Page 33 of The Alpha Dire Wolf
“Can you tell me more about the woods?” I asked, reaching for the door to hold it open for both her and the man, who was still grumping to himself about the curse.
“The forest treats everyone differently,” the woman said, tilting her head toward the back of the man’s head, as if to point out one such manner of treatment. “If you aren’t good to it, it won’t be kind to you. Bad things may happen. Treat it well, and it maybe welcomes you.”
I recalled the warming embrace that I often encountered upon setting foot inside the forest.
“Nobody can quite explain it,” she continued as we followed everyone into the main auditorium. “But there is, without a doubt, something strange about it.”
“Are you okay?” I asked, noting the way her face scrunched up suddenly as she finished talking. “Do you need a chair?”
“I’m fine,” she said, swatting my helping arm away. But she was gentle about it. “I’m eighty-one, not ninety-one.”
I laughed. “If you say so. But what was with the look then?”
“It’s been a long time since anyone’s asked about the woods. We just sort ofknow,” she explained. “My brain got to thinking about when it all started.”
“You know the origins of the mystery?” I asked, leaning in eagerly.
“No, no, nothing like that,” she said, waving me off. “I was just remembering something I heard when I was younger. About something from the forest, spilling over to the town. Troubles, with people over the forest, squabbling about something from even longer ago. I was young when that happened, so I didn’t pay much attention, you see. But that feels right. I don’t recall much. Though I do know they didn’t come around much after that.”
We were in the auditorium now, much of the seating occupied by those who had come first, forcing us to find chairs in the second to last row.
“Is that all?” I asked once we were seated. “You don’t remember anything else?”
“No,” she said. “Just that they didn’t come around anymore after that. Maybe the historical society can help you out. They’ll have records of all that, details, those sorts of things. That’s what they’re good for.”
I nodded slowly. “Yes, you’re probably right. Thank you.”
The mayor took the stage to a chorus of shouted questions and raised voices from all sides. He ignored each and every one of them. Instead, he raised his hand and waved at the various people, greeting many of them by name.
Somewhere between middle-aged and elderly, he wore a sleek-cut charcoal-black suit that reflected very little of the stage lighting. His hair was thinning but styled well, not bothering to hide the flaw. A confident man, he walked across the stage without worry. I couldn’t tell if it was the truth of him or just a projection he was putting on to keep everyone else calm after the events.
An elderly male with a walker shuffled his way up the aisles, looking for a seat. I bid the lovely bridge-player a fond farewelland relinquished my seat, taking up a position against the side wall and immediately feeling better. Something about sitting among the long-time townsfolk hadn’t felt quite right.
Perhaps it was something to do with the suspicion I’d been greeted with for asking so many questions, a suspicion only dismissed upon realizing I was the granddaughter of someone they knew.
Small-town prejudices.
I hated being considered an outsider. New Lockwood was my hometown.
I should never have left.
Apparently, according to twenty-six-year-old me, my ten-year-old self had a choice in the matter.
“Before anyone else asks, no, the 5k Beast-Run wasnoton the schedule for today. Someone got it mixed up. It was supposed to be next weekend!”
A mixture of laughter and muted nervous titters echoed through the auditorium as the mayor finally spoke up. Apparently, the place was full enough for him. Later-comers could hear it from those already assembled.
“I already have assurances that the next one will be cleared with my office before they proceed. Don’t worry.”
There was less laughter and more muted nerves this time. Which the mayor immediately picked up on.
“I have already assigned some people to begin looking into what happened today,” he continued in a more sober, serious tone, letting his eyes sweep the packed auditorium. The air conditioning was forced to work overtime to keep up. “Something scared those animals today. It was probably some idiots somewhere who started up logging operations again.”
The nervousness filling the room evaporated, replaced by an audible rumble of anger. That was a protectiveness over the forest from the people. I knew because it wasn’t the first time logging operations had caused issues. Only the last time, it had forced my family out of town, not the animals.
“It’s the curse of the woods, coming true. That’s what it was!” someone shouted.
Far more agreement than I would have expected from a room full of sane people followed the cry.
