Chapter 8- Sloane, ten years ago

We drive through the remainder of the night in the stolen truck, because when I open my eyes again, the sun shines brightly through the windows. For a moment, I forget where I am and all that has happened. But all too soon, it all comes flooding back to me, like a tsunami crashes inside my head, the kind Dad and I watched a documentary about once, and I wish I was still asleep. I don’t feel good. I ache in a lot of places and I wish Mom was here to take care of me. She always knows what to do to make us feel better when we’re sick. But Mom’s not here. And she never will be again because the monster killed her. She’ll never make me soup or ice pops or sing me to sleep when I feel bad ever again. That thought hits me hard and I nearly cry out. But I hold it in. Because I don’t want to scare my little sister. We only have each other now, and I will take care of her.

 CeCe is staring at me, as she fidgets, holding her small hands between her legs. It’s her need to potty dance. But she doesn’t make a peep otherwise because she’s afraid to draw the monster’s attention to herself. I start to sit up, but a large hand forces my head roughly back down against the seat.

“Stay down!” he orders from the front.

The monster doesn’t want anyone to see us. And that must mean people are looking for us. Otherwise, why would he care? Maybe, I can get someone’s attention somehow and we will be rescued. I’ll wait for my chance. I hope he doesn’t make us go into the woods again.

“We need to pull over somewhere, CeCe needs to go to the bathroom. And she needs some breakfast.”

“She can hold it. We are too out in the open. She eats and uses the bathroom when I say she does. My cub will learn to obey.”

I bite my lip until I taste the blood, “It doesn’t work like that! You can’t just order someone when to use the bathroom. She’s just a little girl! And if she is your cub, you should be taking better care of her! She hasn’t had a bath or good food or clean clothes in days.”

He snarls from the front seat, and I know I’ve gotten under his skin. The glow of his eyes in the mirror confirms it. I’m scared, but I’m also angry. CeCe deserves better than this, she needs better than this. We can’t survive on nuts and berries forever or hide in the woods for the rest of our lives.

“I provide for my cub! She has everything she needs!”

CeCe whines from the floor where she crawled to when he snarled. She looks at me with a pleading look in her tear-filled eyes. She is helpless. She needs me. And I will fight for her, be her voice because she’s too little and scared to speak for herself.

“Then prove it. Let her use the bathroom. Get her something to eat. You say I’m your mate, you say she’s your cub, then do better. Take better care of us both and show us how you’ll provide for us.”

The wolf isn’t happy about it, but with a hard jerk of the wheel and the slam of brakes, he moves onto the side of the road. I brace myself for his anger, the next tirade, or being jerked from the van and roughed up again, shown my place. But instead, he turns to face us in the backseat. He has sharpened fangs even when he doesn’t wear the wolf’s face.

“I protect and provide for what is mine. And you both belong to me. You only breathe because I allow it. You only eat because I allow it. You only relieve yourselves because I allow it. You only speak because I allow it. I’m going to enjoy breaking you. Bitches must be broken and trained to obey.”

He throws open the truck door and pulls me out by the arm roughly. He tosses me onto the dirt on the side of the road. CeCe squeals in terror as he reaches in and pulls her out too, though with less force than he did me. Cars pass by, but before anyone can see what’s going on, he latches onto my upper arm and drags me across a lot. The business is long since abandoned, an old video rental place, with broken windows and rotting wood. He doesn’t need to grab onto CeCe, because she follows us like a puppy, like Max did all the time.

The monster takes me behind the falling apart building where no one can see. He forces me onto my knees before him.

“Stay bitch! You will learn to obey and follow my commands.”

Bits of gravel and hardened mud dig into my knees. I glare up at him with all the hate I can manage on my face. CeCe stands nearby, her eyes swimming in tears. She hugs herself and shakes in fear. When I see the wet stain spread across her leggings, I look back up at the monster.

“I hate you. And I’m sure the moon does too. Even the moon could never love a monster like you. My mom could never love a monster like you. You’ll die alone and you’ll never find a place of honor in the sky! I don’t care what you do to me, if you claw me up again, or starve me, but if you hurt my sister, I’ll find a way to kill you! I swear that on the moon.”

I brace myself for the next strike of claws to come. For the first time, I see something besides rage or amusement on his face. For a moment, I swear I see something like shame or guilt, but it passes too quickly for me to be convinced it’s real. That faint trace of the man is gone as quickly as it appears and the monster is back again. Burning hot rage simmers in his eyes. But I won’t look away. I won’t close my eyes no matter how scary it gets.

I flinch when he reaches down, but instead of striking me, he grabs a handful of my hair and hauls me to my feet. I refuse to cry out as he winds his hands tighter into my hair, as the pain bites into my scalp, as my neck aches from the strain of his hold. As strands tear free in his brutal grip. He has my fear, but I won’t give him the satisfaction of my pain.

“You speak blasphemy against me and the moon! You will be punished!” he starts to drag me back towards the truck, “Come cub!”

My sister jumps at the harsh bark in his voice but follows behind us. I don’t tell him, he can’t punish me more than he already has. He’s taken my parents, Max, my home, my feelings of safety, my love of scary movies and the dark, everything from me, there’s nothing left to take. He flings me into the backseat roughly, reminds me to keep my head down. CeCe struggles to climb into the seat next to me, but it’s too high for her little legs. Before I can reach down to pull her up, the wolf has picked her up by the back of her neck, the way you would a dog, and deposits her next to me. I hug her close to help stop her tears. I kiss her cheeks but I don’t tell her things will be okay. I don’t feel like lying.

The monster keeps me in the dark about what my punishment will be and I don’t ask. CeCe cries herself to sleep next to me.  And that’s how we pass the next several hours of daylight and miles and miles of open road. I want to know where we are, but I don’t dare risk peeking my head out the windows to see. I’ve angered the monster enough for now, and if he kills me, CeCe will be all alone with him. She can’t survive without me because he won’t take care of her. He doesn’t know the things little girl’s need. In my pocket, I remember the stash of berries I slipped inside the empty pouch of trail mix last night, and I will feed them to her when she wakes. I know they are likely horribly squished by now, but at least my sister will have something to put in her belly.

 I need to go to the bathroom so badly, it hurts, but I hold it in. I can’t remember a time I ever felt this hungry or thirsty before. I’m glad CeCe sleeps, though she’s usually full of energy and tearing through the house like a messy tornado this time of day. I steal glances at the wolf every now and then. I hate him more and more with each second that passes. Daddy’s pocketknife is still in the backpack pocket, not far from me on the floorboards. I imagine taking the knife and stabbing out his eyes with it first. I hate his eyes, the way they glow, the way I see them haunting my dreams.

I hear a ding and I recognize the sound as Mom used to get mad at Daddy when she heard it, as she never let the van get less than half a tank of gas when she was driving. This truck is almost out of gas and that means the monster will have to stop somewhere to fill it or we will run out and the truck will die. I hope he gets more gas because I don’t want to walk anymore and I don’t want to go back into the woods with him. I don’t think he likes to walk out in the open in the sunlight and he prefers nighttime and the woods. The sun is still bright enough in the sky that it gives me hope he’ll want to keep driving the truck for now.

He growls at the sound of the gas gauge. I smile to myself because gas stations mean people and I can get help. As soon as he gets out to pump the gas, I will scream and do whatever I need to get someone’s attention. The police will come and save us. He won’t be able to tear them all apart or get away and they have bigger and more guns than Daddy did. The police will arrest him and they’ll take us somewhere safe to live, like Grandma Jane’s, and the monster will never get us again because he’ll be locked away in jail. We’ll be safe at Grandma Jane’s house and be happy again. CeCe will laugh and sing and make messes of her toys everywhere and I’ll go to a school I don’t have to move away from ever again and make lots of new friends and get invited to lots of sleep overs. But even as I try and convince myself of these things that’ll happen after we are rescued, I know it won’t be that easy, and things will never be the same. Without Mom, Dad, and Max, I don’t know if I’ll ever be happy again.

The monster slows the truck down and makes a right turn. Through the window, I can just make out the tall metal sign and some of the overhang of what I believe to be a gas station. My heart drums a crazy beat in my chest as I prepare to put my plan into action. The wolf must sense I’m up to something, maybe he can hear it in the way my heart jumps in my chest. He pulls the keys from the ignition and swivels back to look at us.

“Stay down and quiet, little bitch. Try anything and I won’t just punish you, I’ll punish my cub too,” he warns.

That gives me hesitation. He’s never threatened CeCe before. I’m willing to accept the consequences of my actions if my plan doesn’t work, but CeCe doesn’t deserve it. I have a hard decision to make as he opens the door and clicks the locks into place. He’s locked us in as he goes to the gas pump. My sister yawns away the remnants of sleep and looks at me.

“Lolo, I’m thirsty and I’m hungry. My tummy hurts. I want Mommy. I want Daddy. I want to go home,” she whispers.

She’s learned enough by now to be quiet as its easy to set the monster off into one of his rages. She barely speaks at all these days since he stole us. I have to make sure she’s safe and gets food and water and baths and a proper bed, and to do that, I need to get her away from the wolf. I nod at her and kiss her cheek. I swallow down the rock stuck in the back of my throat.

“Okay, sunny bunny. I’ll always take care of you.”

I look to see what the monster is doing. He’s pumping gas and watching the lot. I know there’s other people around this time of day as I can hear their muffled voices, hear the shutting of car doors, and the music from radios. I lean up from the seat and pound my hands against the window. I scream at the top of my lungs.

“Help! Help us! Help! Please help!”

An older man pumping gas into a red sport’s car locks eyes with me. He wears a business suit, and he is talking into a earpiece I think. But when he notices me, I’m dirty, my hairs a mess, and I beat against the glass screaming, he swallows hard and presses a button on a watch around his wrist. I think he’s going to call for help. I feel the hope in my heart. The police will come and save us! It’ll all be over soon.

 He’s not the only one around the gas pumps I see. A darker skinned lady with braids in her hair, notices me too and gasps. She comes towards the truck, but she doesn’t make it far, because the wolf is behind her too fast. I scream out and try to warn her, but it’s too late. His eyes burn gold as he grabs her head and twists. Down she falls to the ground below. CeCe is crying loudly again and has hidden herself between the seats. I beat against the glass harder until my fists ache and my tears fall free.

I’m trapped and I can’t do anything to help. I can’t escape with CeCe. I can only watch the man in the sports car try to run. He makes to jump back into his car, but the wolf is too quick. The wolf pounces. I can hear his screams through the glass. I look back towards the woman who doesn’t move. She was alive and trying to help me only seconds ago and now she’s dead because of it. Because of me. I can no longer hear the businessman either and I know the wolf has killed him too. But I don’t have the heart to look.

More screams from across the lot, another woman I’m sure, the sound of her shoes against the pavement as she runs away, as the wolf chases her. She doesn’t make it far, before he knocks her to the ground, and turns her neck until it pops. What have I done? The monster hunts the people trying to get away, only one car makes it away in time, with the squeal of tires and burning smell of rubber away from the pump, but no one else does. A man with a cane is too old to run and he falls next, falls before the wolf even reaches him. I slap my hand over my mouth, but I don’t look away. I watch. This is all my fault. All these people the monster kills are because of me.

The screams are the worst. My own have died down now. I cry silent tears. It seems like a thousand years have passed, but I know it’s only minutes really. The wolf isn’t going to let any of them live. He kills whoever saw us. When lifeless bodies litter the ground, I count six in all, he heads inside the gas station. I can see the clerk behind the glass counter, phone in his hands. I can see the terror on his face. The strong glass between himself and the monster doesn’t save him. To break through it, the wolf has shifted back into his fur, and the glass shatters like paper as the beast leaps. The clerk is taken down and I can’t see what happens to him next. Maybe it’s better that way. But I’ve already seen enough that I will never forget. The bodies in the lot lay where they fell, and I spot another in the passenger seat of a nearby car. People die because of me. People don’t just die at night; they also die on sunny days with not a cloud in the sky.

I press my forehead against the cool glass, “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”

But they can’t hear me and it’s too little too late. Sorry isn’t enough. It can’t bring them back. CeCe curls around my legs from the floorboards, and I can feel her little body shake. Her face is wet with snot and tears. I know she was too little to see what happened, but she heard it. I rub my hands through her hair.

The monster is wearing his human face, and the clerk’s stolen uniform, when he stalks back towards the truck. He’s covered in the dead man’s blood. I cower much in the way that CeCe does when he unlocks the truck and jerks open the door.  What is he going to do to me, to us? Will he kill me next?

“Disobedience has a price. Their blood is on your hands.”

He starts the engine and peels out of the lot. A bump jolts me up off the seat, and I know we’ve run over someone he discarded on the ground like trash. The crunching of bones makes me bite my own hand so I don’t scream out. CeCe is already scared enough. I can taste the sick rising up from my stomach.

 In the distance, I hear the sirens. Help is coming. But its too late. I make myself as small as possible and flatten against the seat. The cloth below catches my tears. I can tell he is angry, or rather annoyed, by his grunts, by the way he drives the truck. He goes too fast, brakes to hard, turns too quickly and bounces me and CeCe all around. We drive for a bit more, before a hard stop sends me tumbling into the seats in front of me, and CeCe bounces off them with a squeak. My baby sister is too afraid to even cry anymore.

“Get your stuff,” he says roughly.

I sit up and look around. My heart sinks by what I see. The monster is abandoning the truck on the edge of the woods. But in these woods, I can see palm trees dotting the landscape. I know that mean’s were in a southern State, probably one with an ocean. We have not driven far enough to be out west, and the night before we were in Tennessee, so I think we’re in Florida. We lived in Jacksonville for a while when I was nine. It hardly ever got cold there. It’s only March, and the air is warm, so I’m sure we are in Florida now.

I have little choice but to gather our things and help CeCe into her backpack. If I don’t obey the wolf, he’ll only hurt me and drag me out of the van anyway. When I don’t obey him, innocent people die. I’m scared he’ll make good on his threat to punish CeCe. So, I need to be on my best behavior, and I hope he forgets the promise he made earlier. I hope he only punishes me. So, I do as he says without back talk.

My eyes are swollen and red and I’m more thirsty than I’ve ever been before. The sun is starting to slip down in the sky, and I know it’s been a whole day since my sister and I last had something to eat or drink. My tongue sticks to the roof of my mouth and my belly cramps, but I’m more worried about her than myself. I’m bigger and stronger and can go longer without food and water than she can.

But I have no more tears to cry anymore, no more to spare. I go numb as I stare at the woods before us, the road at our backs. The road is our last link to civilization, to safety. I’m sure the police are out looking for us after all those people the monster killed at the gas station. I know it’s why he ditched the stolen truck and makes us walk again. He prefers the woods and thinks its safe for him there.

With CeCe’s little hand in mine, we trail the monster back into the woods. But this time, I don’t think I’ll ever come back out again.