Chapter Two Flynn

Six Hours Earlier

T he chickens were screaming at me again. Why were the chickens always screaming at me?

"What?" I barked at one of the closest hens. "What the hell do you want? You've been fed, you have water, and I already cleaned your damn coop like three times this week."

The hen looked at me, took a step forward, and pecked at my boot. Then she turned her head up, staring at me with one wide golden eye.

"I don't speak chicken, you grumpy old bitch."

"Flynn Charles Daniels!" I heard my Nana say from behind me. "Language!"

Having three first names was bad enough, but hearing them all yelled at me from twenty feet away from an old woman that claimed to not be able to hear well was something else.

"What do these damn chickens want?" I called back. "They're never happy!"

She just shook her head, grinning like she always did. "They want treats." Leaning down, she lifted a small, covered pail by the front door and began to drum her hand on it, calling out over the yard. "Chick-chick-chickens!"

Her call sounded vaguely chicken-ish and I couldn't help but laugh as every hen and rooster, no matter where they were or what they were doing, came running from all corners of the farm right up to the front door.

"See?" she smiled, reaching into the pail and throwing a handful of sunflower seeds over the clucking birds. "They just needed a little midday snack."

My entire family claimed this old woman was insane, but I just didn't see it. The longer I spent with her, the more I realized she had a lot more figured out than people gave her credit for. She always knew what the animals wanted, she could predict the weather a full day ahead of time without ever watching the reports, and she ran this entire farm by herself for the past twenty years after my grandfather died. The only thing she struggled with was some of the heavy lifting. But considering she was damn near eighty-five, I thought she was doing pretty fucking well.

Now if she'd just get off my back about the swearing.

"You've spoiled them rotten," I commented as I came back up to the porch. I pulled off my leather gloves and wiped the sweat dripping down my forehead. "They're harassing me day and night."

"Flynn honey, they're chickens. All they do is eat and make eggs. They have no other motivation."

"Clearly." I glanced down at the pitcher of sweet tea sitting on the patio table. "Is that for me?"

"Mm-hmm. Should help you clean up that mouth of yours."

"Come on Nana. I've heard you say way worse."

"I use my words like seasoning," she huffed. "You use yours like manure."

"I have no idea what that means."

I poured myself a glass and lifted the cool liquid to my lips, savoring the sensation as it ran down my parched throat. Nana made the best sweet tea in all of Fenris as far as I was concerned. I didn't need to try anyone else's to know that was true.

"You'd know what I meant if your mother didn't run off to the city and stay there. Now you don't have a lick of sense."

"I'm doing alright," I protested. "I only got attacked by the goats once this week!"

She shook her head. "What about the milking incident?"

"First of all, I didn't know that it was a boy goat. They all look the same."

"How many goats only have one udder?!"

"I thought she was an amputee! I was trying not to be judgmental!"

"Flynn Charles…" she sighed, shaking her head.

"Just use one first name," I sighed back. "I'm begging you."

Nana put the lid back on the sunflower seed pail and sat it next to the door. She shook her head at me but grinned anyway. If there was one thing Nana and I were good at, it was driving each other crazy. In the best way possible, of course. She thought she could out sass a twenty-two year old gay man, and I was gonna prove her wrong. I don't think we'd ever had so much fun.

"You got all them chores done?"

"And then some," I nodded. "You mentioned something about cleaning out Grandpa's old shed? The locked one behind the barn, right? Did you want to do that before I head out?"

She smiled but shook her head. "Nah. That's something we can do another day. It's going to take some time."

I could see the hint of sadness in her eyes. Even after all these years without him, she still wasn't ready to part with his old things.

"Whenever you're ready," I added, patting her on the shoulder. "I know you still miss him."

She nodded slightly and straightened herself up. "There's a lot of years tucked away in that shed. Some of them are good years and some of them are bad. But everything still smells like him and it's hard to let it go."

"You don't have to get rid of anything, Nana. Nobody will force you. "

"I know that," she sighed. "But there are things in there I need you to see. Things I couldn't show your mother because she ran off. But our family history shouldn't die with me, even if she doesn't want to be part of it."

"Our family history?" She was piquing my interest with all this vague talk. "What are you talking about?"

"You'll learn soon enough," she said with a sad smile. "But that's something for another day."

"Nana… are you okay?"

She nodded, heaving a great sigh. "Anyway, do you still insist on hiking the mountain tonight?"

"Come on Nana, I like being out in the woods. It's a nice way to relax." I waggled my eyebrows at her. "How am I gonna catch me a man if I don't stay fit?" She just shook her head at me. "Besides, I wish you'd come with me."

"No way," she replied, her expression suddenly serious. "There's wolves on that mountain. Always has been and I don't want to tangle with their kind. You're not… prepared for that kind of altercation."

"Nana, there hasn't been a wolf in this town for over a hundred years."

"I seen them with my own eyes. I know the truth." She gave me a stern look. "So, you make sure you keep to the path. And whatever you do, do not go east." She lowered her voice, pointing towards the eastern mountain. "And if you see the black wolf with scars… run ."

"Yes Nana," I sighed, knowing it was useless to argue with her. I'd tried before and I always failed. But she was getting more sinister with her warnings by the day, and I was getting worried.

This whole wolf business was the reason the entire family thought she was crazy to begin with. Apparently, she told my mother some story about how a wolf attacked her when she was a little girl and nearly killed her. She said she and grandpa had to drive it off with a gun to save my mother from being eaten. Then there was something about silver bullets and I wasn't sure if Mom was just making that up, or maybe Nana had watched too many horror movies. Either way, my mother didn't recall any such thing ever happening to her, of course.

And then when Nana started claiming that all the mountains surrounding Fenris were overrun by wolves, people started to suspect that she'd finally lost her mind completely. She was at that age where it was completely possible that dementia was setting in, but as far as I could tell, she seemed perfectly sane. Except when she talked about the wolves, which was almost every day now. Still, it didn't seem like a disease or something like that, just that she'd gotten an idea in her head and couldn't let it go.

It was like the wolves haunted her. Whatever they were.

For the past twenty years, she'd been living on that little farm on the side of the mountain all by herself. Sure, there were a few people in town she knew, and she was a regular at bingo night at the old folks' center. But she still spent almost all her time alone. Chances were she'd just started making up stories to keep herself entertained and it got stuck in her mind. Hell, maybe someone in town she trusted told her some crazy story and got her all riled up. She didn't have internet and her television only got local channels, so maybe it was that. I had no idea. But I did know that she wasn't crazy. That woman was sharp as a tack.

I ducked into the house to grab my bag and a fresh pair of clothes. I'd already pretty much rinsed off under the hose, another habit of mine that drove Nana crazy. She told me I looked like a dime-store floozy spraying myself down half-naked in the yard. I told her that I'd be happy to get a dime if some attractive man wanted to come watch. That always made her laugh.

Changing into my hiking boots, I threw the little backpack over my shoulder and stepped out onto the porch again. The bag might seem a bit silly, but it had water and my sketchbook journal in it, both of which I'd need once I got to the top of the mountain. Fenris had the most beautiful scenery I'd ever laid eyes on and since I was fresh out of art school, I needed all the practice I could get. Sketching chickens was alright, but they moved a lot. The landscape never moved, so it made an easy subject. However, I wished I had some models to work with. Drawing people was my favorite thing to do.

"You've got your water?" Nana asked, looking up from her ancient wooden rocking chair.

"Yep."

"And a pocketknife?"

I sighed. "Yeah, it's in there too. Not sure who you want me to stab while I'm out, but I have it."

"You never know," she said. "Hill folks can be just as dangerous as the wolves sometimes. Last winter, old Tom got into a bad batch of moonshine, and he was mad as a possum for damn near a week."

I just shook my head. The things that came out of this woman's mouth. "I will keep that in mind," I replied at last, stifling a smile. "Bye Nana," I said, kissing her on the forehead.

"Don't be out past dark," she added as I stepped off the porch. "And don't go east!"

"I know."

"And stay on the path!"

"Bye!"

I gave her one last wave before I jogged across the farmyard and slipped into the woods. As soon as I was out of sight of the house, I let out a big sigh. That woman was paranoid. I'd been hiking the mountain almost every day since I arrived nearly two months ago. There were never any wolves, any crazy people, or even semi suspicious people. The most I'd ever run into was a person or two out on a walk. We exchanged a friendly greeting and kept to ourselves. Besides, they were anything but intimidating, dressed in stark white tennis outfits that looked too clean to be allowed outside.

Nana lived practically at the bottom of the mountain. However, there were several well-worn paths that led further up and over the peak. On the other side was a hot spring resort, which is where all the fancy dressed people came from. The resort owned the majority of the mountain, and they maintained the paths for their guests to use. I'd never been there, but I doubted anyone running a resort had time to worry about little old me. All I ever did was hike to the top to sketch, journaled a bit, and went back down without ever leaving a trace that I'd been there.

I think a part of me hoped that I might meet a hot resort goer on the mountain. He'd be a doctor, of course, and fabulously wealthy. Then he'd fall head over heels in love with me and pay for everything so I could live my life making art and working on my Nana's farm. And of course there'd be a big white wedding. He'd treat me like I was a prince, and everything would be perfect forever after.

Except my life wasn't a Hallmark movie and the only guys that ever showed interest in me were the ones who had nothing and liked to treat me bad. Not that I needed a rich guy, but if I was going to fantasize, I might as well have everything, right?

The truth was, I'd be happy to find anyone that simply treated me right, rich or poor. But being twenty-two, gay, and living in the foothills of Appalachia wasn't doing me any favors. I'd had enough hookups in college to last me the rest of my life, and I was starting to crave something more meaningful.

But there was no fucking way I was gonna find that in Fenris.

No, it was best to just enjoy my time here while I could. I'd spent so many summers visiting Nana in her little house on the mountain that I practically jumped at the opportunity to come live on her farm. My mother didn't like the idea, but she also wanted to shove Nana in a home as soon as possible and sell the farm. I wouldn't hear of it, so I took the leap and moved down from the city to live with her. And in exchange for keeping everything running smoothly, she kept me fed and housed, giving me all the time I wanted to work on my art. Nana thought my drawings were amazing. My mother, on the other hand, thought I'd wasted four years of my life and a lot of scholarship money pursuing something useless.

Maybe she was right. But I wasn't ready to give up just yet. I'd had my whole life to dream up what I wanted to be, and I wasn't going to abandon it the moment I left school just to appease my parents. If this dream of mine was going to come true, I had to work at it. And that's exactly what I planned to do.

Now, if I could just find some hot guys to draw, my life would be a million times better. Hopefully, they liked to get paid with blowjobs, because that was the only currency I had to offer at the moment. And well, maybe Nana's chocolate chip cookies. She made the best cookies in the entire world.

With my mind completely filled with images of hot men and chocolate chip cookies, the hike slipped by quickly. I was at the top of the mountain before I knew it. I left the path, taking a secret game trail down to the edge of a cliff face where a big boulder sat that was perfect for drawing. Crawling on top of it, I sat cross-legged and took out my sketchbook.

In front of me, the mountains undulated to the horizon and beyond, their hazy outlines turned blue by the humidity in the air. I was facing due west, the sun barely touching the peak of the nearest mountain as it headed down for the night. I took out my pencil and began to sketch

quickly, knowing I only had a few minutes before the scene would change completely.

The drawing I came up with wasn't half bad, but it was a bit uninspired. There was something missing, although I couldn't quite put my finger on it. Landscapes always felt like that for some reason. I could never really figure out why.

With a shrug, I tucked my sketchbook back in my bag, took a drink of water, and just as I was about to zip my bag up, I saw them. Reaching in, I pulled out a small container of Nana's cookies and smiled. She must have slipped them in my bag without saying anything. She'd been on a rampage about how skinny I was lately, so this was probably her way of fattening me up.

I couldn't help but smile as I held one between my teeth and put the rest back in my bag. Hopping off the stone and shouldering my backpack, I headed back to the path. The sky was growing dark quickly and I wanted to be home so Nana didn't worry.

Munching happily and humming to myself, I didn't notice the wrong turn I took until it was too late. Suddenly I was surrounded by trees and the path below my feet had disappeared. The forest was growing dark quickly and while I wasn't panicking, I knew I needed to get back on it before I really got lost. Taking out my phone, I flipped on the flashlight and started to walk.

However, the moment my foot landed, the ground gave way and I fell.

◆◆◆

I didn't know how long I was out, but when I came to consciousness at last, it was well past dark. A searing pain tore through my body and a quick glance explained it all. The sharp edge of my broken tibia was sticking out of my skin on my right leg. I must have broken it when I fell. Not only that, but my phone was nowhere to be found.

"Fuck…" I muttered, forcing myself into a sitting position with my back against the wall. "This is bad…"

It was much colder now that the sun was gone, and I was wearing nothing but a sleeveless hoodie and some skimpy shorts. I pulled the hood up over my head, knowing it wouldn't do much to help me stay warm. Thankfully, it was high summer, so I'd probably survive the night if I didn't bleed out first.

What if a predator smelled the blood?

Thankfully, my backpack was still on my shoulders. I pulled it off and dug around inside. Pushing the water and crushed cookies aside, I found what I was looking for. With a silent thanks to my Nana, I pulled out the pocketknife she'd given me. It wasn't much, but at least if something came after me, I could defend myself. I just had to make it until morning. Nana would have people combing the entire mountain by then. There was no way they wouldn't find me.

But I was so cold. Probably from the blood loss and I didn't have anything to help with that.

I found myself more irritated than fearful as I sat there, staring up at the full moon. I'd come to Nana's farm to help her out, not break my fucking leg and be useless for the rest of the summer. How was she supposed to keep up with everything without me? Now my mother was going to come down and tell me this was what I deserved for not just getting a normal job. Then she'd stuff Nana in a home and drag me back to Asheville.

Why couldn't things just be easy for once?

That's when I heard the rock.

My gaze snapped to the side, my eyes widening in fear as a massive white dog appeared from the shadows. I scrambled backward, dragging my injured leg through the dry leaves. The dog cocked his head to the side in amusement, then started toward me.

"Nice doggie," I said, my voice shaking with fear. "Please don't eat me…"

It just wagged its tail. Probably because it knew I was an easy meal. I wasn't about to hope that this dog was going to save me, like in some Disney movie. No. I was most likely dinner to it.

"Jesus fucking Christ," I muttered as it got closer.

It was so much bigger than a normal dog. I heard Nana's voice in my head once more, telling me that the mountain was overrun with wolves. Could she have been right all along?

I waved my tiny pocketknife in its direction, knowing it was useless against such a large animal. "Stay back!" I cried.

However, it kept coming toward me. Fear finally got the better of me and I tried to run. However, the moment I did, my injured leg caught on a rock and was yanked forcefully to the side. The wave of pain that washed over me was more intense than anything I'd ever felt. My vision swam as I fell to the ground, the world growing dark around me.

The last thing I saw was a giant white wolf approaching and licking its lips.

I wasn't going to survive the night.

And then it all went dark.