Chapter 3 - Wilf
I’m out and running before five.
I’ve been out on the ridge before five all week.
It’s not really what Connor wants or has put in place.
He’s been tightening up the rota for weeks now after Dina highlighted the gaps in our defensive patrols and made it clear that solo runs weren’t a good idea at the moment.
I nodded along the way you do when you’ve heard something but intend to do something completely different.
I’ve been out on my solo runs ever since.
Connor hasn’t said anything about it. I think he knows I need it.
I think he knows I wouldn’t listen right now.
The truth is, I don’t know what to do with myself around town or even my pack.
The cabin feels quiet in a way that’s making me restless at night, and when I do go into town for supplies, I can feel people watching me, not unkindly, just confused.
It’s like the lottery has them rattled, too, but no one wants to admit it.
So, I get up early, make my coffee, and head out into the woods.
The woods don’t ask questions I can’t answer.
If I run enough before I meet up with the main patrol, I can fake some semblance of being settled.
My wolf has been off, too. Nothing I can’t handle; he’s just as restless as my human side.
He doesn’t care the same way about fitting in; he’s always been happy to live on the periphery.
He doesn’t care about my dad being a low-down criminal who ripped off half the pack and then left, but something about the lottery seems to have thrown him, too.
Like he’s finally feeling the sting of rejection for the first time.
In my experience, the cure for a rattled wolf is to give him something to do, so I shift at the edge of the clearing and head west out onto the ridge.
For the first hour, it seems to be working, and he’s quieter than he’s been all night.
The ridge curves up through the older pines here and then flattens along the granite spine that gives this area its name.
This is my world, the only one I’ve ever really known.
I work the line before dipping back down into the pines.
Cheslem rogues have been fairly quiet recently, but they’re not gone, and there’s just enough activity this last month to know the small group who took Dina is regrouping.
Connor and Dina have tightened the rota, pulling Ethan in from the northern line, and he’s got Bryan finding ways to double up so our patrols overlap more.
He’s got the new recruit, Joss, shadowing him—just a kid but so full of enthusiasm it could almost be infectious if it weren’t so annoying.
Everyone is on high alert, but nothing is happening. I almost wish it would, so my wolf could focus on something else.
I’m passing the second of my own security markers when I catch the trail.
It hits me mid-stride, and I pull up suddenly, lowering my muzzle to the ground and taking a deep breath…human and female.
The scent is strangely masked, but my wolf takes the time to breathe the scent in properly. Garlic and herbs, it’s a heady mix, and my wolf recoils from the conflicting scents, but underneath, it’s there, undeniably human. Undeniably female.
She’s clearly trying to mask her scent, and it’s almost working. It’s clever, and whoever it is clearly knows enough about wolves to at least try to move undetected.
I cast around for the line of scent. It moves up the slope, then off to the side, and then doubles back on itself.
I find a few random tracks, but again, those have been disguised.
The trail seems to go east, loop down the slope, and then appears again further up.
The freshest part of the trail is recent, maybe within the hour.
Whoever it is, is awake and moving. Working a system.
I find more prints in a damp patch of soil and notice that one foot appears to be dragging slightly—is she injured?
I decide to follow, but as I move onto the deer track, I detect an entirely different scent.
Wolves.
Three, maybe four, and most importantly, not pack. The smell is all wrong and not something I’ve detected since the last Cheslem attack. It’s a fainter version, not one I recognize individually, but I’ve no doubt they are rogues.
I crouch down again and check the direction.
They seem to have come in from the east, crossing the ridge above me before dropping down and following the woman’s trail.
They’re working as a hunting pack, spread out but moving on a defined target, the gap between them closing.
They probably keep losing the trail as it’s well disguised, but then pick it up again.
She’s slowing them down, but they’re not stopping.
I sit back for a moment, considering my next move.
I should call this in immediately and bring in the team—that’s the protocol.
The patrol will be about forty minutes out, but they’d want to be on this, capture or kill.
We can’t have rogues out here hunting. But I’m not sure this human female for another forty minutes.
Her trail was better concealed in the earlier sections; now she’s clearly dragging her foot and not doing as many maneuvers to disguise her path.
If someone doesn’t intervene, it ends only one way. I can’t see rogues wanting a human female for any good reason.
The odds aren’t in my favor. Four rogues isn’t a fight I’d suggest anyone take on. However, this is my world out here, and they are still spread out, maintaining their formation.
Decision made, I move.
I work the slope, taking the upper slope first, staying fast and low. The wolves are downwind of me, which means they won’t sense me coming, especially if their attention is focused elsewhere. I find the first pair just as I round the bend.
They’re moving along the deer trail about half a mile from where I last detected the human.
Their noses are to the ground, neither paying much attention to anything but their hunt.
They look small for rogues, lean and undisciplined.
I’m about to move into position when something catches my eye.
The bigger one has something around his neck that catches the light.
I hesitate for a second, knowing how much they love to use magic, but I’m committed now.
I decide to take the smaller one first.
He doesn’t see me coming. There’s a brief moment where his head comes up as if instinctively alarmed, but then I’m on him, his throat in my mouth, and he doesn’t even have a chance to form a coherent thought before he’s dead.
The bigger one in front rears back, snarling and coming at me low.
He’s big, but I’m bigger, and he’s already losing before he’s even really in the fight.
He comes at me from the most obvious angle, but I shoulder past him and sink my teeth into his neck.
Putting my full weight into it, I push him down the slope.
He fights longer than I expected him to, but still goes down.
I stand over him, panting with his blood in my mouth, and scan the treeline. I picked up the scent of three or four rogues, and they will have no doubt heard this attack, which means they’ll do one of two things. Turn back to fight or run.
I pause, waiting to see which it will be. A minute passes, then two. The forest falls silent. Suddenly, I spot a blur heading straight out onto the ridge. Just one wolf, running at speed. Retreating. Not four wolves in total, just three, and this one is going hard, probably for reinforcements.
I watch him disappear into the distance and shift, picking up the small shiny disc at the wolf's throat. I run my fingers over the symbols but don’t recognize them. The angled lines are clearly a scored sigil, protection maybe? It certainly didn’t do them any good.
But it feels significant. I know Luna’s witch friends will want to see it, so I take the talisman and then go back to get the other one from the smaller rogue's body. The silence in the forest feels absolute, and I listen for signs of the woman we all seem to be tracking, but there’s nothing.
If she has any sense, she’ll take this opportunity to get off the mountain.
I take a breath, trying to catch her scent, and it tilts uphill, moving faster.
She’s picking up pace despite her injury, which is a good sign.
I consider going after her.
My wolf wants to, almost like he feels the pull of the mystery.
What is she doing out here? Why were these rogues chasing her?
Not that rogues would need a reason to go after a lone female; that’s definitely their MO.
But I push down those thoughts and consider the facts in front of me: I’ve got two weird-looking talismans taken off wolves that smell like Cheslem, and at least three wolves came into our territory hunting.
That’s a pack matter and more important than any human in the forest—hell, she’s probably one of those city types who thinks hiking is a good idea.
Hopefully, she’s had a lucky escape and doesn’t come back.
Luna and Nick need to see these. Connor needs to update the patrols regarding the runner, and the teams need to be updated before they come out on patrol blind because there could be more rogues out here.
If I go after the woman now, I’d be turning my back on the protocols that keep the pack safe.
I can’t put a stranger ahead of the pack, even if turning away doesn’t feel quite right.
The human has done well so far, and she clearly does know what she’s doing.
The proof is at my feet—these two have been tracking her all night, and although they were gaining, she was evading them better than any human I’ve met.
With them taken care of, she’ll be on her way, I’m sure.
She just needed a helping hand. Which she got.
I deal with the bodies the way we’re told to by dragging them clear of the line and dropping them off the granite ridge into the thick pines below—they’ll be taken care of by the forest within 48 hours.
The pack doesn’t burn the rogue dead due to the risk of residual dark magic.
I head back and scuff the deer trail, covering the blood with fresh debris and leaving some stone markers in case Connor wants to check the scene.
Grabbing the talismans, I consider putting them around my neck so I can shift and run back, but I don’t want to risk wearing them without knowing what sick shit the rogues are into now, so I hold them and set off on foot.
Luckily, when I dropped back down, it took me almost back to the crossroads that sit above my property line, so I jog back.
My wolf feels quiet now, and I’ve got to admit, the violence helped—an honest pair of clean kills, something he could sink his teeth into instead of thinking about problems we can’t do anything about.
I throw the talismans onto my kitchen island and find a fresh pair of sweats before calling Connor. He picks up on the second ring, and I can tell from the background noise that his house is wide awake.
“What have you got?” He says, knowing I’d only call at this time if it was important.
I put the coffee on absentmindedly as I run a hand over my three-day stubble. “Out on the ridge, about three miles from my place, Cheslem activity heading west. I took down two of them, but one made a clean run for it.”
There’s a pause, and I know he’s doing that thing where he processes information before he reacts. “Anything else?”
“There was a human. Female. They seem to have been tracking her.” I tell him.
Another pause from Connor, longer this time.
“Ok, where is she now?”
“Moving. She’s clearly trained, maybe a hiker. I didn’t go after her because if she’s got any sense, she’ll get off the mountain now. The rogues were wearing some weird talismans. I figure Luna and her witch friends need to look at these and fast.”
“Talismans.” Connor repeats, “That’s all we need. I’ll get Luna and Nick up to speed, you can in as fast as you can, and I’ll have the team ready to go.”
“Will do,” I say.
I’m about to hang up when he stops me, “Wilf.”
“Yeah,” I reply, knowing exactly what is coming.
“You shouldn’t be out there solo; the protocols are in place for a reason.” He reminds me.
“I know,” I say, no apology.
“Yeah, I know you know.” He laughs, “Good job.”
He hangs up before I can say anything else, which feels more like a kindness than anything else.
I pour the coffee before heading to the closet to find a clean shirt and pocket the talismans again, trying to ignore how strangely light and unwelcome they feel.
I drain my cup as I look out the kitchen window with a view straight up to the ridge, and I can’t help wondering if that woman is going to make it off the mountain.
Surely she has a vehicle parked up nearby if she’s a hiker?
They were hunting her for a reason; maybe she was working with them.
It wouldn’t be the first time the rogues turned on someone they’ve done business with, after all.
I know I made the right call, so I shake off the feeling.
Besides, the whole team will be all over that hillside today.
If she needs help, we’ll find her then. We don’t go running down lone humans, but we do help them if they ask.
If she needs help, she’ll still be there.
At the back of my mind, though, I remember the way she was masking her scent and running a sophisticated system to evade her hunters. I suspect the last thing she wants is any help from us.
Heading out in my truck, I turn onto the road toward town and instantly feel my wolf tense up. If he’d found any release out on the ridge, that’s long gone now. I suspect the rogues are going to give me more to focus on than myself for a while. And right now, I could do with the fight.