Hannah Pole - Silence of the Wolves

Pouring herself a cup of coffee, Tam opened her fridge door. No food. Damn, living alone could be irritating. Her stomach rumbled as she closed the door. God, she felt like she hadn’t eaten in days. She stalked over to her landline and quickly dialled the cafe down the road from her. She was good friends with the owner, and she knew he’d get someone to run some food up to her apartment. Thankfully, they were always open for the morning rush of people heading to London, so they would be able to feed her at this ungodly hour. She ordered her usual: a bacon, sausage and egg roll, and added a bagel and a bacon and cheese pastry to the order for good measure. She was so hungry, even that didn’t seem enough.

While she waited for her food, Tam slipped into the bedroom and pulled some jeans and a T-shirt on. Naked was natural, comfortable, but the bacon guy would probably have a fit if she answered the door in the nude. She pulled her favourite jumper on over the top and drew a sharp breath in as it rasped against her skin. Why on earth was she so damn sore?

It didn’t take long for her order to arrive; the delicious bag of greasy, baked goodness smelt amazing, the scent seeping into her very pores. The delivery guy nodded at her as he accepted the cash she’d pulled out of her emergency money jar and told her that her hair was looking ‘mighty sexy’, which was weird as the kid had never complimented her before. She grinned as she walked back into her kitchen. Perhaps today was going to be a good day.

Tamriel slid her laptop from beneath the sofa cushions, where she always kept it. If someone was going to break into her apartment, it’s the last place they would think to look, she always thought.

As she chewed on her roll, she opened the computer and pulled up her files for the latest story she’d been working on. With a grimace, she scanned the first few lines of her report and rolled her eyes. A baker had made ‘Folkestone’s biggest loaf of bread’. Yay! How exciting!

She snorted. How was she ever going to make it to hard-hitting journalist from junior reporter with god-awful stories like these?

Absently chewing the bacon and cheese pastry, she clicked open her personal stories. Ninja granny beats gun-wielding burglar with her husband’s golf club. Much more interesting, and a story that only she had at the moment. She was in the area when it happened, and managed to get in there and get as much as she could from the woman before the police arrived to take her statement. They told the woman not to talk to the press, but the feisty old lady was still reeling from beating the crap out of the intruder. She wasn’t the terrified old woman you’d expect, but a kung fu granny who was champing at the bit to wallop him another one.

Tam frowned as she reached into the scrumptious bag of goodies, only to discover she had eaten everything already; the roll, the pastries, all gone. And it hadn’t even touched the sides. Her stomach growled at her, but she shrugged. There was no more food in the house, so it would have to wait.

Her computer pinged, notifying her that she had fifteen new emails from the office. That was a bit excessive, and not something she wanted to deal with now. It was still before seven, she would think about work after nine.

Tam picked up the newspaper from the mail slot on the door to her flat and tucked it under her arm as she poured herself another coffee, and checked the fridge and cupboards again just in case. Still nothing. Damn.

Folding herself down onto a chair at the breakfast bar, she chewed on her lip for a moment. Her mother was coming over for dinner this weekend… Or was it next weekend? She’d have to check. The fridge would need filling up before then. With a sigh, she checked the front page of the paper.

Oh hell.

‘Hardcore eighty year old beats burglar with a golf club,’ read the front page. Tam cursed long and hard. It had only happened a few days ago and the police weren’t releasing it to the press yet. She had been waiting for it like a dog with a bone since she’d come across the lady and her out-of-this-world pummelling skills, and now someone else had scooped it up before she’d even had the chance? Goddamn.

Tam frowned and sipped her coffee, flicking through the rest of the paper; nothing of any interest. The only good story in Folkestone for weeks and she’d missed out on it!

With a sigh, she told herself to call an end to the pity party. She would need to start getting ready for work soon but, for the moment, she was just enjoying sitting in her kitchen, doing nothing of any great importance. Drinking coffee, with long-life milk because the fresh milk was stale. She considered reading a book; there was a new one she’d been meaning to sink her teeth into for ages, but hadn’t had the time. Maybe now was a good time to start. Yet as she ran a hand through her wet hair, she realised she’d need to blow-dry it and get her crap together for work before she could truly relax into a good book, otherwise she’d lose track of time and have to rush.

Tamriel gave the novel in question, currently sitting looking lonely on her coffee table, a long, wistful glance, and strode over to the recycling box to shove the paper into it. As she bent down, something in her mailbox caught her eye. Another newspaper. With a grunt of confusion, she lifted the lid on the thing and tugged it out, along with several others. Why did she have so many newspapers in her box? She was only supposed to get one a day for Christ’s sake!

Glancing at the date on the first one she frowned, October 6 th. The next, October 7 th. What on earth? Frantically grabbing the paper she had been reading out of the recycling box, she read the date. October 10 th? What now? Last time she’d checked, it had only been the 5 th!

How in the hell did she lose five days? No wonder she’d lost the story; that was a full working week she’d just… Forgotten? What on god’s earth was happening?

Memories of a medical clinic flooded back to her, broken memories. A man with a deep voice.

As a headache came on hard and fast, she pushed the memories away, taking a deep breath.

Crap. She’d missed an entire week of work! Grabbing at her coat, she searched frantically for her mobile. Where was the damn thing?

The zombie smashed it , her inner voice said. No, she thought, that was crazy. Zombies?

That kind of thing was all fiction, wasn’t it? She must be going mad.

Giving up on the mobile search, she grabbed her house phone and dialled work, gritting her teeth as the hold music kicked in.

‘Hello, Kent News . Jennifer speaking.’

‘Hey, it’s Tam. Is—’

‘Tammy! Oh my god! Are you OK? Are you feeling better now?’

‘What? Yeah, I’m good. What do you mean, better?’

‘Tam, you phoned in last week and said you were feeling really rough and wouldn’t be in for a few days. We’ve all been worried about you!’

‘Oh, I did? I must have forgotten. Yeah, I’m much better, thanks. I’ll be in later on today. Thanks, Jen. Bye!’

What the hell? Maybe she’d been so sick she’d just forgotten the last few days? Can that even happen? It would explain why she ached so much though.

Storming into the bedroom she had another quick search for her phone but to no avail, and decided to start getting dressed. Surely putting some make-up on and some nice clothes would make her feel better. Grabbing her make-up bag, she sat at her dressing table and… Holy crap, what had happened to her hair?

The formerly black, silky strands were now streaked with red, highlighted with the stuff. What the—? Had she been to the hairdressers? No, she never dyed her hair, not ever!

Yanking a brush through the long waves, she smoothed it out and leant in, checking her roots. What on earth was going on here? She felt like tearing her hair out, screaming, slamming doors, throwing the contents of her tiny flat around. She was just so frustrated with the many questions running through her mind that she just couldn’t answer, she felt as though she was on the brink of bursting into tears. Giving up on the make-up front, she looked around for her handbag. Work. She needed to work. Get back to something normal. It might be dull. She might hate the place. But at least it was normal.