The Alpha’s Human Surrogate

Chapter 3 - Punishment

Erin’s POV

We chose not to celebrate after the second selection, instead we went home and drew our curtains. We spent the entire evening speculating, what happens after selection.

“It’s called ‘The Hunt’ for a reason. Perhaps, they hunt us humans. Each Alpha is allowed to kill only one. The rest come home. Maybe that’s why we never see them again,” Cait suggests with a look of horror on her face.

“Cait, why would they kill us? We serve them. We provide for them,” Mother gasps, absolutely hurried that Cait would suggest such a thing.

“Maybe it isn’t random. Maybe, there are some of us who are problematic. Maybe some humans are planning an uprising. The wolves get wind of which families may rebel and select their children to put a stop to it,” Cait continues.

“Perhaps, it’s to serve them,” I say.

“Oh, would you all wake up! It’s called ‘The Hunt.’ It’s not enough that we serve. They’re wolves. They are animals. They live for the kill. One day, I will change the fortune of humans,” Cait promises us.

“Cait. Don’t speak of treachery!” My Dad reviles.

Cait doesn’t respond. She angrily stomps away to her room and slams the door. That’s another thing. Since we have more money and can afford to heat each room, we all now sleep in separate bedrooms.

That night, for the first time in as long as I can remember – I have nightmares. It’s been years since I had bad dreams. But now they’re flooding in.

*******

It’s selection day and my name is called. I’m taken away to a vast Greenland. There’s a siren and I’m told to run. I don’t know how long I run for: I trip and I stumble, but I keep going. And then I hear the howl of a wolf. It’s not long until I hear it’s thunderous footsteps behind me. And all too soon I feel it’s sharp teeth tear into my flesh.

*******

I wake screaming. Is this the fate of those who are chosen? I manage to calm myself and drift back into an uneasy sleep, only to have the same dream again, and again, and again. Night after night.

Over the next few months, Cait changes drastically. She’s more defiant, more disobedient and more disrespectful towards the wolves. She’s sent home from school for blasphemy. She carries out her chores and hides away in her room. It’s like we’ve lost her.

Six months after my second selection, heavy storms have repeatedly hit the meadow lands. Some nights it has been torrential rain with thunder so loud that it shakes the house. Other nights, it’s gale force winds that howl and scream through the cracks in the bricks. It’s cold and it’s miserable.

The final storm is horrendous. There’s gale force winds, monstrous thunder and what I believe to be a years worth of rainfall. Then the lightning strikes. Enormous flashes of light striking the ground. It’s scary but fascinating to watch. Eventually, I manage to fall asleep, by covering my head with my pillow. And again, I dream the same damn dream of that wolf chasing me.

I’ve learnt to not scream, I’ve learnt to recognise that it’s a dream. It’s not perfect, but it works. Only this time, as the wolf bites down, something actually physically touches me. I dive from bed screaming.

“Easy Erin. It’s just me,” my Mother says with her hands raised in a non-threatening and calming manner. “Come. The crops are on fire. Help me put the fire out,” she commands.

We spend the next hour running back and forth from the well, throwing water on the flames, as my Dad beats them with a heavy tarp. We count our blessings when the rain starts. Slowly the flames die and we sink to the ground in exhaustion as we assess just how much we have lost.

Once the ground has cooled, I stalk through the crops, swiping at them with my Scythe. I don’t hold hope for anything being salvageable. I kick at my hacked and burnt harvest in frustration.

“DAMMIT. CAIT, GET OVER HERE!!” My Mother yells.

Dropping my Scythe, I run to help my Dad navigate over the uneven ground. “Steady pops, I’ve got you,” I smile as I let him loop his arm around my neck for balance and cradle his waist.

“Thanks sweetie,” he says as he taps my shoulder.

“I know you struggle. But please.. hurry up,” Mother tells us, as she impatiently taps her foot.

“What is it?” My Dad asks when we finally reach them.

“Look!” She almost snaps as she pulls away the ashen harvest.

“f**k! Why would they do this?” I demand when I register what she’s showing us.

“What?” Cait asks.

“This was no accident. The fire was set on purpose,” Mother tells her.

“Who would do such a thing?” Cait gasps.

“I think it’s time you tell us what your blasphemy at school entailed,” Dad tells her.

“What? You’re saying this is my fault?” She shrieks.

“No sweetheart. But you said it yourself after the last selection, that they target problematic people. I think it’s time you told us what you did and said.”

“Okay,” Cait concedes and hangs her head sadly, her blonde curls falling over her face.

“Inside, please,” Mother requests as she surveys the area.

Each of us are nursing a cup of cocoa as Cait finally tells us what happened. “I was just so angry at the way they struck her to the ground. The way they treat us like we’re nothing. During history class, I may have called them dogs that needed to be euthanised, and eventually I smashed the Alpha figurines. You know the ones that we must give our thanks to each day. Anyway, it turns out that they are actually wireless cameras. I can’t actually remember what I said when I realised that they spy on us even at school. Whatever it was, Mrs Cane was horrified and shaking,” Cait explains.

“My god, Cait. No more of this. Promise me that right now. Anything you have to say, you do it in the safety of this house. We say nothing and we do nothing. We can’t make this worse,” Mother begs.

“I promise Mother. What about the crops, can I help replant?”

“The land is dead. We’ll only be able to grow in the greenhouse, but there won’t be enough to sell.”

“I’m sorry, Mother,” Cait sobs.

The next year is tough. Not only do we not have any crops to sell, but the wolves fired my Dad too. The day he came back home holding his office contents in a cardboard box, we knew all of this was intentional. They intend to leave us destitute and needing to borrow from them.

I turn my hand to hunting, not very successfully may I add. I manage to catch a few squirrels and rabbits here and there, but not enough to feed us properly. We try to live off our greenhouse crops, but we soon run out and find we have no other option than to borrow. I try to take most of the borrowing in my name and hide my tears when I’m told that the new rate is two slips per helping.

By the time we are four months from the next selection day, I’ve worked out that I have almost 60 slips. There’s a strong possibility that I will be selected for ‘The Hunt’. But it has to be me. It can’t be Cait. Despite her rebellious outbursts after the last selection, she still isn’t strong enough for this.