He remembered the smell of another man on his wife, a man he recognized. There was no suspicion, no guessing. He knew she’d been with someone else. The rub was he wasn’t as upset over her infidelity as he was with himself for not feeling more betrayed. He loved Donna, but there was something missing between them, something that only became truly perceptible after she’d turned him. Maybe children would’ve made a difference, filled that missing piece between them. He’d never know.
“I was happy for the distance between us,” he said. “Until…Jeezus, I can still hear that sound, that crash, like an explosion. I knew before I started running. I knew Donna was gone. I could feel it.”
“I heard it too.” Granny shuddered. “What an awful sound. I knew my boy was gone. I’m just thankful my Little Red survived. Lord knows how she did.”
Gray knew how she’d survived. He’d been the one rushing headlong down the hillside over the butchered swath of forest so fast no one saw him go by. With the family friends useless, gawking down at the ruin from the road through the rain and darkness, it was up to Gray to assess the damage.
The truck was on its roof. He’d recognized the unmistakable odor of death, a mix of bodily fluids and cold meat. The parents were dead. The smell told him before he’d reached in to check for a pulse. Neither had been wearing seatbelts. They were gone before the truck stopped.
Their little girl, Maizie, was buckled into the backseat, but the shoulder strap had slipped to strangle across her neck. She was unconscious, her little face turning blue. But she was alive-barely.
He tried to unbuckle her, but the lock had jammed in the roll. Breaking it was nothing for his enhanced strength. Her little body fell into his arms and for a strange moment, gazing down into her slowly pinking face, he could breathe. His mind didn’t allow him respite for long, though. The sound, the thunderous explosion of metal and glass, the hideous thud, and the instinctive knowledge Donna was gone all came crashing in on him anew.
He laid Maizie in a soft patch of ferns and slowly made his way to the front of the truck. He couldn’t see her at first, the way the truck was lying, the rain, the darkness, made seeing anything difficult. Then he crouched and peered under the front of the truck. Only her tail and hindquarters showed, soft brown fur, wet with rain, and blood.
Gray raced around the truck to the driver’s side front wheel. Donna lay at an angle, pinned between the fender and the tree, her front paws, chest and head spared the crushing weight of the truck. She was dead. She was dead before the truck had stopped-God willing.
How long had he stood there? How much time passed? He wasn’t sure. Maybe if he’d snapped out of it quicker, reacted faster, maybe he could’ve gotten Donna’s body away before the police showed up. But once the first cop tripped and stumbled his way down the hill, it was too late. These people and their pretty little redheaded girl had altered his life irrevocably.
And now that pretty little redhead was poised to do it again.
“I’m not mad. I’m just curious.” Yeah. If she said it out loud a few more times maybe she’d actually believe it. After all, what other emotion would make her do something this stupid. And, Maizie had to admit, walking deep into the forest at dusk, full moon rising or not, was stupid. Really stupid.
But she had to talk to him. She wanted to know why Gray had waited twenty-one years to give Granny the locket. “Twenty-one years. That’s a long time to hold on to something that’s not yours. Not that I’m mad about it.”
She wasn’t-really. It was just an excuse. More than anything she wanted to know about where he’d found it. Granny told her Gray had been there at the accident. But she was so pleased with having the locket back she didn’t seem to care what his being there meant. He could answer questions no one else could.
What had he seen? What did he know? Had her parents said anything? Were they alive? Did he see the wolf that’d killed them? She had to know.
Anytime she’d asked those sorts of questions of Granny, or anyone else who might know, she’d gotten sad puppy-dog eyes staring back at her and no solid answers. “Just put it behind you, dear,” Granny would say. “It won’t bring them back. Consider yourself blessed that you can’t remember.”
This time she had a good excuse to broach the subject. She had a firsthand source to give her some answers. She wouldn’t settle for puppy-dog eyes and placating clichés. This time she’d get her answers and that, more than anything else, pushed her into the forest to a place she hadn’t been in years.
Maizie shined her flashlight off to the left. The path was clear, dirt covered, with tall weeds and brush kept at a distance. A small turn of her wrist to the right and the beam exposed a swath of low weeds cutting through the forest eight feet wide. Beneath were the remnants of a long-forgotten path. She could still see the twin ruts like old tire tracks through the weed stalks, though as far as she remembered there’d never been an actual road.
This path would lead to the housing subdivision, the place she’d once called home. She hoped it would also bring her closer to Gray’s secret mansion in the forest. She had to find it again. She had to find him.
Maizie steeled her nerves and started walking. Her legs parted the weeds with each step. Green seeds and sticky leaves clung to her sweat pants and left dark stripes of dew along the gray fabric on her thighs and knees. Her mind raced, constantly analyzing sounds, shadows and strange movements.
This was a stupid risk considering she’d come face to face with the big silver wolf once already. And she was pretty sure he’d chased her and Gray from the lake the other day. The wolf had been anything but deadly though. Of course his patient demeanor might’ve been dumb luck.
If she could just remember the path Gray had taken from the lake she wouldn’t have to wander around trying to find the house by accident. She should’ve waited ’til morning. But she wanted answers and she didn’t even care that she’d have to deal with his strange family. She’d already waited long enough.
Maizie had checked every map of the area she could find. Not one of them showed roads beyond the gravel driveway to the Wild Game Preserve. The forest was like a blank spot, the Bermuda Triangle of Pennsylvania.
This way, a straight path on foot, Maizie was convinced was faster. At least if she got lost she’d be in the right part of the forest.
Her pace quickened, though for no good reason she knew. It wasn’t full dark yet, but she used the flashlight to scan the woods as she went, first one side then the other. Some small part of her brain realized the flashlight kept her at a disadvantage. The bright beam pinpointed her location for anyone or anything that might be tracking her.
She kept walking, body tight, eyes darting back and forth, hoping to accidentally shine the light on any attackers before they leapt. The odds were slim but that didn’t stop her from hoping. The overgrown path traveled upward, and when she shined the light to her left she saw the tops of trees.
A better look made her realize the forest floor dropped off a few feet from the path. A fearless traveler venturing from the trail here could find themselves tumbling down a very steep, very long hillside. Maizie didn’t want to think about it. Careening down hillsides was something she knew too much about already, even if she couldn’t remember. She kept walking, resuming her flashlight scan to the right and left as the forest leveled off.
After more than an hour, full dark had fallen and above, the moon’s soft white light barely penetrated the forest’s thick canopy. Finally, Maizie strained to see a few small flickers of light through the trees up ahead.