This Is Not a Werewolf Story (24 page)

Below, the cougar pounces and lands on cement. I can hear him scrabble around, like he can't believe it, and then I can feel the air sweep beneath us as he stretches up against the wall and paws at the emptiness.

With Sparrow holding tight to my neck, his legs squeezing around my waist, I scramble up to the top of the ladder until my head hits the ceiling. We are out of rungs.

I push Sparrow up so that he is sitting on the top rung. I'm pretty sure the big field in the middle of the fort is above us. Some kid's up there flying a kite, I bet. In a minute, when I've caught my breath, I'll feel around on the ceiling for the hatch this ladder must lead to, but I doubt it'll open—it's probably been locked tight for half a century.

I hear claws scrape against something metallic. That cougar is trying to climb the ladder! I cling to the bar and curl my feet in. I'd sure like to keep them attached to my ankles.

Scrape, scrape. My ears flinch. I don't want to die in the dark.

Then I hear shouts.

It's Vincent's voice hollering at us, but I can't tell where he is.

“We're at the top of a ladder, but the cougar is trying to climb it,” I shout back.

“Hang on, boys!” Dean Swift calls. “The police are going to fire a flare to scare him off. Stay where you are and plug your ears.”

I put Sparrow's hands over my ears and mine over his and then I press down as hard as I can.

There's a flash of light and a loud bang.

A second later I hear the sound of a gunshot and then the screech of the cougar.

They've killed it.

We scramble down and head out of the tunnel as fast as we can in the dark.

As we come out into the daylight, Sparrow looks up at me. I can tell by the shape of his mouth that he's about to cry. I stop walking and kneel down so that I'm his height. It feels good to get low—my legs are wobbly. I hug Sparrow.

“I'm sorry,” I tell him.

I look around as I pat him. We're all alone. This is where I left Tuffman. So much for calling me captain and promising to obey my orders.

Dean Swift runs over to us from the other entrance. A few of the teachers and some of the policemen follow. Vincent comes too, but he hangs back. He must feel embarrassed about how he acted when we heard the cougar.

“Thanks for going to get help,” I say as I walk up to him. “You saved us.” I say it loudly so that the grown-ups will remember to give him credit for doing the right thing.

His face gets red.

People start crowding around us.

Vincent leans in and whispers, “Promise you won't tell anyone.”

Like I'd do that.

“Promise,” he says again.

“I promise.” I don't have much time to think about
it, but it bugs me a little that he doesn't trust me—that he needs me to swear to it.

Then the grown-ups are all over me and Sparrow, asking if we're okay and did we get hurt and are we frightened and do we need to talk and the counselor is waiting for us back at the school and here's some juice and brownies that the Fort Casey guards brought over for you.

When they quiet down for a second, Sparrow asks, “Did you get the cougar?”

Dean Swift and the policemen all sigh at the same time.

For the first time I notice Ms. Tern is standing there, holding a rifle.

One of the Fort Casey guards speaks up. “The durn thing got clean away!”

Dean Swift frowns. “Not clean away, you can't say that. The bullet nicked him. I saw it as he darted by. She managed to graze his cheek.”

Ms. Tern bites her lower lip. “I hoped I could stop it without killing it.”

Dean Swift shrugs. I can tell he wishes Ms. Tern had done a little more damage. But he just puts an arm around me and Sparrow and says, “I have been assured by the guards that it will be easier to track, thanks to the trail of blood. The suspense will soon end.”

“Hey, there you are!” A voice cries out.

We turn around to see Tuffman walking out of the tunnel from the same side Sparrow and I had just run out of. The side where Tuffman saluted and promised to stand guard.

Tuffman is ready with an excuse before he can even see the look on my face. “I got worried. I went in to look for you. It's dark in there!”

My blood feels cold. My thoughts click together like puzzle pieces. How could he have gone in that side and not passed me and Sparrow as we were coming out?

Oh man. Maybe a wolf's nose is never wrong.

“I cut myself pretty good, huh?” Tuffman says. He's holding his bandana to his cheek. “There are some hooks stuck into the wall—right at face level. Wonder what the soldiers used them for.”

How can it be a coincidence that Tuffman is bleeding in the same place where the cougar got hit?

The whole solidarity thing as we ran across the fort grounds—that was all just a big show, wasn't it? He was trying to distract me and make it easier to hide shifting into his second skin. His
cougar
skin.

“Missed it, Nicky? Well, it takes skill to use a gun that big,” Tuffman says to Ms. Tern.

“Just because I didn't slaughter the animal doesn't mean I missed my shot,” Ms. Tern says. She grips the stock of the rifle.

I watch them argue. I crack my jaw. It makes me
calm, to know the truth and to be certain of it. I'll take care of Tuffman in the woods.

But then I think of Bobo. Fury pulses in me. Because what would the cougar have done to me and Sparrow if I hadn't leaped onto that ladder?

It's not human—the anger in me is all wolf. I see and hear like I do when I'm deep in the woods. My nose is full of scents, each one resting above or below another, like layers on a tall cake.

Everyone is moving away from the Blackout Tunnel, crossing the field and heading to the beach and the school. Tuffman's at the back of the pack. He's wiping his cheek with his bandana.

I sense how he feels—frustrated but safe. He's tired and off his guard.

I move behind him slowly, tracking him. I stare at his back. The closer I get, the harder I sniff. I can smell his blood. I sniff deeper. I smell Bobo.

I found her teeth.

“Hey,” I call to him. “Thanks for helping.”

“And they say the kid never talks,” he says in his jokey way as he turns to face me.

If he knew me better, he'd know that I always say
thank you
.

“Put it there, pardner,” I say. I put my hand out.

He thinks I'm dumb as bricks. He reaches for my hand.

I don't think we've been properly introduced. Meet your nephew, the wolf.

I grip his hand tight in mine. With my left hand I pat him on the shoulder. I reach around a little to the back, where I can feel the shape of a bandage under his shirt. I sink my fingers into the wound.
Bobo wants her teeth back.

He winces. His shoulder twists and drops down. I keep digging. He tries to yank his right hand out of mine. But I squeeze harder. I have my wolf strength in me.

“There's more than one way to skin a cat,” I say to him.

I let go. I don't want him to start screeching. Not yet.

I turn to walk away, but he reaches out and swipes at me.

When I look back, his face is pale with pain but he's smiling. “Hey, pardner,” he manages to say. “I had that coming. No hard feelings, yeah?”

My ears bend back. I want to snarl, but my mouth only works that way when I'm a wolf.

“What?” I bark.

“You two were in my territory, like the dog was last night. Remember the other day at the lake?” he asks. “Me and Vincent were in your territory, right?”

It's so strange to hear him say my secret out loud. He's talking about it like it's normal.

“Don't tell me you wouldn't have destroyed us if we'd given you half the chance,” he says. “It's in our
nature, that's all.” His voice is calm and matter-of-fact, like this is just some weird family trait like a knack for math or bad teeth.

But it's true. I don't know what I would have done to them. I look away.

“You're strong, Raul,” he says.

I shrug, but I can't help it—I feel proud. It's funny. Tuffman's the only one who could notice that about me. Nobody else sees what we can see.

“We need to work together, Raul,” he says. “We can help each other—keep normal people out of our territory so they don't get hurt.”

It all starts to sink in. What I've been hiding, why I've been hiding it, and now here it is out in the open. Someone knows my secret. And he's not afraid of me and he doesn't hate me for it.

He smiles. “I mean, it's not like we're monsters.”

Mary Anne says I'm a loner because I want to be. But all this time, I've been a loner because I have to be.

He steps closer to me. “And, Raul, I can show you how to live forever.”

His eyes wrap around me. I can't move.

Under the sharp March wind or above it is a puff of warmth. Spring. I sniff and smell the yellow stubs of sprouts and the white-green of rising bulbs and the cracking shells and cocoons of every insect and bird waking to life.

And I can't look away from his gold eyes and the promise that I know somehow is not a lie.

“Both of you,” he says. “I can help her, too, Raul.”

I blink. Of course he can.

He reaches back and rubs his shoulder where I dug my fingers into him. His hand comes away covered in blood. He stretches it out to me. “Shake on it?”

I begin to raise my hand. With a swipe so quick I don't even see it, his fingernail slices across my palm. I stare at the rising red line.

Blood brothers with Tuffman?

I drop my hand.

He steps closer. “Don't chicken out on me, kid. Here's the deal. A cat's got nine lives. A wolf can too,” he says.

The words in my head are all in capital letters: DO YOU WANT NINE LIVES?

He made my mom the same promise.

I almost drop to all fours. I race to join Sparrow and the others.

The wind comes up off the water. The sky is whipped cream and blue. The grass along the cliffs is tall and golden. I smell salt and seaweed and driftwood.

Yeah, I want to live forever. But not with him.

I wipe my hand on my jeans. The cut isn't very deep.

On the walk back to the school everyone surrounds me.

I tell myself to look calm. Dean Swift will give me
the recipe box as soon as we get back. Until then, I'd best act like my brain isn't bruised and my uncle isn't a man-eating cougar who thinks he can live forever.

I say “Thank you” when Mean Jack says I make one heck of a capo. He wants to talk to me privately later about whether I'd consider taking the vow of
omertà
.

“Code of Silence, you wanna take that? Everyone knows you can keep your trap shut. But now you proved you got what it takes to be a made man,” he whispers.

Mark, swinging his weighted vest over his head, hollers to me, “I woulda
Peed. My. Pants.
I mean it.”

Little John grabs my hand. “Did you hear that joke? Is it wet on Uranus? Only it means the planet and it also means your butt. Right? You get it?”

When Sparrow takes my other hand, the pressure on the cut takes the sting away. He holds it like he'll never let go.

All the grown-ups tell me I must be the bravest kid in the world. But I know what I did. What I did was lose my temper, scare a little kid who looks up to me, and put him in danger. That's what I did. I acted as vicious as a wounded animal.

And I've still got to save my mom. Inside, the wolf rage dies down. The boy in me thinks. I might have messed up there, too. Maybe I shouldn't have let Tuffman know I know. Maybe I shouldn't have let him see how strong I am.

Who is he, really?

Cook Patsy comes over and calls me heroic. I look around to see if Mary Anne heard. It takes a while for me to spot her.

She's at the back of the crowd. With Vincent. A little drop of jealousy rains in my heart. Then it sprinkles when she whispers something in Vincent's ear. He smiles and nods like she said something reassuring.

Then it's a downpour. Because when she loses her balance and moves away from him a little, I see that they are holding hands. He pulls her back so that she doesn't fall.

It's a hurricane in my heart.

On the steps of the school, Dean Swift and Ms. Tern stop me. Their eyes drill into me.

“Straight to bed for you,” the dean says.

I'm hot and sweaty. There's an 88 percent chance I'm going to barf. I sit down hard on the bottom step.

“He's knackered!” Ms. Tern says.

Dean Swift bends over me. Something small and metallic falls out of his pocket and lands on the step. A key. I point to it, but he has already stood up. His head is swiveling around, searching for help.

“We need a pair of strong arms to get you up to your bed,” Dean Swift says.