Page 17 of Raised By Wolves

“Is it any good?” I ask. I’m not as easily excited as Holo is.

“Not really. But it’s hot, and you’ll have it in your hands about thirty seconds after you order it.”

“Wendy, Wendy, Wendy,” says Holo in a singsong.

The chief’s expression turns worried, like,Is he okay in the head?

I won’t pretend I haven’t wondered that myself once in a while.

I knock against the car door with my elbow. “Are you going to let us out?” There aren’t any handles in the back. We’re still caged animals.

“Patience,” the chief says. He drives around to the back of the restaurant and comes to a stop in front of a big sign covered in pictures of food.HOT ’N JUICY CHEESEBURGERS,” it reads, andMAKE IT A COMBO!

Whatever that means.

“Welcome to Wendy’s,” the sign says. “May I take your order?”

Holo jumps back. I start laughing at him; I can’t help it, even though the voice scared me, too.

“What do you two want?” the chief asks us.

“Does the magic sign have any suggestions?” Holo asks.

The chief looks at him quizzically, then pokes his head out the window. “We’ll have a couple of sausage, egg, and cheese biscuits, a hot honey chicken biscuit, and two breakfast Baconators. Two orange juices and one large coffee, black.”

After the sign reads his order back to him, he drives forward again and stops in front of a small window. It slides open, and a pretty girl hands him a couple of white paper bags.

“Have a nice day,” she says. When she spots us, her eyes widen, like she’s surprised to see two kids stuffed in the back of a police car.

I bare my teeth at her.Yeah, that’s right—we’re dangerous.

The chief passes the bags through the partition. My mouth’s already watering. I unwrap whatever little breakfast sandwich my hand touches first and take a giant bite.

“Whaddya think?” the chief asks, looking all pleased with himself.

“You were right,” I tell him. “It’s hot and it’s fast. And it’s not that good.”

“Disagree,” Holo says, his mouth full of biscuit. “Absolutelydisagree.”

CHAPTER 14

INSTEAD OF GOING back into town, the chief turns east. We start driving toward the foothills of the mountains, and the road gets narrower and bumpier. The houses and ranches get fewer and farther between. The trees start closing in as we climb.

Holo seems almost happy now. His stomach’s full, and we’re heading into the wilderness—what’s not to like about that? But I feel queasy, and I don’t think it’s the greasy biscuit.

Where’s the cop taking us?

I’d asked him, but he already told me I’d find out soon enough.

I gaze nervously into the woods. I don’t know where we are, but I’m looking for a flash of gray—

A big bump in the road jolts us hard. I practically hit the ceiling, and the last of Holo’s Baconator goes flying from his hands. But he just grabs all the pieces from the floor and pops them into his mouth.

Wolves eateverythingfrom the ground.

After another few minutes, the chief takes a left onto a gravel road. We bounce along that for a while until we come to a small clearing in the woods. “Welcome to my place,” he says.

That’s when I see the little log cabin, tucked right up against the edge of the forest. Smoke curls up from the chimney. Spring violets bloom around the porch.

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