Chapter 14 Reed
REED
When I left college, I thought my choices would be to get an entry-level job and work my way up the ranks or test my entrepreneurial skills and launch a startup.
Now, my only choice is to become a hostage or wolf chow.
The beady, glow-in-the-dark eyes of the hungry-seeming wolf don’t leave my face, not even when the unknown caller comes up behind me and slows to a stop.
Stuck between a rock and a hard place has never been truer.
“There are more of them,” the man says, scaring me with the low scrape of his words.
“Wh-what?” I ask. “How do you know?”
“Night vision goggles,” he says.
“Cheater,” I say, though that’s not my primary concern at present.
The wolf has not closed any of the distance between us.
If anything, the talking seems to be deterring it.
Maybe it’s more scared of me than I am of it.
Sadly, I don’t have claws and fangs to project false bravery with.
I don’t think wolves consider muscle mass a deterrent when choosing who to bite.
“I like to think of it as resourceful,” the unknown caller says, sounding too boastful for the situation.
I’m stilled by fear. “How do I know you’re not lying?”
His statement could be a snare all its own. It might be a ploy to get me to go back inside with him so he can tie me up and kill me himself.
“I’m not lying,” he says.
“Because I’m just supposed to trust the man who’s been harassing me all night,” I say, not breaking eye contact with the wolf for fear it might advance.
Other wolves appear in my periphery. More pairs of yellow torches.
Sounds that register somewhere between a howl and a snarl break out.
They must be deciding whether I’m a friend or a foe.
Outside of putting my hands up in surrender, I’m at a total loss for how to show that I’m no one, nothing. I probably wouldn’t even taste good.
“Harassing you?” the unknown caller asks. “I thought we were having fun.” The smile is obvious in his words. Makes me want to punch him square in that stupidly defined jaw, evident even beneath his mask.
“You have a fucked-up definition of fun,” I say, breath catching.
He chuckles. “You don’t even know the half of it.”
Why doesn’t he seem concerned? There’s a pack of wolves nearby. Due to his mass, one of them might not be able to take him down alone, but three or four could probably do the trick.
“They killed an elk near the edge of the property. They don’t like their mealtimes intruded on,” he says more forcefully now that some of the others are moving in with curiosity. “Don’t break eye contact, stand up as tall as you can, and start clapping.”
“Clapping?” I ask, confused.
“Yelling too. Be aggressive,” he says, voice pitching up for a moment like he’s been putting on a deeper, gruffer voice this whole time.
Like he’s been playing a role. Something in the higher tone sounds familiar, but I shove that thought to the side.
I could be torn to shreds if I’m not careful and focused.
“That sounds like terrible advice. Like the opposite of what I’m supposed to do,” I say.
There’s a slight pause before he says, “It would be much easier to let them take care of you than have to deal with you myself.”
His words tornado around in my head, making me dizzier.
My fear has already made me unsteady on my feet.
With another human, I’d happily throw hands or swing a hammer, but this wolf can’t be reasoned with.
It might take a swing as an impetus to rush me.
I can’t know what it’s thinking, or if it has rabies.
I don’t want to hurt it. But if it’s him or me, I’m going to choose me.
Every time. I’m nothing if not a survivor.
“Reed,” the unknown caller says in a voice that, once again, I swear I’ve heard before.
At the top of his lungs, the unknown caller sings Johnny Cash and claps his gloved hands.
The nearest wolf’s ears perk up at the unfamiliar noises.
Its eyes flick away to the others, and within seconds, it’s turning back and running off.
The whole pack follows. Paws thump against the hard ground. Howls crackle through the night.
How could something that looked so scary be all bark and no bite?
The unknown caller just saved me.
Could he also be all bark and no—
A huge hand slaps hard over my mouth. An arm wraps all the way around me, taking my feet out from under me. My brain is already not getting enough oxygen. Any attempt to fight back fizzles out in my neurons before it reaches my tired muscles.
This time, it’s as if the unknown caller pulled the off switch on my own personal power box. My limbs go limp, my vision goes dark, and I have no idea what he plans to do with me as he hauls me back into the house that I don’t think I ever should’ve come to.