Screams echoed as Helen stepped on the brakes. Shouts and footsteps rippled as we alighted from the car.
Neatness and professionalism be damned, Helen rushed to where the boy splayed on the road and knelt beside him, checking his pulse, tearing at his already rippled tee.
My footsteps were heavy, I couldn't breathe as I tried to walk away from the gruesome sight. What appeared to be claw marks gashed the boy's hairy chest. His brown hair was sogged with blood and clung to his forehead. His arms and legs were pricked with thorns dripping blood. His face was covered with dirt, grime, dried blood and fresh blood flowing down his right cheek.
His eyes were shut, his eyelids smeared with blood. His pants were slashed at different places, blood and dirt making the fabric appear black rather than dark blue. And his feet were caked with mud and blood.
People shoved through me, trying to get a look at him. Someone sobbed, another wailed, many shrieked. I just stood there as memories of another bloodied body came rushing.
I saw myself kneeling on a grime coated cobblestone, holding Tat's limp body. The streetlights above me flickering. Tears streaked down my face, dropping and missing with Tat's blood. His face had paled and his lips still stretched in a smile had turned mauve. It had been hours yet the hole in his chest still dripped blood.
I had screamed until my voice was hoarse, no one came. Why would they when Dread was involved?
An elbow to my stomach brought me out of that memory and had me retching on the sidewalk. When I had emptied everything in my stomach, I staggered back to the car. More people had gathered, so much so that I could no longer see the boy or Helen, sirens blared as the cops, media, more cars and an ambulance came rushing.
Drowsily I watched as a woman rushed into the crowd, followed by a man with the same brown hair as the boy. No doubt, his parents. I had to cover my ears as I heard his mom shriek while saying,
"No, no, no, no, no!, it can't be. It can't be" I couldn't see, but I could tell she must've had her hands on her husband's clothes yanking it as she continued,
"Please tell me it's not Ethan, tell me it's not my boy. Oh God, what did I do to deserve this, what wrong did I ever do to warrant…" Her lamentation was dulled out by the sound of a reporter reporting live.
" Citizens of RavenHurst, the rabid wolf strikes again. Reporting live from the scene where the victim, a teenage boy by name Ethan Adams was hit by a car after escaping the claws of the wolf. He is barely alive, but medics say he will live. He sustained serious injuries like the three claw gash on his chest, a dislocation from the car hit and a crack in his skull. This is the third victim this week, and the others never made it. The local police and authorities are already on the move, hunting the wolf in the looming shades of Fairwoods, hopefully their search this time will be successful rather than a welcome party of bleeding and injured men with no good news. We are keeping our fingers crossed as we hope this wolf will be brought to justice before he strikes again. If there is any development we will let you know, but for now please don't panic and stay the hell away from Fairwoods. Sharon Keys, reporting."
"So much for normal", I mumbled to myself.
Helen was being interrogated by two cops who didn't go with the hunting party. She was shaking, her hair was a mess, her skirt had blotches where blood had stained it.
The boy was loaded into a stretcher and into the ambulance. His parents following like bees to pollen.
"They are really lucky their boy managed to escape. The other two were dead bodies when they were found, I just pray the boy pulls through, so his escape won't be in vain" a woman close to me was telling another as the ambulance drove past them.
"What is our little town turning into, the wolves never bothered us before so why start now? Do you think another Great Sundering is about to happen?" The other woman whispered.
Pulling her aside, the first woman said, " Oh hush, Talma, how could you say a thing like that. Thank the heavens, no one heard you or else you would have some serious explaining to do. You know the jitters people get when 'The Great' is mentioned, not to talk of finishing it. Don't say I didn't warn you, I'm out of here before you get me entangled with your loose lips."
My mind swirled with patches of their conversation, what was the Great Sundering and why were people afraid of it? Why were the wolves attacking or was it just the rabid one?
Helen came to my side then, urging
me to get into the car. She was still
disheveled, but at least she had managed to get some control of herself.
They had let her go because the boy was already in bad shape before she knocked him down. In a way, she had saved the boy because in situations like that, the victims are rarely in control of their behaviors and actions. Who knows where he was running to? Or if the wolf was still in pursuit before Helen's car stopped the boy and sent the wolf retreating in fear. People were already dispersing, talking in hush tones as we drove on.
I waited for five minutes before my patience snapped,
"Did you now see why I pleaded to go back?! This town is creepy, even the name is creepy and the people… they are weird, so please can we just go back, I can forfeit school and start working, please let's just go back."
For moments she just drove on, her face showing no hint of even hearing me and just as I was about to pound on the dashboard. She spoke,
" Don't be naive, a rabid wolf bit someone and suddenly the town is unfit for living. What of its residents, huh, are they to leave just because they are being terrorized by a wolf? Hear yourself, Mel, who talks about forfeiting school? Without education what exactly are you going to do with your life? Wait tables, become a barmaid, be a beach guard, what am I saying some of these jobs require at least a high school degree, so tell me what are you going to do?" She sighed and continued in a more calmer tone, "this is for your own good kiddo, you have to work hard here to make something out of your life, your aunt already has the resources to take care of it, all you have to do is put in the work. And please try to avoid Fairwoods."
In spite of it all, I found myself chuckling at her last statement and then we laughed. Chortles of relief dispersing the tension, blowing away the harsh truth behind her words.
She was right though, I have to make something out of myself. I have to prove to my parents who abandoned me that they were wrong in doing so. I have to make Helen–the one person who has always had my back–proud, then I have to honor Tat's memory by being better.
Silence settled as we drove on, past croaking ravens and cawing crows. Unkindness and murder. Full and empty houses. Patches and stretches of bushes and woods, which made sense why there were wolves. With how dense the woods were, more frightful things than wolves would inhabit those shades, like the golden eyed creature I saw earlier.
We were just a few kilometers away from the location when a caller saved as Sarah Grove appeared on the car screen. Swiping it up, I heard for the first time, the voice of my supposed aunt.
"Hello, Helen. Sorry about the missed calls, I got hit by writer's block and decided to walk it off. Anyway, where are you now? Hope you are not finding it difficult to locate the address and please don't tell me you are the driver who hit that boy, I'm just seeing it in the news now? Hello, Helen, are you there?"
I couldn't stifle my chuckle as I wondered what my aunt expected Helen to do when she barely gave her chance to respond to her queries.
After the call ended with Helen assuring Sarah of our proximity to her house, she gave me the what-do-you-think look.
From the voice I heard, Sarah seemed nice and as a writer, a bestseller at that, she had to be good, better than her sister who had abandoned her child. So, I shrugged and said,
"Yeah, she seems nice", but what
Helen doesn't know is that at the beginning… they always are.