Land of Wolves

"Get out of here! Run! They're coming for you! Don't you understand? They're coming!" The two hands shook the young brown-haired girl hard as her face was covered in confusion and panic. She kept saying escape like a mantra. Her pupils were wide, her face was pale and sweat-infused, and her voice was thin. It rather resembled the last desperate cry of a drowning man, not a powerful warning. Her eyes wandered back and forth, panning the black darkness that kept coming. The girl opposite her didn't move. She didn't say anything just standing and looking forward, as if she didn't understand the cause of the woman's fear. She slowly slipped her cold fingers onto the sweat-shimmering woman's wrists, then squeezed them firmly. That's how she tried to get her attention. Not just to look at her, but listen to what she says. "Calm down mom." She said, slowly, uttering every word to be sure of what she was saying, the woman in front of her would understand it. "There's nothing there. It's just another seizure." She tried to calm her down, but it only made her feel more nervous. The panic spread even more in her body and she wanted to escape with all her might, from the fingers that held her like iron bars. "Don't you understand? She gasped nervously. You're not safe here! None of us are safe! " "Mo... " But before she could finish it, the darkness took the pale, fragile, frightened woman, and in the uncut black mist there was nothing, but a blood-curdling scream. Kate sat in bed gasping, her sweat-wet tresses sticking to her forehead. Her heart was beating violently, and her stomach shrunk to the size of a pea. The nausea bit her throat as her weakened, shaky limbs made it impossible for her to get to the bathroom. This dream again. She tried to take, slow, deep breaths, put her head between her knees, in case it would make the sickness just go away. In the last few days almost every morning she got up sweating and with panic from this nightmare. It's been two weeks since her mother disappeared without a trace, and since then, every night, this nightmare has haunted her. Breathing exercises have become a routine for her during this time, but she still hasn't gotten used to the scary sequences her brain has shown. Sitting on the bed, she tried to focus her eyes on a single point until she filled her lungs with some air. Breathing in. Breathing out. She kept repeating it until she could feel the dumplings left her throat. The sickness was slowly disappearing. Her heart stopped jumping out of its place, and her pulse slowed down. Get some more air in and then slowly let it out. The remaining shreds of the dream disappeared, and her head was completely cleared. Her brain was finally able to distinguish between reality and the dream. Her sense of fear was gone, and her strained muscles became relaxed. Although her limbs were still weak and trembling, they were no longer stretched by the spasm of panic. She slowly glanced at the alarm clock on the nightstand. 5:00 a.m. Lately, it's been a new record for her. Although she was never a good sleeper, her mother and she were always going to bed late and getting up early. However, since her mother's disappearance, the usual sleep time of five to six hours a day has even reduced. In the last two weeks, she hasn't really managed to sleep more than two or three hours in a row. Usually, around three or four a.m. she woke up and after that, no matter how hard she tried, she couldn't get back to sleep. It was the first time she had slept through the night, but she didn't feel rested. She felt like every drop of power had been sucked out of her body. It wasn't physical fatigue, it was mental. Her body doing its daily routine, moving instinctively like a programmed robot, but her head is somewhere else. For a moment, she played with the thought of leaning back to bed. She wouldn't fall back to sleep, just laying down and not getting up. However, before she could resist the temptation, accompanied by a tired sigh, she leaned on the mattress of the bed with her palms and slipped to the edge of the bed. She gently lowered her legs onto the cool floor. She had to wait a few seconds before she could stand up. With her feet, she could barely feel the cold from the floor. It's like her soles and floors were separated by something, and it's the only way to detect the wooden panels through it. It's like when you sit in one place for too long, and your feet are so numb that when you touch something with it, it's like that limb doesn't belong to you. The difference was that Kate's legs were completely weak not from numbness, but from the panic attack that morning. She could only hope that if she let her body on it, it would keep her weight and she wouldn't fall. With her eyes, she scanned the empty room one more time. She was a stranger, but she shouldn't have been. Vaguely, she still remembered the years she lived here. After her mother disappeared, she came back to Colorado. In the house where they used to live together. In the house where only her father lived now. She remembered the house how it used to look. At least she thought the image in her head was a real memory, not an embellished distortion by her brain and desires. The house was never a luxury apartment, but compared to its current state, she would have found a motel room with cockroaches more like home. The walls of the room were whitewashed. The window was located opposite the front door, in front of a shabby table and a chair. Along the wall to the right of the window, was an old cabinet and at the left wall was a single bed. No carpet or painting. Nothing you think of that someone is living here. And the rest of the house could be described by this deplorable state. They never lived as an idyllic family, but the house used to have at least a slightly friendlier atmosphere. By contrast, it was now like one which was gutted. She used to dream about a normal family life as a child. She imagined what it would be like if her mother wasn't sick. If her father didn't have any alcohol issues. Somehow, in these dreams, the house was much more colorful. Not only was it friendlier, but it poured love right out of itself, with all the flowers in its garden and a cherry tree overshadowing its side, which she would have climbed on as a child. They would have had a car, although not the usual family car that's in every single garage. Not at all. It would have been an old hoopty that would break down all the time and have to be fixed every week, but they wouldn't sell it because they love it. She imagined the white walls of the house covered with nicely framed family photographs full of smiles. In the kitchen, there would always have been delicious scents from the cakes her mother and she made and which their dog would have eaten up. As a child, she always imagined the ideal family life like this. If other kids were playing in the garden with their mom or daddy, she always thought their happy lives could be similar to the image that she had in her head. As a child it was hard to accept that she could not have such a life. That instead of a happy family, she received an alcoholic father, a mother suffering from paranoia, and that they had continually moved since her age of five. Among the numerous memories it was difficult for her to remember her childhood. The house didn't keep any memories. All their old belongings had disappeared. This might have to be painful because her childhood memories are fading and there's nothing to preserve them. But the truth was that when she went away from here with her mother, she still thought a lot about this place, but then it slowly wore out and erased in her head. She didn't miss this place, and she didn't think of it. She rather tried to accept the life she was given and fits in. She was five years old when she moved away with her mother. That night she woke up to the noises of breaking glass and shouting. She went down the stairs stealthily. Behind the wall she was peeking at her parents. Her father was drunk again. His upper body was lying on the table, and his right hand hanging in the air alongside his body with a broken beer bottle. Her mother yelled, hacked and scattered papers in front of her father from a drawer. They may have been letters. She didn't see exactly and never asked. Her father was so wasted that he probably did not catch what was happening around him. Her mother once just stopped shouting and hacking. She watched her helpless husband with a narrowed eye and a tightened jawbone, then she turned around and went to the direction where Kate was hiding. She was frightened when she noticed her mother approaching. She didn't want to be caught on spying, so she tried go upstairs to her room in a hurry. But her legs slipped. Just in time she managed to catch the stair railing so she didn't roll down, but she hit her right knee nastily. When she looked back over her shoulder she found herself face to face with her mother's glassy look. She remembered the facial expression of her mother. No surprise. As if from the beginning she could have known that their daughter would be spying after them. The words that was out of her mouth, burnt in Kate's mind forever. "Go and pack. We are going to leave." All this happened thirteen years ago. Since then, a lot has changed, and fate has now brought her to sit in her childhood room on the edge of her old bed, wondering when it all went wrong. She wondered how much Kate who's here is alike and how different she is from the old Kate, who has already gone. She was slowly standing on her legs and getting off the bed. She was waiting for a few moments before she felt completely stable and then headed for the battered cabinet. In Colorado, in August, the heat was pretty scorching, so she chose one of her shorts and a top. Although now she focused on finding her mother, she felt her body needed some running. It'll refresh her brain well enough to be able to think. When she ran down into the living room after the shower, she wasn't surprised to find her father knocked out on the couch. Kate preferred peace, so since she arrived, she hasn't said a word to him. She was trying to become invisible like a ghost. Although she didn't have to strain herself, as her father didn't struggle to start a conversation. She hated seeing her father like that, but she didn't know what to tell him. Their relationship was never an idyllic father-daughter relationship. They didn't have a thing in common, and she didn't want to fight over alcohol. After all, it wasn't her home anymore. She felt herself an intruder in her own house. A stranger. Moreover, it wouldn't have made sense to build the bond between them from the very beginning, for as soon as she found a clue, she would leave again. Just like they did with her mother years ago. And who knows if she ever comes back. That may not have been a very nice attitude from her, but this man here on the couch was rather a stranger to her. The only thing that connected them was the DNA. Sometimes it was easier to think of him as a simple sperm donor, because no matter how hard she tried, she couldn't feel anything towards him but sorrow. She didn't have much for breakfast. Just a glass of orange juice and chewed a slice of toast. The clock above the kitchen door stroke half past six in the morning. It was time for her to leave. Even in the early hours of the morning, it was hot. As soon as she stepped out of the house, her face could feel the humidity and the heat, causing her skin to sweat. The heat radiating from the asphalt and the fact that the street was barely surrounded by trees just made it more unbearable. One would think every town in Colorado resembles a small forest with a lot of pines. The outskirts of the town indeed had this view, especially the mountain roads. However, on the plains of the town center, only a few places were overshadowed by trees. There was no river or lake along the city, around which fresh, cool breeze would caress one in the summer heat. Those who wanted to escape from the heat went on a trip in the mountains to the freshwater streams. There were plenty of lakes in the mountains of Colorado, but settlements were usually surrounded by wasteland. In the major cities there were parks, ponds tempting not only tourists, but also local residents to a pleasant afternoon picnic. Ward, however, was not a big city. Thousands used to live here in the old days, but now there were hardly 200 inhabitants. Most houses stood abandoned along the road, with ramshackle walls and paint coming off. Only the surrounding mountains and the animals in the forest gave life back to the city. This wasn't the place people liked to go on a vacation. Tourists preferred the nearby, larger cities, and if anyone did come here, they were probably attracted by the half-ghost city atmosphere. As Kate was walking down the road and looked up on the mountain in front of her that was lit by the sun, she had to realize that no matter how many states or major cities she could ever be in her life, nowhere would she find a more impressive state than Colorado with its small towns. Not only were the mountains and forests embracing the city beautiful, but also the lifestyle of the people was unique. It was natural and ordinary here that a bear popped in as an uninvited guest during the garden party – the clothes hanging from the dryer landed on the ground because of some raccoons, or the morning traffic stops completely by a moose lying in the middle of the main road. The people here weren't afraid of wild animals. They had learned to live with them. Luckily, it made it pretty easy for Kate. It was easy to spot who was native and who was here just to pass through. Foreigners were afraid of nature. They were particularly careful not to face a bear cub on a corner. It was easy for Kate to be informed. She knew who to go to at the newsagent or in the coffee shop, who to interrogate, who might be able to give news from anywhere else in the world. Kate hoped that if her mother's abductor was after her it would be as easy to spot. She ran at least 6 miles before taking a rest. That was her daily dose that she would never give up. Lately, she got hooked on the café by the main road. Although their coffee was lousy, the place was perfect to gather information. The Brownie's was inside the city center, off the main road, yet close enough to the highway, not far from a gas station and a truck stop. Although Kate didn't talk to anyone, she was just watching and eavesdropping. She was watching people and trying to figure out where they were coming from, where they were going, and what they were doing. She listened to what they were talking about and was trying to determine if there was anyone who might be worth accosting. She didn't want to attract too much attention. It reminded her of the old days when she and her mother used to go to the coffee shops together. They used to order for themselves a batch of pancakes while watching the people around them. Although she was concerned about her mother's paranoia and in most cases hated having to move all the time and that she couldn't make friends or play with children of her age, she loved this task. She liked to imagine what other people's lives might be like. Once, a very nice couple came into one of the cafés. The woman's blonde, thick hair was shiny and silky, and her eyes were so blue, almost sparkling. And the man was bewitchingly cute with his thick brown hair, his protruding cheekbones and his green eyes. At that time, she compared them to Barbie and Ken or to members of some royal family. Her mother scolded her for all these stupid, childish fantasies. She never liked stupid day-dreams. She always took everything seriously, and she had tried to raise Kate to do the same as her since she was a little girl. Analyzing people was also a serious task, she didn't do it to make her daughter have fun. In these moments Kate was always sad. She couldn't understand why she couldn't be like the other kids. Why couldn't she live in the secure, sheltered and colorful dream world of children. That time, she didn't understand that her mother was just trying to prepare her for life. She didn't understand that until Eva disappeared. But her mother was right that it didn't make much sense for a famous actor or royal couple to come to the most run-down café in a dusty little town to drink coffee for fifty cents apiece. So the happy daydream image was quickly over. Observing them more, she noticed that, in addition to the men's branded clothing and accessories, the woman's clothes and jewelry were merely expensive imitations. She may have been a little girl who made fantasies about princesses and princes, but she wasn't stupid. So the gleaming image quickly shattered and she realized that they were an influential man and an escort girl. The reason why they came here, was probably because there was already too much media in this guy's life, and in spite of the discretion of luxurious restaurants he couldn't risk getting spotted through the window or in the street. Because of the constant moves, Kate had never had an affair with boys, but she had seen many happy girls with boys who could sweep anyone off her feet with his appearance and fake charm although not matching the girl by his side at all. And then two days later, the same boy showed up with another girl. It was an important lesson for life. Not just in the field of relationships, but also of everything else. If something's too good to be true, you should get out of it. Thanks to her mother's tasks Kate was able to gather information without having to ask, and this lesson meant that she knew exactly what she could believe and when she had to doubt something. After buying her coffee, she occupied a seat far off, in the corner next to the back wall. She took a newspaper and watched from behind. From time to time she flipped through the pages with one eye to see if she could find something interesting in it, but she was mainly watching the people moving around her. The bell at the café door rang, indicating that a new guest arrived. "Hey, Joe." Shouted a big grey bearded man as he entered the café. "I haven't seen you for ages." The owner of the café, with a big grin on his face, stepped out from behind the counter and went to the stranger to pat his back. From that, Kate learnt exactly that the owner was a good friend, maybe more, like a brother or a cousin. It attracted her attention right away. Not because the owner and his friends were interesting, not at all, but because, based on her experience so far, the elderly couples had been treating the middle-aged owner almost as a family member and sometimes cracked a childhood joke. She knew, the owner himself was from here, and most likely the café was not built much earlier than just a few years before. So if he knew this man, it wasn't from a previous life elsewhere. Either this guy was a local or he used to have some work here or it was his studies that made him spend a lot of time in this town. Which meant he might have known her mother from before. And if he was travelling the country now – the company logo on his baseball cap and the typical plaid shirt suggested her that he was a truck driver – he may have met Eva before, not just here. So he could have provided her far more information than any of the locals, but he could also be dangerous for Kate. He might have seen her before too. "How is it going these days? Would you like a coffee?" The owner asked as he walked back behind the counter, and the big guy followed him. Kate tried to hide even more behind the newspaper and pretend to focus heavily on reading as she almost fell off the chair trying to slip just an inch closer to the counter to hear what they were talking about. "I haven't had a job around here for the last few years. And the company is in decline. The owner has recently failed in his attempts. Sometime the business prospered, other times it went to bankruptcy. Our partners change almost every two months, not to mention the goods we deliver. One day you deliver iron and the next day it's oil." This conversation justified Kate's hypothesis. The guy was a truck driver. "Why on earth did you leave the company?" The owner of the café replied, in a reprimanding tone. "Did you at least find what you were looking for?" The guy slowly took a sip of his coffee cautiously scanning the people in the café. His eyes settled on Kate for a moment. For a second it seemed as if something had flashed in his eyes, so Kate pulled the newspaper even more into her face to completely hide herself from the man's field of sight. She felt that her move was too quick displaying panic. Even through the sheets she could feel the guy's burning look on her face. She knew that her rushed, nervous move had betrayed her. Now she felt like when she was drinking her coffee at the gas station in Chicago. Her stomach shrunk again to the size of a pea, her hands trembling, and the drops of sweat rolling down one by one on her back. However much she tried to stop the memories, they overwhelmed her brain and the events were spinning like picture frames in front of her again. On the streets of Chicago, there was a cool wind as Kate took the cover off the steaming coffee. They had money for odd jobs. Her mother helped unload fishing boats at dawn and in the evening. The dock work was well-paid and no one was interested in where she had come from or where she was going. It was the safest job they could take. This was the reason, why in most cases, they wanted to stay in a seaside town. Most of the time, Kate was with Eva. However, she didn't go that night. It was time for them to keep going, while Eva was at work, she stayed at the motel to pack everything up. They had agreed to meet here at the gas station, they had to refuel anyway. So Kate leaned against the dirty wall of the gas station and calmly blew her coffee. After a few minutes, however, the calmness began to vanish and a strange, anxious feeling took its place. Eva should have arrived by now. It was not just like her to be late. Kate's stomach got full of restless butterflies, a kind of nervousness unknown to her so far. The hair on her arm got bristled up, and it wasn't just because of the chilly weather. She could feel the drops of sweat rolling down her back, and her heart was beating as fast as if it were trying to imitate the drum solo of a rock band. She felt an almost constant urge to walk or run. No matter where, just run. She had never felt that way before. She wondered if her mother felt that way every day. Maybe was it her mother's paranoia that was tainting her over the years and she was going crazy? She was about to move to the bin to throw out the coffee, since in such condition of her nerves, her body didn't need extra boost of energy, when her phone rang. Kate's body froze. It was as if the world around her had stopped and she couldn't move. She could feel her heart in her mouth. She had to force herself to reach for her phone in her pocket and her trembling fingers to push the right button. Before she could say anything, a powerful and desperate female scream had been heard from the other side of the line. "Run Kate! Run! They're coming for you, too! Escape!" The coffee spilled onto the grey asphalt leaving a brown spot and the cheap disposable phone broke into pieces as it met the hard pavement. Kate didn't question her mother's orders. The backpack hit her back heavily with every step. However difficult every step was, however much she felt that her muscles were screaming in pain no matter how the heavy weight was pulling her back, she kept moving forward because she felt that the danger from which she had to escape was real.