Chapter Eight

Chapter Eight

The wolf stopped moving when I did, holding just as still but looking far less afraid. If anything, it seemed eager, like it had been looking forward to this. But then, who didn't enjoy going out for dinner? We weren't much of a challenge, two defenceless women alone in a cemetery at night, but perhaps the idea of the hunter who lived for the hunt was a myth. Work smarter, not harder, that's what people said. Maybe this wolf was a genius.

‘Catherine.' I edged closer to my grandmother. ‘What do we do?'

‘We don't do anything,' she replied. Her voice was low and clear as she stepped in front of me. ‘And everyone walks away in one piece.'

She moved around me, positioning her body between me and the wolf. I noticed on her, fear looked an awful lot like excitement.

Oh good, I thought, back pressed against the Bell monument. My grandmother is certifiably insane. We were alone with a salivating wolf, and I had no phone and no idea how to get back to the car while she swayed from side to side with a feverish light in her eyes. Like a child about to open her Christmas presents.

The wolf raised one front paw, clawing at the air and the open gate as though something substantive was holding it back.

‘Do not cross that line,' Catherine ordered. ‘Turn around and leave while you can.'

‘Maybe we shouldn't be threatening it?' I suggested as calmly as I could. ‘Given that we have literally no way of defending ourselves?'

Shaking her head, she stood her ground, torso angled slightly forward, legs braced against whatever was to come.

‘Emily,' she replied. ‘There is always a way.'

What came next happened very quickly. I once read that the reason it feels like time slows down when we're in danger is because our brain speeds up to process everything that's happening, giving us more time to react. So when the wolf crossed through the invisible barrier and set its first paw onto the Bell plot, every single second split into a million more. I had a choice. Stay or go. Climb over the fence and run as fast and as far as I could. But running meant leaving Catherine behind, and even though I had very real concerns about her mental state and decision-making skills, I couldn't do it. Besides, I couldn't run fast enough to catch an ice cream truck, how could I outrun a wolf? There was no decision to be made, not really. I would stay. I would stand beside her. And I would fight. An unexpected charge shot up from the earth itself and surged through my whole body, urging me on until I found myself standing shoulder to shoulder with my smiling grandmother.

‘Oh, the mistake you have made,' she said softly.

But she wasn't speaking to me.

With a soul-splitting howl, the wolf reared back on its hind legs and launched itself through the gate, a blur of fangs and claws and matted fur. It didn't take kindly to threats. Without warning, Catherine pushed me out of the way, replying with her own battle cry, screaming as they collided, both bodies stumbling backwards into the monument. Her carefully styled hair came loose, swirling all around the two of them as they crashed to the ground as one.

Too much was happening all at once. Ears ringing, I pressed a hand to my forehead and saw blood on my fingers. Was it mine? Ignoring the shooting pain in my head, I rolled over to see the flash of the wolf's jaws and my grandmother's arms up in front of her face, its massive body pinning her small, fragile form in place. She was reaching for something, one hand scrabbling in the dirt beside her as the other fought off a mouth full of daggers. Her silver leaf-shaped pin. It glinted in the moonlight and before I knew what I was doing, I was on my hands and knees crawling towards it. The earth trembled and the steady beat of my pulse thudded in my ears, pushing me on. I grabbed for the pin but the wolf's hind leg shot out in my direction, slicing the flesh on my forearm and kicking it out of reach.

The branch , a voice commanded as I stared at the blood pulsing down my arm. Pick up the branch .

Then everything went quiet.

Catherine and the wolf continued to brawl, its teeth gnashing at her throat as she fended it off, but my focus was elsewhere. I knew what to do. All instinct, I stood slowly, grabbed a large, heavy branch that had fallen next to the Bell monument, and with strength I didn't know I had, raised it above my head and slammed it down as hard as I could. There was a crack and a whimper and the wolf rolled off Catherine's prone body, scampering away, staying low and close to the ground.

‘Can you stand?' I asked Catherine, brandishing the branch as the wolf began to pace back and forth. ‘We need to go.'

‘There's no time to run.' Her breath came in short, jagged gasps as she pressed her hand flat against her collarbone. ‘My pin, where is my pin? We need it.'

Obeying without understanding, I dropped my weapon and took three stilted sidesteps to the right where the pin lay nestled in the dirt. Never taking my eyes off the wolf, I stooped to pick it up, blood now pouring from my arm. Almost as much as I saw pumping out of the gash I'd left on the wolf's head. It streamed down its face, a sticky streak of crimson against its grey fur.

‘I have it,' I told her, back by Catherine's side as we all considered our next moves. ‘What now?'

‘Just keep hold of it,' she instructed. ‘Do you trust me?'

‘Yes,' I replied without hesitation.

‘Good. Because you're not going to like this.'

With a primal scream, Catherine stood and charged at the beast.

As it reared back for another attack, I seized the tree branch and swung at it again but this time I missed. The wolf wasn't coming for me. It charged straight at Catherine and she screamed as it lunged but I knew I could be faster, I knew I could save her. Diving into the fray, I hurled my body over hers, my eyes closed and her silver pin tucked into the hand I held out to protect us both.

When I opened my eyes, I was looking directly into the wolf's. Sickly yellow, streaked with violent red, the black pupils expanding then contracting until it was nothing more than a pinprick. The silver brooch was cool in my hand but everything else was hot and sticky, and when I looked down, blood was pouring out from its throat, painting all three of us a deep and vivid crimson. With a final tragic attempt at a howl and one last desperate snap of its jaws, the wolf slumped down on top of me.

‘Emily, you brilliant girl,' Catherine panted as I pushed the motionless body off me, my own breath coming back in uncontrollable gasps that couldn't quite fill my lungs no matter how quickly I gulped down the air. ‘You did it, you saved my life. You saved both our lives.'

But I couldn't hear her. All I knew were the matted clumps of bloody fur and handfuls of dirt that smothered all my senses. Whatever adrenaline rush had given me the strength to fight dissolved into nothingness and the ground rushed up towards me, promising blissful oblivion.

‘Emily? Emily!'

Somewhere deep inside, I registered a sharp palm striking my numb face and I came back at once. Catherine's eyes bored into mine as she dragged me up to my feet.

‘That's right, stay with me,' she said soothingly. ‘The worst is over now.'

‘It's dead,' I choked, looking past her to the pool of blood that was spreading out around the wolf. Too much blood to have come from a puncture made by one silver pin. The gravestones spun around me and I was certain I was going to be sick. ‘I killed it.'

‘It was him or us,' Catherine replied, her fingertips digging sharply into my shoulders. ‘Which would you rather?'

She was right, I knew that, but it didn't make the ugly truth any easier. I watched her as she turned the body over and extracted the silver pin from its throat. Carefully, she wiped it with the hem of her silk shirt, once an elegant ivory, now a horrifying collage of all the colours of war.

‘This came over from England with the first Emma Catherine Bell,' she said, pressing it into my hand, the central stone sparkling through a muted red smear. ‘Now it's yours.'

‘We need to go to the hospital,' I mumbled, clinging to the things people say in an emergency as I shoved it into my pocket. I didn't even want to look at it. ‘We need a tetanus shot, we have to call animal control, we have to call the police.'

Catherine stared at me for a moment, her ashen face streaked with blood – mine, hers, and the wolf's – and then she laughed. A short, sharp howl that shocked me back into the present moment.

‘And tell them what?'

With a look of foul disdain, she poked the corpse with her foot and its head lolled over to the other side, my stomach turning with it.

‘What we need to do is move the body,' she said. ‘We cannot have the custodian finding this scene on our family plot when he makes his morning rounds. Do you want this in the newspapers, on the internet? Do you want to have to relive it over and over while you justify and explain?'

‘No but—'

‘Do you want to be known as the girl who killed the wolf in Bonaventure for the rest of your life?'

I'd always worn unwelcome labels. The American who had never been to America, the girl whose mom died when she was a baby, the orphan whose dad was killed in that accident, and now I was back in Savannah, I'd already been christened the famous missing Bell baby. Did I really need another dark story following me around? I shook my head at Catherine.

‘No,' I said. ‘I don't.'

‘Then help me.'

Catherine ordered and I obeyed. Together, we pushed the wolf's body, still warm and supple with a seemingly endless stream of blood pouring from its throat, along the ground. I lifted my head to look past it, focusing on the trees in the middle distance. Whether it was coming for me or not, I killed this thing and guilt pulled me down like a pair of concrete boots. I couldn't swat a fly without feeling guilty about it.

Eventually, we heaved the carcass through a small cluster of palmetto trees and onto the bank of the dark, wide river as tears streamed freely down my filthy face. Falling backwards onto my heels, I closed my eyes and drifted away, thinking back to the day we'd scattered my dad's ashes in the lake in Wales. It was so peaceful, so full of love. It was not this. I heard a loud splash and when I opened my eyes, the wolf was gone. Waves, ripples, and then nothing.

Catherine pulled a wad of moss from the trunk of a nearby tree and pressed it to my arm to staunch the flow of blood still pouring from my wound. I sucked the air in through my teeth at the sting.

‘Hold that there and you'll be fine tomorrow,' she promised, pulling me up to my feet.

‘Are you sure?' I blanched when I saw my flesh through the damp green of the moss. ‘It looks deep.'

‘It may look ugly now but you won't need stitches. That thing's bark was worse than its bite.'

Now that I simply did not believe.

We leaned against each other, turning away from the river to stumble back through the cemetery, and as we passed the Bell monument, I searched the ground for traces of blood. But there was nothing to see, just a single fallen branch in front of the gate and nothing more. Bonaventure had already drawn the evidence deep into the earth, making a silent promise to keep our secret.

‘I was going to suggest we step out for supper,' Catherine said, an attempt at lightening the mood as we picked our way carefully through the darkness. ‘But perhaps that was quite enough excitement for this evening.'

‘Can't say I have much of an appetite,' I replied with a dry croak. ‘Besides, we're not really dressed for it.'

She pressed her lips together into a thin, grim line that turned up very slightly at the edges. ‘You saved my life tonight, my brave, bold girl. Your father would be so very proud of you.'

‘Do you think so?' I wanted so desperately to believe her. ‘I'm not sure, he was pretty anti-hunting.'

That earned a smile. Not the bright grin I'd seen on the way into Bonaventure but something more tempered and hard earned.

‘Anti-hunting but pro-keeping you alive. He would be proud.'

We reached a fork in the path. The right side in total darkness while the bright, silvery moonlight shone off to the left, beckoning Catherine and I on. We followed dutifully, the full moon guiding us through the trees and moments later, in the distance, I saw two blinding white lights. Barnett. The car.

‘I think it would be best if we didn't tell anyone about this, not even Ashley,' Catherine said, slowing down as we got closer. I looked over at her, waiting for the punchline of this strange joke, and saw she was entirely serious.

‘You don't think she's going to ask what happened?' I waved a hand at my torn clothes, my blood-covered body. ‘I think Barnett might notice too.'

‘Ashley will be in her room when we return and Barnett is very discreet.'

‘Your car has white leather upholstery,' I reminded her.

‘We'll put down blankets.'

‘But Catherine—'

‘It would be for the best,' she repeated more forcefully. ‘I must ask you to trust me and say nothing.'

The discussion was over. This was not up for debate.

Somewhere in the undergrowth, I heard a rustling sound, turning just in time to see a large, long-legged bird swoop out of the trees and soar off into the night.

‘Wolves hunt in packs,' I whispered, relieved not to see another pair of golden eyes staring at me from the darkness. ‘What if there's another one out there somewhere?'

‘There's always another out there somewhere,' Catherine said with a weary sigh. ‘But next time, you'll be ready.'

Next time?

‘You're sure there's no one we should tell?' I asked. I was shaking again, my limbs trembling at her casual certainty. ‘No authorities or anyone?'

‘Trust me, Emily,' Catherine replied as we crossed through the gates of the cemetery, officially leaving Bonaventure grounds. ‘No one mourns a wolf.'