sniffing even more. Okay, Lark, remember what that means. Why did you give him up? Morgan found out, others recognized, he did not obey, dispersed others, howled, the rest retreated, does not growl, walks, sniffs ... All the years among the pack flashed through my head, everything I knew about their rules and nature. And why was he mad?
"Hush, hush," I muttered, backing away.
And then the beast growled, seeing that the prey was leaving. To hell with you! I rushed to the side, but did not have time to run even a couple of meters, as the beast overtook me and blocked the road. He began to go around me in an arc, closing other paths - he is playing after me. I threw a backpack at him to distract him, but he only threw it away with his teeth, without stopping his dance. The distance between us was shrinking, I imperceptibly went off the road and rested my back against a tree. All dead end. I can't win. I covered my face with my hands so as not to see his face. The wolf came close to me and sniffed me. Pushing my hands away with his nose, he stared into my eyes. And howled again, so triumphantly, if you understand the wolf howl. Well now! I swung and hit, pushing away from me. He broke off the howl in an instant, and before I could exhale, he knocked me over on the cold ground. I screamed desperately flailing at random with his hands, the wounded hand was slashed by a new pain - either fangs or claws, before I could make out how the wolf's mouth dug into the neck. And then I howled.
They did not accompany me beyond the threshold of the house. I went out alone through the back door, wearing only a long poncho. I stepped on the cold ground with my bare feet and looked up at the sky. The moon has claimed its rights. Bright and round. Reed picked a great time to start the race. Oddly enough, the wolf in me was calm. Either the rut didn't work on her, or I drank too much wine. Throwing off my only robe in the shed and placing my mother's bracelet next to me, I took a deep breath and said softly before turning around: “Just not this year. And then she gave herself up to the she-wolf. I felt the thirst and desires of others. They seemed to be on fire, but their heat did not touch me. I was drawn to the forest, and I was calm. She circled the closest of her flock and rushed deep into the depths. I, as if stepped on the threshold of my native home, confident and peaceful. But there was something else. Something was waiting for me up there. Beckoning, but not demandin
— Kira! Kira, wake up!Martha's voice and an unpleasant thump on my shoulder pulled me out of a dream where I wandered through the woods in search of ... something. Listened to all my feelings, but could not find. What was I looking for? I didn’t have time to understand, because they unceremoniously woke me up in my own house, where, I can swear, I fell asleep alone.“Leave me alone,” she grumbled and hid from the intruder under a pillow.But she did not lag behind, moreover, she climbed on top of me and shook me well.No, no, you can't sleep now. I have such news!“Get off me, you annoying elephant!” She turned around and pushed her off.Then Martha crawled under the covers, looked under the pillow and put her head beside her.Pfft, so childish. Let me sleep. I don’t know what time it is, but I’m sure it’s God’s shit,” I muttered, barely moving my tongue, drifting off to sleep again.Reed approved. Mating season starts tomorrow.My eyes flew open. And it is unlikely that they had the
"No, I didn't," I grew more and more gloomy.And then, when Roca's mom treated us all to baked mutton pies in the courtyard of his house. The four of us sat at a round table - Me, Martha, Rock and Alex. Alex and I fought over the crunchiest pies, and Martha kept dreaming.“Just imagine, this year we might have a new member of the pack join us.- In terms of? Rock asked in surprise, barely chewing a huge piece of pie, which he hastily stuffed into his mouth, saving him from two gluttonous alphas.“Someone can find their mate from another pack."That's unlikely," Rock waved his hand.Why not? For example, you can get so far away from our territory by smelling your mate. So is she,” Martha smiled.“No, definitely not me.Of course not you. You're looking forward to your Beast choosing Molly, aren't you, Rock?“Maybe it will be me. Just like my Uncle Trent.I suddenly spoke up. I don't know why she said it. Yes, and remembered the father of Reed. But the expression on Alex's face explaine
I was waiting for the trial, threats. Grandma was gone, so I took her place in the rocking chair from where she usually watched the meetings, in the shade of her house. She swayed rhythmically and watched the others gather around the oak table. And she scrolled everything so that I would tell the pack if I were the leader. Probably, anger still spoke in me, but I would demand blood. I found Alex with my eyes, he also did not join the others at the table, he froze in the distance, leaning on the carved posts in the fence of my old house. And my eyes were ignored. Therefore, Ba liked to repeat - my character is not suitable for a leader. Too impulsive. Too easily emotions take over the mind. Reed appeared on the porch of the office, looked around the pack, and stopped at Lark and his son, who were sitting at the table. They took everyone, even the children. Lark looked worried, stroking her son's head, twiddling her fingers through the curls, but as soon as she caught her husband's ga
Surprisingly, the news about the new gene in the pack was perceived calmer than the close attention to us from the people from the hotel and the ban on solo outings. Let the lesser danger, but it is closer, and that makes it more frightening.I had to go to Reid, give him reports, but I continued to sit on the porch at Martha's house. We didn’t even really talk, we just worried together. There were so many things I wanted to discuss with her, but for some reason, what Ba told me, she could not pronounce. The tongue could not put together the necessary words, and in my thoughts, as if there was a taboo.“You know, I thought… If our blood can heal many people, then that’s good. We will save so many lives. They can come up with cures. Or they will develop something based on our gene, - Martha propped up her cheek with her hand and turned so that she could see me.“You will think differently when you lie on the operating table, and your blood will be pumped to the last drop. To heal a few
Dinner did take place that evening, thanks in part to Sarah's food. But much later, so Morgan pecked at the table.Although with the same success it was possible to bring that burnt meat pie to the table - no one had an appetite. Lark took Morgan to sleep in Rod's empty room, Ba moved to a chair closer to the fire in the fireplace. The others sat at the table and talked quietly, as if speaking a little louder would bring the disturbing thoughts to life.“How serious is it, Rod said?” Reed asked.- News, as always, and do not reflect half. There are several laboratories, and there are far from such peaceful purposes as they show us. And not in such peaceful ways,” said grandfather.He became even gloomier after they returned with their grandmother. And I was sure that my uncle did not tell even half, so as not to disturb the old people.He said he had suspicions. But then people failed to get on the trail of the werewolves, - Reed remained calm. - And now?He's not sure anymore. But he