More now since mom was gone.
He exhaled on a frustrated sigh. “If you go out there, and you immediately turn up three bodies…” He began.
I bit back my instant response of Not bodies, just bones.
“Don’t you think,” he continued quietly, “that people will wonder how we found all three of ‘em so quickly?”
Of course they’d wonder, but I forced myself to smile. “Nah. They’ll just think you’re a really awesome sheriff who solved three missing persons’ cases within a week of taking the new job.”
He didn’t smile back at me. He’d taken credit for one of my “finds” once, and I’d seen the guilt eat at him.
“Three is too many,” he told me, eyes intense. “Folks here aren’t stupid, they’ll start to wonder.”
About me.
“They’re dead, Anna.” Sadness darkened the words. “We can’t rush out into the woods and save them.”
“No, but we can give their families the bodies.” Closure, yeah, I knew how important that was. A shrink had told me all about it once. Apparently, I didn’t get enough closure in my life.
The shrink had been full of crap. So I’d first thought, anyway.
I stared at those woods. So dark. It’s closing in. Why couldn’t I get that crazy lady’s words out of my head? “We can’t just leave them out there forever.” That just wasn’t right.
Dad curled his hand over my shoulder. “We won’t. I’ll pull up some maps of the area. I’ll talk to the rangers who patrol out there. Based on what you told me, I’ll give them descriptions of the areas we’re most likely to find the missing hikers…we will find them, I promise you that.”
Just not right now. Probably not even tomorrow. Not too fast. He didn’t want to make folks look at me and say, “Freak.”
He turned me so that I faced him. “They’re already dead, Anna. Nothing can hurt them now.”
I wished I could stop thinking about them.
“I will find them,” he said again, and I knew he meant it. Dad always kept his word to me. Always.
I nodded and tried not to glance back at the woods. If I went out there, I could find them…
“No.”
My gaze flew back to him because there had been real anger in his voice. Dad didn’t usually get angry with me.
“I’m handling this.” Now there was steel in his words. “It’s my job, remember?”
Right. He had the shiny star. I didn’t.
“Try to get some sleep,” he told me, as his voice softened. “In the morning, everything will be better.”
That’s what he always said.
And I never called him a liar. After all, he was my dad.
***
Sometimes you know you’re dreaming, but there’s nothing you can do to escape the dream, no matter how hard you try.
You just can’t wake up.
I knew I was dreaming. I mean, why else would I be walking barefoot through the woods? The darkness surrounded me even as stars glittered above me.
I could hear crickets. Bugs. And…howls.
Fear pumped through me, and I called out, but no one answered me.
Then I saw the wolf. The same black wolf that had sliced me before. It stood on a fallen tree. Its jaws were open, showing its razor sharp teeth, and its glowing, yellow eyes were locked on me.
I turned and ran. The wolf snarled and chased behind me. I screamed, but no one came to help me.
No one.
I tripped and fell…fell into a pile of stark white bones. A skull stared back at me.
The wolf sank its teeth into my leg. I twisted, shifting desperately around to try and fight the wolf.
Its teeth dug deeper.
“Rafe!” His was the name I screamed in my dream.
Then he was there. Standing behind the wolf. Staring down at me.
“Help me!” He couldn’t just stand there…
Just a dream.
But he shook his head. “I told you not to go back into the woods. Now it’s too late.” He turned away from me.
I shoved against the wolf, but the beast snarled and came right at my throat.
“No!”
My yell broke from me as a whisper, but that small sound was finally enough to push back the nightmare. I woke up, soaked in sweat, with my heart racing far too fast.
My arm throbbed. I turned on my lamp with trembling fingers, and I yanked away the bandage that covered the claw marks.
No more blood. Just raised, angry red flesh.
In my mind, I could still see the wolf’s eyes.
I didn’t go back to sleep for a very, very long time.
***
When I went down for breakfast the next morning, I had a present waiting on me. I stared at the small, black tube on my plate, and then glanced at my dad. “Gee, you shouldn’t have.”