Ekaterina Sedia - Running with the Pack

I lifted my nose. The spring breeze brought me the scent of the James River, even though it was ten miles distant. The Deadfall was near the river. A few miles was no matter. I set out in the wolf’s easy hunter’s lope, the night and vengeance stretched out before me.

The Deadfall was the name given to a forest clearing, older than I was, made when an enormous, ancient oak had been felled by lightning. The clearing had quickly become a beacon for the young. It was an easy hike from the road, but deep enough into the forest that even campfires were not readily visible. Lightning had struck the trunk seven feet from the ground, and the massive, ragged stump formed a kind of shelter, the humped roots a natural cluster of seats and tables, some of which had been whittled and carved to better serve those purposes. The enormous trunk sloped from the top of the stump for yards before coming to rest on the forest floor. A tarp tossed over the trunk and staked on either side made a satisfactory tent. Dogwood, wild rose, and redbud bordered the clearing, beautiful in the spring, but human use had kept the center clear of brush and saplings.

Rumor had it that the Deadfall had been a lovers’ trysting place at first, then a camping spot. For my own generation it had a more sinister reputation. Gangs like Rob and his crew gathered there to drink or do drugs or settle disputes with fists or knives. Other people stayed away then, unless they were looking for trouble.

I was looking to make trouble, so that was fine.

Rob and his friends were already drunk and noisy. I was careful anyway, but sneaking up on them was easy. I could have done it even in human shape. All three had their backs against the huge stump of the Deadfall, a good six-to-seven feet tall and at least that wide. The fallen trunk, still hanging from the top of the stump, stretched away like a broken gate to their right. It was easy to angle myself so that I could track them through the gap between the trunk and the ground. Their small fire deepened the shadows for me to hide in while it spoiled their night vision. Their firewood was too green to burn cleanly, putting up thick coils of smoke. My nose sorted the thick, layered scents of their camp: several kinds of burning wood, sharp sap and sharper lighter fluid, Wild Turkey and Budweiser, and the funk of sweat and piss.

The stink of their flesh and the sudden blare of their laughter nearly undid me, flooding me with memories so visceral that I shrank down onto the forest floor, nearly shocked backed into a girl. I bellied into the punk beneath the trunk of the Deadfall, shivering, holding tight to my wolf-shape while human memories rocked me, breathing deep the smell of ancient wood and damp humus while I remembered the stink of blood and violence.

They’d been waiting for us, Rob and his followers Lee and Jeth, hiding in the woods along a lonely stretch of Old Route 15. It was a road we’d walked together since grade school, me and Orion and his older sister Athena. But Athena had graduated and gone north to college to study pre-med. That left just ’Rion and me, a black boy with a white girl, walking and talking alone together.

I didn’t see much. There was a rush of motion when they jumped us, a rustle of grass and weeds against jean-clad legs, a muffled pounding of feet against the green verge. I had a glimpse of Rob’s face, grotesque with excitement, the bigger forms of Lee and Jeth flashing past, going for ’Rion. Then I was down, my face forced into the dirt and gravel of the road’s shoulder. My nose crushed sideways and soaked the dirt with blood. I could barely turn my head enough to get a breath. My right arm was pinned under my ribs, and Rob was gripping my left arm in both fists, using my own arm to hold my face in the dirt. Pain warred with outrage and disbelief. I was Olwen Ap Howell! My grandfather employed half the town. Bullying trash-talk was one thing—that was just high school. But I had never thought anyone would dare touch me, hurt me.

Rob had his full weight on me, and I couldn’t move. Even through my slacks and his tatty jeans I could feel his erection as he ground his hips against my buttocks. “Did I break your nose, bitch?” he growled in my ear. “Let’s see you look down your nose at a real white man with your pretty face all messed up. You Ap Howells, sitting on your pile of money, thinking you’re so much better than everybody else. Does the old man know you’re screwin’ the nigger help?” He pulled back on my arm and smashed it as hard as he could into the back of my head. I screamed and choked against the dirt.

He kept talking, all the things that Rob thought a “man” like him should be teaching me, but what was worse than the filth and pain and the struggle for breath were the sounds and the stink of what Jess and Lee were doing to ’Rion. He’d fought them, probably hurt them some, but they’d taken him down, and I could hear the thud of fists and feet hitting flesh and bone. Even with my own blood filling my nose and mouth with coppery fire, I could still smell my friend’s blood. Even with Rob panting in my ear I could hear the grunts and gasps of pain ’Rion tried to hold in. Then there was the crack of bone breaking, and finally, ’Rion screamed. Rob and his friends hooted with laughter, as if that high, helpless noise was the best joke they’d ever heard.

Then I was fighting myself, fighting my wolf, all my training telling me to keep my Family’s secret instead of defending myself and ’Rion. I fought, too, because part of me knew, if I loosed my wolf in the midst of all that pain and blood, I would kill all three of them.

A car saved all of us. Rob and the others ran. The driver—a black woman—stopped for ’Rion and me, took us home, where I lived and ’Rion’s mother, Iris, worked.

Grandfather took one look at my face, grabbed my nose and pulled it out straight. He didn’t say a word, and I bit off my shriek. We heal fast—but that doesn’t mean broken bones won’t knit crooked if they aren’t set straight in time. I had cuts and bruises all over my face and body, but I was what I was, and I as I washed blood and grit from my wounds they were already beginning to heal.

’Rion was the one who had suffered. He was cut and bruised all over, with two black eyes and a split and swollen lip. They’d broken his left arm and cracked some ribs. He gave me one look that told me to keep silent, and refused to say a word about who had hurt him until the doctors at the clinic were done with him and we were all home again.

“We’re not pressing charges,” he told his mother and my grandfather calmly. They argued, but he held firm. “If we take this to court it will only make things worse. The parents won’t think their kids did anything wrong. It’ll be like when you promoted Dad.” That shut even Grandfather up. Grandfather had promoted ’Rion’s dad over several white workers who thought one of them should have had the job. There were mutters of favoritism, among other things, and both our houses had been vandalized. A few months later, at the start of deer hunting season, ’Rion’s dad had been found dead in the woods, an “apparent hunting accident.”

“It’s only a few months until I graduate,” ’Rion said. “I’ll hang back when we’re walking home, so it won’t look like Olwen and I are together. I already talked to ’Thena and she says I can move in with her as soon as I’m done with school.” He looked down, unable to meet his mother’s eyes, or mine. But his voice was hard and bitter, and left no doubt of his intent. “Let the bastards think they’ve won. Who cares? I’ll be out of here, out of this God-forgotten town for good. Them? They’re too stupid and too ignorant to even know they’re trapped.”

His words hit like a blow to the stomach. I wrapped my arms around myself turned away, trying to hide my shaking and the tears that started in my eyes. I don’t know why, but I had always though ’Rion would stay, even after ’Thena left. Or maybe he—maybe we—would go away to school, but we’d come back. We’d grown up like brother and sister, but we weren’t brother and sister. I’d thought maybe our friendship might grow into something more when we got older. I thought that, no matter what, ’Rion would be one person who would stay here and help me make this town better.