Lone Girl (The Wolfling Saga) (16 page)

“Here’s your ticket.” My father handed me a small envelope with a shaking hand. He wheeled my bag to the terminal for me, which I thought was nice. Perhaps he was eager to get rid of me. The sooner the better.

“I’ve also put some money into
a new bank account for you,” he said, handing me a debit-card. “The pin is your birthday.”

“Thanks, Dad.” My voice was strained and weak.

“Your flight is one-way, of course.”

“Right. Yeah.” My knees were ready to give way.

My father fished around in his jacket pocket for a moment before pulling out an old brick of a cell-phone. “Use this. It’s got a secure sim-card. Don’t use your smartphone. In fact, you’d better give it to me.”

“My phone? Why?” I felt stupid as soon as I’d asked the question. Reluctantly, I pulled my phone out of my pocket and exchanged it with the one my father offer, which looked in excess of twenty years old.

“I think it’s best you don’t … I don’t think you should call – for a while at least. Just in case.
I’ll call you once your flight has landed to make sure you’re okay … but that’s it.”

I nodded, tears stinging the back of my throat. What had my life become? It wasn’t meant to turn out like this.

I had to leave. I had to vanish.

“
It was foolish of me to think you could lead a normal life,” my father said. It was ironic that I would be sent away by my father – to the place I’d been trying to reach weeks prior, no less. But I hadn’t wanted it to happen like this.

“Dad … who did I kill
?” I asked in nothing more than a whisper.

He looked around so make sure no one was within earshot.
“It wasn’t Steven, my co-worker. And he hasn’t mentioned anyone he knows going missing over the last two weeks since … since-”

“So … Who was it?”

“I don’t know, Rose.”

“Do you think he broke in to the bomb shelter? Maybe he was stealing-”

“Rose, stop talking about it,” my father said with wild eyes. “Never speak of this again, do you understand?”

I felt sick to my stomach. Guilt weighed heavy on my heart. A man had died.
Someone, somewhere had vanished during the night and their family would never know what had happened.

I’d eaten them, too. That’s what made it worse. I’d eaten all but part of the leg.
Did that make me a cannibal?

No
, I scolded myself
. It’s not my fault. I am not in control of the monster. I locked myself away as best I could, but something went terribly wrong.

I had to stop thinking about it. I was making myself sick.

Everything had happened so fast. My father was whisking me out of the state and I understood why. He was the accomplice in a murder. He’d cleaned up the crime scene and would serve jail time too if the truth came out.

“It’s going to be cold in Alaska,” my father said as we came to a halt outside the entrance to my terminal.

“I know.”

“I heard it gets to around ten degrees this time of year.”

“I know.”

“You’ve packed a lot of warm clothes?”

“Yes.”

He took a deep breath and closed his eyes.

“It will be okay, Rose. I’ll take care of it, I promise.”

“What does that mean?” I asked, readjusting my backpack.

My father looked at me sadly and for the first time in many years I saw his age. I’d never noticed before, but his hair was thinning and going grey in places. Not only that, but his forehead had permanent lines.

“You haven’t been my little girl for a long time, Rose.”

I felt my heartstrings tug a little, but I kept my face impassive. “I haven’t?”

“No. Not since the attack. You changed after that day. You became … independent.
Strong
. Like a war veteran. It’s in your eyes, you know. They’re eyes that have seen far too much for someone your age. You look so young, Rose,” My father paused before he reached out a hand and tapped his index finger lightly on my forehead. “But you are much older, in here.”

To be honest, I felt ancient. Perhaps that was just my aching bones, fractured heart and guilty conscience,

“Now, get out of here. You’re going to miss your flight.”

“Right. Okay. Thanks, Dad.” I reached up and gave him a kiss on the cheek before grabbing the handle of my bag and heading towards the terminal.

Hopefully my new, less complicated life was just a short flight away.

~

I was taking a huge risk
. There was no telling what kind of closed-gate community I was walking in to. They might be mad, or savages. Worse yet, it might not even exist. And even if it did exist, who is to say they would welcome me into their community with open arms? I was a stranger; a lone wolf trespassing on a packs territory. What did wolves do in nature when taking in new members to their pack? I shuddered. I’d done my research on the traditional wolf when I was younger and knew that lone wolves were usually killed or run off by the pack in the wild.

But they aren’t wolves
, I reminded myself.
They are human beings who happen to have the same condition as me. There is no reason they wouldn’t behave in a civilized manner.

As I exited the terminal in Anchorage, I scoured the bay.

‘GOLDMAN
’ read the sign in a chauffer’s hand. He held it high above the heads of others. He was a tall man in his forties and did not wear a suit like they did in the movies. Instead, he wore a snow-jacket and big, puffy pants. Even inside the airport it was cold.

“Hello,” I said in a rather pathetic voice as I approached the driver. “I’m Rose Goldman.”

“Miss Goldman, welcome to Anchorage Airport, Alaska. My name is Martin. Let me take your suitcase for you.”

“
Oh, sure. Thanks.”

The driver took my suitcase and I followed in his wake. Once outside I realized how cold it actually was. I quickly pulled a jacket from my backpack and put it on.

“Bit colder than you’re used to down south, eh?”

“Just a bit,” I said, shoving my hands in my pockets.

When we arrived at the driver’s car it wasn’t what I had expected. The car was small, with peeling yellow paint and rusty hinges. Regardless, I was thankful for helping getting this far. Car-chases and stowing away on a ship was not the ideal way to travel.

Martin
the driver opened the back door of the car for me and I slid into the seat, stuffing my backpack next to me. Who was I to judge this man based on his car, anyway? I’d thieved that poor farmer’s truck and killed a man, after all.

Martin slid into the driver’s seat and looked at me in the rear-view mirror. “You all right back there?”

“Yes, fine thank you.” The car had a strange smell, but I couldn’t quite pinpoint what it was.

“Your Pa
said you were going to Silver Moon, right?”

“
Erm, right.”

I wasn’t sure how long the drive ahead would be. I was not familiar with Alaska’s geography, but I prepared myself for a good, long drive ahead, lasting at least a few hours.

Barely thirty minutes had passed before Martin turned into a deserted street that wound through narrow alleys. The buildings became increasingly shabby with each passing minute until no active businesses could be seen. All of the shops, hotels and houses we passed were clearly empty, their windows shattered, doors hanging off hinges and rats congregating in the loading docks of abandoned restaurants. It wasn’t until the car pulled into the rear parking of a desolate hotel that I began to doubt my chauffer.

Without a word, Martin exited the car and walked to the trunk. He removed my suitcase from the car and placed it on the
cracked concrete. I quickly wound the window down.

“Um. Where are we?” I asked in a small voice. Panic prickled at my skin and I wondered if I was about to be robbed.

Martin smiled and appeared not to have heard me. He opened my door and stood back to allow me to exit.

I remained seated, trying to decide what to do. The hotel at w
hich we had parked looked as though it had been abandoned long ago and no movement could be seen behind the grimy windows.

“What’s going on?” I demanded, sounding braver than I felt. “Where have you taken me?”

Martin smiled slowly. “Exactly where you need to be.”

I got out of the car slowly, staring up at the hotel with apprehension on my face.
Did he know something I didn’t?

I looked to Martin for some kind of clue, but he merely nodded towards the hotel.
His knowing smile made me wonder if he was a chauffeur at all.

Grabbing my suitcase
by the handle I began to drag it towards the hotel. The reception door creaked as I pulled on the handle and peered in.

The inside decor
was dated, with seventies wall-paper and brown carpet that was torn up in places. The reception desk was covered in dust and was unattended. Garbage and rats littered the floor and the smell was almost unbearable. Many people had obviously been squatting here for a long time.

On the verge of turning around and walking back outside, I heard floorboards creak within the hotel.

“Hello?” I called, my senses becoming hyper-aware. I knew someone was watching me. I could feel it.

Looking back the way I came I saw the yellow car was no longer parked outside. Martin had left.

“Son of a-” I muttered under my breath.

I walked further into the reception of the hotel, approaching the desk. There was a bell on the counter, covered in a thick layer of dust.
Feeling bold, I pressed it and the dinging sound echoed loudly through the room.

More floorboards creaked and I looked around for the source of the noise, jumping when a pair of large, blue eyes peered at me from behind the counter.

A child, no older than four or five, was staring at me from behind a mop of curly black hair.

“Hello there,” I said. “Um … is your Mommy or Daddy around?”

The child nodded and scarpered from the room, leaving me feeling nervous.

Sever
al minutes passed with no noise or signs of life. I was just about to pull out my cell phone and call my father when a small, wispy woman entered the room, with mountains of curly, black hair. She looked to be in her early forties.

“Hello,” she said in a soft voice. “I thought you would be here soon. You must be Rose.”

My voice caught in my throat. Something was wrong. I was not meant to be here.

The wild-looking woman watched me with dark, heavy-lidded eyes. “You must be tired after your flight. I am sorry to tell you that we really have no time for rest. We must depart soon if we wish to arrive before sundown.”

The blank look on my face must have given away my confusion.

“You do know where you are, don’t you?” the woman asked with a crooked smile.

I finally managed to find my voice. “Uh, honestly …
I have no idea anymore. Who-who are you?”

“How rude of me. My name is Anna.”

The curly haired child emerged from an adjacent room and clung to Anna’s legs.

“Anna, right, would you mind explaining-” At that moment my phone began to ring in my back-pocket. I fished out the brick-phone and recognized the number as my father’s. “Sorry, excuse me a moment. Hello? Dad?”

“Hey, Rose. Did you get off the plane okay?”
My father’s voice sounded strained.

“Yeah, I’m fine.
” I glanced over my shoulder. Anna was watching me intently.

“Look, I just got a call from the shuttle company and they’ve told me that your driver is going to be late. The chauffer originally rostered to pick you up never arrived at work this morning so they’re sending someone else to get you right now. You might have to wait twenty minutes or so, they told me-”

“No, Dad. There was someone there to pick me up-”

“They just called me two minutes ago. No one is there.”