Noises from outside, filtered in: the scuff of snow, the low rumble of a growl.
Heat. Heat surrounded her, filled her, and each breath burned. She stretched up to release her mother. Nearly at the buckle, she screamed when the window smashed inwards. Squeezing her eyes shut, she gasped as glass cut into her skin.
Pain, sharp and deep, lacerated through her body. She only had a moment to register the bite of pain before her ankle was pulled. Screaming, she thrashed as she was dragged from the car. Her hands flailed, looking for something, anything to keep her inside the car, to keep her with her parents.
“Mom! Dad!” she screamed.
Kicking and thrashing, she fought against the unseen attacker. Her foot connected; she kicked again and again until finally, the grip loosened on her ankle. She was nearly free, one more kick and she’d have crawled away, but she never made the final kick. White-hot pain, instant and all-consuming overwhelmed her. Metal gouged into her side, tearing flesh, devouring muscle. Her vision wavered. She half -blacked out as her body met freezing earth, and then she was nothing but pain.
Blinded by tears, she tried to fight, but her body had grown weak. The sounds of snarling grew closer, muzzles prodded, and teeth nipped. The sky above blacked out by the mass of wolves surrounding her. She didn’t fight. She didn’t scream. She felt strangely detached. This isn’t real. The sound of heating metal, the crackle and hiss of fire, and the nonexistent cries from her parents couldn’t be real; none of it was real.
She was pulled over the snowbank as the car was engulfed in flames and in the light of the fire, the wolves surrounded her; teeth and bites and snarls. Katalina lay unmoving as they tore her clothes and her skin, her blood seeping into the snow around her. She screamed, but she didn’t fight. What was the point? Her parents were gone... her life, her home, forever changed.
A distant bark drew her attention. Arne.
Katalina’s German Shepherd bounded over the snow, barking at the pack of wolves. “No, Arne! Go, they’ll kill you!” she gasped.
Katalina suddenly found strength. She kicked, punched, and clawed at the snow, desperate to get away.
Arne attacked just as a wolf went for Katalina’s throat. They tumbled away, the wolf and Arne, snarling and clawing at each other. With the wolves’ attention on Arne, Katalina struggled to climb to her feet, the bite on her ankle, slowing her down. She stumbled away, crying for her dog, but she knew she had to run.
In her brief escape, she thought for one hopeful second that she might live through this night. Relief trickled through her but immediately vanished and turned to fear; there was movement in the trees, dashes of grey and silver, streaks of white. More wolves emerged from the trees. A strangled cry left her lips as she sank into the snow; icy fear cutting off the use of her legs. Scrambling backward, her eyes fixed on the scene before her. Wolves attacked wolves, light against dark. They were a mass of tumbling fur and snarling teeth. The burning fire cast a warm glow over the whole scene, making the fighting appear as though a beautiful dance.
Forgotten, Arne limped over to where Katalina sat frozen in shock. Whining, he licked her face.
“Good boy, good boy,” she murmured, sinking her hands into his matted fur.
A grey wolf split off from the group toward her. Arne turned, growling, protecting Katalina. She tried to run, only to fall back down. The wolf grew closer, close enough that she could see the intricate pattern of white fur framing his eyes and fanning up to the tips of his ears. A scream built in her throat only to be cut off by a strangled squeak as the wolf turned into a boy.
“Run!” he told her, wrapping his arm around her waist and helping her up.
Too shocked to protest, she leaned against the boy, who was a foot shorter than her, but seemed ten times stronger as he easily supported her. He led her through the crop of trees, Arne by their side. Quiet now, the wolf-boy didn’t seem to be a threat.
The crop of trees led to another street, quiet like hers had been. The boy glanced behind him and muttered something she couldn’t quite hear, “Quick, over here. Find somewhere to hide. I’ll come back for you.”
He left her leaning against a wall as he ran away, changing into a wolf as he reached the trees. Katalina watched, frozen and wide-eyed, wondering whether she’d lost her mind, but the sounds of fighting wolves growing closer snapped her into action.
With the wall for support, she limped her way down the street and up a drive, her hand clamped over her side where the metal had torn into her flesh. Warm blood slowly seeped through her fingers and soaked her torn coat. She briefly thought of knocking on the door for help, but she wasn’t sure she could explain what had happened. How do I explain the wolf boy? Creeping quietly past the house, Katalina made her way into an old shed. She sank to the floor behind a stack of boxes. Arne sat beside her, his warm body thawing her frozen one. Shaking, she listened for the sounds of wolves or anyone coming, but only heard the frantic boom of her heart and the shallow pants of her breathing. Burying her face into Arne’s coat, Katalina cried. She couldn’t quite believe her parents were dead, that this night was even happening; but the hum of pain and the slow trickle of blood through her fingers were a brutal reminder.