I saw blood spilling out of her head before her body hit the ground. Its colour was unlike any human blood. Deep red could be mistaken for black. My gaze wandered to where the shot came from. To my right stood Rory with a gun in hand. Behind her, the sun was pointing his nose. Each time I thought she was done surprising me, she went and shocked the living daylight out of me. Ashley's body was now laying motionless at our feet. She was in a better place, hopefully. Her glassy and lifeless eyes broke my heart. I could not help but gawk at her corpse. It was a morbid display. At least I know she had a less painful death than decapitation.
None of us made a single movement. It was Rory and the overgrown canines that buried her while we stood discombobulated. They dug the hole - Loki and Thor - while Buttercup carved a memento on the tree they chose to dig aside too. Rory kneeled in front of the finished grave. I did not know what was the hardest to believe Ash's death or that my love bug just killed someone.
︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶
The death of Ashley hit the small gathering hard. I waited until it was brighter to lead us away from the metropolis. While they mourned her death, I made a quick round check of my luggage. The wolves' backpacks had two big pouches - resting on each side of their flank - with more pockets. That added up to four storage sacks. One was dedicated to food and water containers. Two were for camping supplies and accommodated the brain jars. Another was for weapons and such. And the last boasted medical supplies. I prided myself on being well-equipped for all instances.
Thirty minutes passed since the sun had fully risen, and we had to start our trip. If we wanted to make the most of the day. They were all distressed. I tried talking to them, sadly my words went in one ear and out of the other. I had to usher Akira and a trembling Caspian onto the backs of the pups. Thus, we travelled in silence. Don and me leading the troops. Don did not speak to me, and I didn't initiate any conversation. He was mourning a friend, and I wanted to respect his grieving process. The itinerary to the camping grounds was etched into my memory. For good measure, I also memorized the alternative routes on the map if we ever needed to take a detour. Every two hours, I rotated the ones riding Thor and Loki, leaving one hour of rest for them in between.
I was not used to the quietness. Everyone back home was talkative, and we all loved to chat - about everything and anything. There were no dull moments. Be it the creative blabber of the kids or the late-night talks over a glass of wine. Also, I often communicated with the wolves, we understood each other in quite a peculiar fashion. It was fascinating. No words needed to be spoken, only emotions and intentions. Some would describe it as empathy, and I would concur with that. Our faculty to convey between us was a great advantage when hunting or during our expeditions. It could also be very annoying. Loki was not happy to be treated like a mule and made Thor, and I know just how much he hated it. We let him sulk while we kept an eye out for food on legs - well, in my case, it was ears out.
The sun soon came to its zenith, and a much-needed break was like an offering from the gods. Like puppets, my companions made themselves comfortable on the sidewalk and ate on autopilot. The area was extremely calm. Birds were chirping in the naked trees framing the streets. Paths leading to the houses were plagued with dead weeds and wildflowers. The houses themselves weren't in a better state; they were in such disrepair. Some had plants growing on their roof and gutters. Others had been impaled with tree branches or telephone poles.
I couldn't help being curious. Maybe we could find something useful there. But a quick look at the pleading wolves, who had not eaten so far today, and I knew we had more than enough with us to survive. There was no need to collect more things along the way. I let out a small sigh. This tendency of wanting to always be prepared was, most of the time, a gift - but sometimes I had a hard time stopping myself from being engrossed in it. Prioritizing the wellbeing of my entourage was my utmost aim. The two hungry carnivores got on their merry way to find their lunch while we stayed here. Come back right after you finish eating! Was what I asked of them if we put it into words. I watched them disappear before looking at the lethargic humans sitting on the pavement.
They barely touched what was left of their rations. I thought about sharing Ashley's portion between us, but decided against it. It would be emergency food instead. Her peers had an already hard time stomaching their food. Another sigh left my lips. This is going to be a loooooong journey!
︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶
For someone introverted, I felt like a fraud. I wanted badly to converse with Don at that instant - more like all day-after all, it felt like ages since I last saw him. While we ate lunch, I tried to lure the people travelling with my humble self, but in vain. They did not utter a word. At most, they grunted in response to my asking if they needed to relieve themselves before we had to move. It didn't help that my furry friends wandered around during our afternoon journey. They never went too far, so I could still feel them near, but they still enjoyed their moment of liberty. They may have been more domesticated than wild wolves, but they were still independent creatures of Mother Nature. More inclined to their animalistic instincts than ours, blissfully unaffected by human standards, even when living with them. I found it much more endearing than having them on a leash. Having that kind of control over them would - in my opinion - be like parading a lion in a circus. I would've felt like I robbed them of their lives by handling them like dolls.
Since they are nothing like dogs, not as docile - although they have the characteristic loyalty. The wolves are in much more need of an alpha figure. Someone should keep them in check when they cross boundaries. Much like when they are in packs. Rogue wolves or even dogs with no figure of authority were far more aggressive - not always, but often. At first, when I fell upon those two, it was quite challenging to uphold the role of leader. On the contrary, to the man's best friend, wolves couldn't be told no in a semi-angry tone. Not that it worked on dogs in the first place. They needed to know that misbehaving came with consequences. In a pack, the alpha would physically confront his rambunctious pack mates to make them submit to his quote rules. Which, in my case, happened to be a bit tricky. I was far from being mighty and strong enough to hold my own against two Herculean wolves. I, instead, had to make use of my wits and agility. With pepper spray; studying wolf anatomy, acupuncture points and pressure points; and a whole lot of guesses and tests, I achieved raising two energetic pups into two equally energetic but amiable wolves.
The more we advanced, the more scarce the buildings became. When it was time to stop for the day, we made our way to a secluded old wooden shack near the road, trees hiding it. The remains of the small barn would do nicely for tonight. It seemed solid enough to hold above our heads without crumbling down.
Loki and Thor had yet to make their way back to us. I hesitated to ask my companions to help me build a fire to warm us and maybe cook an animal if I had time to look for prey to hunt. Astonishingly, they were all mindlessly looking for wood. What a discomforting image! They function like empty shells. I saw infected eating a man alive, but this particular scene scared me more. I just hope they overcome whatever they are going through. I might not have known them for long, but it would make me sad to see any more of them go. Don cared for those people. That was the only thing that mattered to me.
My travelling group settled around the fire once it was lit. I took it as my cue to roam the surroundings for living food. My steps took me further into a more luscious timberland. A soft breeze blew through the stiff branches devoid of leaves. The air was crisp, with an underlying wet smell thick with earthy tones. While looking for animal trails, I came across fairly old prints of boots in the slightly frozen mud and forest rubbish. The print could only be of a man's boots, lengthy and seizable.
The more I advanced in the forest, the more the smell changed. Notes of pine married the initial earthy tones. The occupants of the forest sang louder than at the edges of their abode. My ears flickered as I heard heavy steps in a succession of fourfold. Sensing the familiar presence of my pups brightens my mood. Their pace fastened in my direction. Two regal beasts ready to scent me furiously jumped at me. As per usual reunions, they rubbed their heads against my body while I scratched the backs of their ears.
Promptly, as we piped down our greeting, I noticed inanimate fleece balls in their powerful maws. I felt overjoyed with their gifts; they could be so sweet. Providing me with things I didn't ask for simply to incite glee - and lots of playful petting, I am sure - from me. Loki and Thor, being such chaste beings, made a perfect extension of our family. I found them with their departed mother in the wilderness surrounding my estate. Their unusual size at first alarmed me, but after observing their too-thin bodies and hearing breathless yelps, the mother in me couldn't leave them to die. So I brought them home and nurtured the puppies, nothing that I hadn't done before. I counted my blessings each day for having them with me. They were like a striking rainbow after the rain.
As tempted as I was to follow them to our shelter for the night, the human footprints unsettled me. What if they see the smoke and make their way to us? What if they have questionable intentions? I'd rather be the predator than the prey. Sitting and waiting to meet my fate, I will not.
Patting one last time Loki and Thor, I thereafter stalked closely the uncanny tracks while my two furry companions made their way to our settlement. My eyes were glued to the ground, momentarily, I had to lift them, to not run into any obstacles in my way. What was a pair of prints became two pairs. They were very distinct. One sank deep in the sludge, while the other seemed to skim the then slushy earth. I came across what were undeniably remnants of bivouacs. Tin cans littered the forest grounds, along with small animal carcasses, charcoals, and rudimental dwellings. The individuals installed traps for the quarry and larger beasts. It raised a brow. Why would two people with very basic pieces of equipment need traps for large animals so close to the city? Maybe examining the traps could give me a hint about what they use them for. So as I travelled with the tracks, I paid special care to the snares, blending with the environment as best they could.
A deafening snarl prickled my sensitive ears, almost bursting my eardrums. My breath picked up as well as my heartbeat, and my throat felt tight as an urge to rumble came over me. An inexplicable smouldering weight fell upon my chest, consuming its way up to my face. By now the sun was setting, and I was so enthralled in my search that I hadn't acknowledged my environs. That noise brutally brought me out of a state of trance.
I raced towards the pull in my gut, navigating the land as if I knew it like the back of my hand. I was almost certain the blaze of the anger I felt burned its way to each of my steps and set the forest on fire in my path. My heavy breaths escaped my lips like smoke out of a dragon's nostrils as the degrees dropped to allow the frigid air to soar. To swallow the growl and avoid letting it out, my teeth clenched, and my mind went to the meditation exercises I regularly do. Counting my intake and output of air eased the anger devouring my mind. Inhale. Exhale. One. Inhale. Exhale. Two.
While it helped to keep the implosion at bay, it did not put a stop to it, nor did it help my anxiety. The distinct roof of the old shack we chose came into sight. My chaotic respirations mellowed with solace when chatter whispered in my ears. Reining in my fiery mood for a neutral expression. When I was feet away from my party, my first reflex was to swiftly assess the area. Two unknown people stood on my left, with a spacious gap; a buffed male and a dainty woman. My second reflex, was to leap and hug Don.
"Don!" As I clung to his side, rested my head on his chest. I lifted my eyes to meet his delighted, yet surprised face, my gaze piercing and serious expression plastered on. I muttered to him: Don't let your guard down. Don't trust! His expression didn't falter as he reciprocated the embrace while soothingly patting my back.
"What happened?" Don played along. I gently shook my shoulder, hinting that I was crying. Don's big arms scooped me up. I wrapped my legs and arms around him.
"They hunt humans." That was all I added, my lips against his ear, before babbling incoherent words.