Hitchhikers (15 page)

“We really need to think about getting back
on the road,” Kayla says.

I swallow without chewing enough and have to
swallow a few more times to get the lump of food down my throat.
“Once I’m done we can get going.” I tear off another chunk, this
time chewing a few more times.

“Really?”

Through the mouthful I ask, “Yeah. What else
were we gonna do here?”

“By here you mean… in town?”

“Yeah. What did you mean?”

She sighs and looks toward the street through
the steam. “I meant we need to leave East Bumfuck, Nebraska, and
get home.”

“Oh.” I stare down at my sandwich. I’m kinda
not hungry all of a sudden.

Kayla sighs again, more disgusted this time.
“Look, I get it. You’re all freaked out about the werewolf thing.
It’s perfectly understandable. But…”

“But what?”

“Ever since you left, and the other packs
started harassing us, all my mom and your mom talk about is how
great you are. How you’re going to save us all. So I track you
down, expecting to find some great warrior, and all I come up with
is some self-centered kid who doesn’t know how to take care of
himself, never mind use his God-given powers to help anyone else.”
Kayla sighs one final time and gets up and disappears on the other
side of the steam.

Now I’m really not hungry. But I know better
than to throw away good food. I wrap the rest of the sandwich and
put it in my pocket. All the time I hear her voice in my head

some self-centered kid … doesn’t know how to
take care of himself

When I walk through the cloud, I feel wetness
on my face. I tell myself it’s the condensation and I wipe it away
before it freezes to my cheeks.

The dark and cold press in on us. We huddle
inside our layers and scarves, and the darkness cuts us off from
everything around. It’s worse walking back, not only because I’m
damp from the condensation but also because we’re facing into the
wind. My eyes are narrowed so much that most of the time I’m
walking they’re closed, and I find my way by the sound of Kayla
crunching through snow ahead of me and the odd assortment of scents
from her second hand clothes.

The wind changes direction slightly so it’s
scouring the right side of my face instead of dead on, and that’s
when alarm bells start ringing in my head.

I can smell them.

They’re close.

nausea

I double over, my muscles singing with
tension.

(Daniel, stay with me)

Gagging, sour bile filling my mouth.

(Do you smell that?)

(Yes)

I double over further, my vision blurring

dizzy

Blinking furiously to keep the sudden sweat
out of my eyes, to try to see.

(Take off your clothes)

I’m not sure I can even move, my fingers feel
strangely short and unbendable. Hands, Kayla’s hands, her breath
hot and sweet in my face, fumble with the zippers.

A low whining fills the air, and I realize
it’s me.

It’s only a matter of time before the

blackness

(stay with me, dammit, stay here with me)

Everything is darker. I rip my shoulders free
of the jacket and the vest. It all feels uncomfortably small in my
shoulders and too big in my waist. My pants fall to the ground
while Kayla is still trying to unbutton my shirt.

The world is fading in and out and that smell
is filling my nostrils, every time I inhale I see red and black and
a new wave of nausea rolls over me. I’m growling and whining
because I can’t make any words come out of my mouth, and the fur on
the back of my neck is stiff like an extension of my tense
muscles.

(I have fur on the back of my neck and my
mouth feels weird, too big and crowded)

blackness pulsing

(stay with me, just a few seconds)

Finally Kayla gives up on the buttons, the
backs of her hands covered in butterscotch colored hair. She grips
my shirt and rips it off.

I don’t want to look down and I can’t anyway.
I fall to the ground, bracing myself up in the snow with my bare
hands

(why don’t I feel cold?)

The blackness is crowding around the edges of
my vision. I try to focus on my hands, but they’re moving. Growing,
curling, hair sprouting.

This is everything I never allowed myself to
see. All those times I killed people, this is what happened. My
arms straighten out involuntarily and my joints seem to turn
backwards.

Beside me, Kayla’s clothes drop to the
ground.

(They’re nearly here, now Daniel NOW)

The scent hits me. Eight wolves. My brain
takes a sudden backseat to the darkness.

(Daniel control your wolf)

I’m racing, paws flying over the snow, which
has crusted over enough in the subzero temperatures to hold my
weight. I can smell them in front of me, blood and sweat and fear
and for a moment I’m not sure I’m going stay here instead of
slipping back into that pit of blackness. There are fewer of them
now but it’s a little harder to tell, the scents are everywhere.
The scent of death.

(Kayla!)

I slow down. The minute I think about how my
human body might have slowed down, leaning back and digging in my
heels, my wolf body slips on the icy snow and slides.

scrabble claw tumble stop

It’s a weird feeling, to have arms and legs
that don’t move like they should. My brain can’t wrap itself around
that.

(Don’t think)

I lift my head and

sniff listen

for Kayla. She’s there. Cleaning up. Blood
pricks my nose,

tangy copper death

I have to get back to help her. Her blood is
mixed in there, although I can feel her heartbeat connected with
mine, beating like we are one. Her heart is beating, strong and
sure. My legs, however, don’t want to cooperate with me.

(Don’t think about it. Just go. Just pick
your destination and go.)

I focus on Kayla and sure enough, my body
figures out how to move itself. Faster and faster until I can see
her, caramel fur against the white darkness.

Then faster still, until I am by her
side.

There’s blood everywhere. Hunks of fur, wolf
legs, some looking suspiciously humanoid. I’m panting and coughing
every few breaths to get the stink out of my nose, but I think it’s
there to stay. Kayla

(Lila)

is just standing there, looking at me.

(That was…)

(crazy)

She’s bleeding. I’m at her side and licking
at her before I can think anything about unsanitary or hunger or
anything human. The wolf knows that licking a wound helps stop the
blood. It’s her neck. One of them got her neck. I growl.

(It’s no big deal, just a nip)

(I should have stopped them faster)

(You were amazing)

Then she does that thing again, where I’m
flooded with warmth and good and my heart slows and my eyes slide
to half mast.

Funny thing is that this also gives me the
irresistible urge to pee.

While I’m marking my territory

(my kills MINE)

Kayla’s changing. I watch with blissful
interest as the fur fades into her golden, smooth skin. She makes
it look so graceful. One moment she’s a wolf, the next she’s a
woman.

(she’s my cousin)

(I can still hear you, you know)

I choke off my thoughts and try to shake them
out of my head. Some other kind of happy feelings are racing around
and they make me want to hump Kayla’s leg.

(Try changing back now, Daniel)

Her voice in my head is smiling.

I turn away and try to push my humanness out.
I have no idea how to do it. My pelt suddenly feels like it’s too
hot, too tight. I glare at my paws. Why aren’t they shifting?

(close your eyes)

I oblige.

(see yourself, your human self)

Drawing a blank. I barely know what I look
like. When was the last time I really looked at myself in a mirror?
Dark brown hair, too long. Brown eyes. Pale. Skinny.

I keep seeing Kayla as she unfurled
herself.

Growls emerge from my throat. I grind myself
into the snow. Damn fur is too hot. I’m agitated. Why is this so
hard? I’ve done this a million times before, only I don’t remember
it.

(take a deep breath. Let it melt away)

I suck in some air. Close my eyes. Imagine
the fur melting off and revealing my human self. Cold air rushing
in. It’s a relief for about two seconds and then the cold robs my
breath away.

“Why did we h-have to change b-back?” I
ask.

Kayla laughs through her chattering teeth.
“Look.” She’s pointing at one of the more humanoid bodies. “We
can’t leave this for the humans to find.”

“What do we do?”

“Burn it.”

“With what?” I gesture around. “All we’ve
g-got is snow and ice.”

“There’s a lighter in the backpack.”

I glance around, looking for our stuff. I
don’t see it anywhere. My nose sniffs out our trail, but my human
eyes don’t allow me to see too far into the distance on this
moonless night. “Where is our stuff.”

“About two miles thataway.”

A vicious shiver rips through my body. “Why
the fuck did we change then? Makes no sense. We can’t walk two
miles through the snow like this.”

“You need practice.”

“P-practice walking through the snow
naked?”

“No, practice changing. Hurry up, I’m
freezing my ass off.”

She wants me to change back into a wolf. I
stand there, wondering how to even begin. It’s one thing when I’m
feeling dizzy and nauseous and angry to just turn myself over to
the wolf. But now? I’m cold and I can’t feel my feet.

“What’s the hold up?” she asks.

“I don’t–I have no idea how to start it,” I
say. “I’ve never tried to make it happen. It just happens, and I
usually try to stop it. What do I do?”

She steps closer to me, and I instinctively
step away. We’re both naked. What is she doing?

“Don’t move away,” she says. She steps up to
me and puts her arms around me.

The back side of me is turning almost as numb
as my feet, but suddenly my front side is all kinds of warm. I lock
my hands around her back, press my face into her hair. We shiver in
unison.

(you have to change or we’re both going to
die)

(I can’t do it I have no idea how to do
it)

(let me know how this works)

She gives me her good feelings again, only
this time it feels like she was holding back those other times. I’m
instantly hard and flushed and jittery. My fingers dig into her
back.

(let yourself go)

(it’s not that easy!)

I’m waiting for those symptoms that tell me
the wolf is clawing at my door, but there is no nausea. I’m not
dizzy. I’m just stepping back and

fur fangs snow death blood

Kayla has melted into a wolf in the next
heartbeat. She makes it look so easy. Her forelegs bow down, but I
know she’s not bowing to me. It’s not subservience but

play

And I’m bounding after her, no thoughts
just

warm female lilacs run mate

Kayla and I stumble back to the warehouse,
clinging to each other. We don’t bother taking off our coats; we
are nearly frozen. The blanket goes around us and we huddle closer
together, making a tiny warm space with our breath under the
covers.

Our clothes, when we had found them lying in
the snow, were frozen into stiff shapes that we had to shake out,
chattering our teeth and breathing clouds into the air. Giggling.
We were laughing at each other’s nakedness, the weird way our
clothes had frozen and how mine were mangled. My undershirts now
flap against my skin where the seams ripped, the buttons gone. The
laces in my boots had snapped, and now I kick them easily off my
feet and curl my toes up under the blanket.

Without words, Kayla and I draw closer,
pressing ourselves against each other, warmth rising. She smells
cold and clean, pure and wild, that faint lilac scent musky and
inviting. Our lips touch – hers are wet and warm, mine chapped and
cold. The scents are stronger, piney forest and earth, a flower
ready to bloom. Her fingers find the gaps between my clothes and my
skin, and guide my hands to do the same. My rough hands travel over
her smooth body, hovering over the cold places until they warm to
my touch.

It becomes a game, a push and pull. I am
hesitant to hurt her, and she takes advantage and pins me to the
bed. Her hair tickles my face, breath clouding the cold air between
us.

Smiling, she leans in.

When she is only an inch from my face, I
lurch up and nip her on the nose. She growls, smiling, and her
mouth presses against mine.

A new kind of hunger takes over me, and all
it craves is her skin on my mine. I want to be inside of her
clothes, inside of her. My shredded pants are too tight. As if
sensing this, she rips at my shirt with her hands, and with her
legs wrapped about my torso, she uses her feet to push my jeans off
my hips.

My mouth finds that small cut on her neck,
made by a claw and not teeth. It tastes like copper and salt. She
pulls back and looks at me. Then she grins, grabs two fistfuls of
my hair, smashes her forehead to mine.

Her hands move down my face, my neck, over my
shoulders, and grip my arms.

(you killed them you killed them for me)

I tighten my grip on her. Press my face into
her neck. I want to hold onto this feeling, this idea that someone
might care about me, and never let it go.

We are still lying in each other’s embrace
when Candi arrives home, announcing her entrance with a gust of
cold air and a slanted ray of sunshine.

“Well, don’t you two look cozy,” she
sneers.