Page 71 of Hateful
“Start backing up, Heath,” I say in a hushed tone. One wolf’s ears pricks up when I speak, so I drop my voice even lower.
Heath takes a slow, deliberate step back. The wolf in front of him does nothing. I take a step back. The wolves in front of me do nothing.
“Okay,” I whisper. “Let’s just … back up.”
Heath nods, his eyes still focused on the wolf in front of him. I begin walking backward very slowly, feeling the way with my feet so I don’t run into a tree or something. Is it okay if I look away to glance over my shoulder? Better not, just to be safe.
Ahead of me, Heath is backing away from his own wolf, but in a different direction from me. I decide I’ll circle around to find him once we’re safe.
I back my way out of the clearing, carefully avoiding the trees as I do, and the wolves stay where they are. After a while, they simply turn and walk off, mouths open, tongues lolling out. Heath’s wolf follows the two that were on me.
We’re in the clear. We’re safe.
And then Heath does something stupid.
I don’t know why the whole Brotherhood is this way. Did they learn it from each other? Were they always like this? Are their parents like this? What is it that makes them think the things they do are good ideas?
Heath grins as the wolf turns around.
“Yeah, that’s right!” he shouts. “Youbetterrun!” And he jabs at the wolf with his stick.
Incensed, the wolf whirls and snaps, catching the stick in his teeth. Heath screams in horror as the wolf’s teeth easily splinter the wood.
And then the other two are on him.
It all happens so fast. Everything was just fine, and now three wolves pounce on Heath. I feel a scream rip through my throat as I run toward him, back into the clearing, swinging my stick like a sword and scooping up rocks as I go.
“Getoutof here!” I yell, smacking whatever part of the wolves I can reach. The wolves are grey blurs. They’re so fast. I don’t know if I’m doing any damage to them at all.
Heath meanwhile falls back, and it’s only then that I see his twisted ankle. He can’t run. I don’t know how he was even putting enough weight on it before to back away.
We won’t be able to pull that trick again.
I throw a rock at the nearest wolf and it hits him square on the nose. With a yelp, the wolf falls back. The other two leap away from Heath to protect their friend.
I jump in front of Heath’s crumpled form and try not to think of all the blood I see around him while I frantically wave my stick about.He’s already been bitten.
“Get away from us!” I scream at the wolves, not even sure what I’m saying. “Go on! Go back! We’re leaving! Just let us leave!”
One wolf snarls and advances, but one of my wild swings catches him in the face and he flinches back. All three of them seem to think it over and collectively decide I’m too much trouble. They turn and lope away into the bushes, their bloody prize left for another day.
I continue waving and shouting for a few more seconds just in case, but they don’t come back. I’m exhausted. My heart pounds. My throat burns from all the screaming. I lower my arms and turn to look at Heath.
He looks almost folded in on himself. Blood covers him and his clothing, smears his face, and trickles down onto the ground where it’s already starting to pool around him. I see a dark, bloody mess of flesh on his upper thigh, but I don’t know if that’s the only place he’s been bitten.
His half-closed eyes stare dully into the middle distance.
“Heath?” My voice comes out in a hoarse whisper as I collapse to my knees and take his face in my hands.
His eyelids flutter as his eyes focus and find my face.
“Oh, thank God,” I gasp. “Heath? Are you okay?”
Heath stares up at me vacantly for a few moments, his mouth working, his breath rattling. I stare down at him and cradle his head in my lap. He twitches his hand toward me. Finally, he speaks only two words.
“It hurts.”
And those two words are more than enough. I know what I have to do next.
