Never Cry Werewolf (17 page)

But I had to hide. The only trees I saw in front of the fence were scrubby. They wouldn’t hide a garden gnome.

“I thought you said there were trees?”

Austin shushed me. “He’s moving faster. I hear him closing in. I have to go.” He peeled back the fence and ducked through.

“Um, um,” I said, glancing around in a bit of a panic. Crap! What was I supposed to do, run? I considered those gnome trees, but they just weren’t gonna cut it.

“You haven’t any time,” Austin said.

“Fine! I’ll hide over there.” There were some thick-trunked trees on the other side of the fence. I’

d take my chances with them, then scurry back over.

Austin helped me through and then rolled the metal back, so it looked like it was all in one piece.

Then he grabbed my hand and pulled me toward the trees. Once we’d picked a huge, leafy alder, Austin pointed back at the trail.

Footsteps clomping like a horse, Charles bounded toward us. “I know you’re out here, lovebirds.”

“What an idjit,” Austin muttered.

“Shh.” I hugged the tree, acutely aware of Austin’s body next to mine, his breath on my cheek.

“Once you go over the fence it’s over, Shelby,” Charles taunted, threading through the bushes.

“Do you want to end up worse than Jillian Montrose?”

Austin’s jaw clenched. He looked ready to pop out and smack Charles.

“Don’t fall for it,” I whispered.

“Or maybe you’re already on the other side of the fence? Have you made a break for it? Well, an attack in the woods would make a great story. If you survive, I could get you the cover of
Celebrities
Exposed
for a tell-all interview.” Charles moved closer to the fence, looking like he was about to peel it back and come through himself, when sounds echoed through the woods—jingling metal and someone plodding through the thick brush.

“Charles! So Cynthia was right!” Mr. Winters’s booming voice called out. “She saw you loitering around the trailhead.”

“Bloody hell,” Austin said under his breath.

“Shh,” I said. I needed Mr. Winters to go away so I could sneak back down the trail.

Austin nodded, pulling me closer to him against the trunk of the tree. I counted to ten while Charles and Mr. Winters argued, holding my breath. The last thing we needed was for them to see us.

“There
is
a break in the fence,” Mr. Winters was saying. “But I don’t see anyone but you,
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Charles. How did you say you happened upon this break in the fence? We’re clearly in an off-limits area.”

“I told you,” cried Charles. “I followed Austin the other night.”

Austin squirmed. I placed a hand on his arm to remind him there was still a chance they might see us.

Mr. Winters went on. “When you were out walking after lights-out? That’s a day of community service—let’s say peeling potatoes for the cook this time?”

“But Austin was—”

“I’d be happy to talk to him later so he can refute your story.”

“But the fence,” Charles said in a defeated tone.

“That’s not a problem,” Mr. Winters replied, followed by a heavy clunking noise. “I came prepared.”

Austin and I traded glances and then slowly peered around our tree trunk. Oh, crap. There was a toolbox on the ground next to Mr. Winters, who was taking out some kind of pliers thing. I watched in horror as he twisted the fence’s metal strands firmly back together.

“No one is escaping out this hole. No one,” Mr. Winters said, grunting with effort, “without wire cutters, that is.”

“You don’t understand,” Charles whined. “It’s probably too late!”

“Sure, son.” Mr. Winters finished the repair and then led away Charles, who was trying to argue his way out of kitchen duty. When they were gone, we ran to the fence.

“Oh, no!” I said, shaking the chain link.

“Don’t panic,” Austin said, checking the strength of the repair.

Meanwhile, I scoped out the top and wondered how cut up my legs might get from the barbed wire. “Maybe I could climb—”

“You can’t do it, Shelby,” Austin said. “The fence is secure. You’re stuffed.”

“If that means I’m screwed, I think you’re right.” I sat down on the ground, putting my head between my knees. “I’m stuck in the woods with a werewolf.”

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D
on’t fret. We’ll get you back through the fence. Somehow.” Austin sat down on the ground next to me and put an arm around my shoulders.

I glanced up at him, startled by his touch. I knew I shouldn’t be afraid of him, but I was. I couldn’t help it now that the circumstances had changed.

He cleared his throat, making me realize I was staring at him. “If we’re going to try something we’

d better hurry,” he said. “I calculated I’d have about forty-five minutes before I was really missed. With you here, too, we’ll have less time.”

“When I don’t show up at arts and crafts, Ariel is going to freak.” I jumped up and shook the fence again. The twisted wires didn’t budge. “Piece-of-crap fence!”

“Right. The fence isn’t going to work, Shelby. It’s two miles to the front gate,” Austin said. “We could try going there.”

Now I really gave him the evil eye. “The front gate? So I can turn myself in? If I do that I’ll really be screwed. The plan was to say good-bye to you, then run back to camp before anyone noticed I was gone. Nothing is working out the way I thought it would.”

Austin stuffed his hands in his jeans pockets. “We can’t stand here talking for much longer. You have to make a decision. What will it be?”

What could I do? If I went back, I’d be in trouble—Winters would call Priscilla and my summer would be over. If I stayed with Austin, though, there was a chance I could hike out before nightfall, get to a phone, and then…nothing. I had nothing. What would I possibly do after that? I’d be a runaway. Not what I wanted to do to get my dad to trust me again.

I sighed. “Let’s try for the main gate. Maybe I can slip back in and pretend to have a concussion from a falling rock or something.”

“Good plan.” He stood there looking at me expectantly.

I poked him in the chest. “Okay, so lead the way. You’ve got a map, right?”

He bit his lip. “Ah, actually, no. Just a rough sketch from the fence to the forest road in my journal.

I returned the original to Charles’s bunk. Casting off suspicion and all that. And on principle, I had to return it.”

I punched Austin in the shoulder.

“Ouch! What the devil was that for?”

“You left the real map
behind?
What kind of escapee are you?”

“I didn’t plan on doubling back to drop you off,” he said, rubbing his shoulder.

“Well, which way do you think the gate is?”

“I suppose that way,” he said, pointing randomly, it seemed to me.

Resisting the urge to panic, I walked with Austin into the trees, keeping the fence in my line of sight. We were kind of walking in a northward direction, based on the sun’s position. But it was only two o’clock, so it wasn’t that easy to tell. By the time sunset came, maybe we’d have a better idea of directions. Oh, wait. Sunset? I so hoped we found the front gate before then.

“Um, what time does the moon come out?” I asked casually.

Austin made a growling sound, probably thinking he was being funny. “You don’t look remotely appetizing.”

“Just watch yourself,” I said in what I hoped was a confident tone. And I walked on, keeping one eye on the distant fence and one on Austin, which was really hard to do without tripping.

“This is not good,” I said, as if that would somehow help. Below us, in a deep ravine, bushes, ferns, and a collection of fallen trees and sharp-looking sticks masked a small creek. There didn’t seem to be any way around, and I was so not balancing on some half-rotten log to cross it.

“Not to worry,” Austin said. We’d been walking for about three hours, according to his watch.

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The road and gate hadn’t materialized, but Austin was still acting like he knew the way. It was getting old.

“Hmm…This wasn’t on the map,” Austin said, scratching at his long bangs. “We must have taken a wrong turn somewhere.”

“A wrong turn?” I leaned a hand against the nearest tree. “Dude. I have to get to the gate! No one is ever going to believe the whole concussion story if I don’t do it now! I mean, soon they’ll probably be out here with, like, hounds or something to chase us down. I’m
so
going to Red Canyon.”

“Red Canyon?”

“The hell of brat camps, Austin! My witch of a stepmother is going to send me there the minute she gets wind of this.”

“You were merely trying to help me,” Austin said. “You weren’t trying to run away. Surely she’d

—”

“No. She won’t be reasonable. The woman doesn’t have a shred of reason in her stupid skinny body.”

“I was going to say, surely she’d listen to your side of it,” Austin said, frowning at me. “Mind you,
I’m
not the adversary here.”

I stood there fuming. “She won’t listen to me. No one ever does.”

Austin’s expression softened. He slung his backpack off his shoulder and sat down on the nearest stump. “I’m sorry I got you into this.”

I plunked down next to him. “You didn’t force me through the fence, Austin. It was totally my stupid idea.”

“Well, if I hadn’t been—”

“It’s my own fault,” I said. I closed my eyes and rested, trying to forget that I had no clue what we

’d do next. After a while, though, the bubbling sound of a nearby creek made me thirsty. “Can I have some water?”

“Sure.” Austin reached into his bag and groaned. “The water bottle, Shelby. You didn’t cap it after your last drink.”

“I did,” I said.

“Apparently not well enough.” He pulled the bottle out and held it up for me to see the drips running down its sides.

“Oh, great,” I said. “I doubt you thought to bring a portable water filter. We’ll die of thirst out here.”

“Wait. That’s only the beginning.” Austin set the bottle on the ground and pulled his journal from his bag. Black drops dripped from it onto the dirt.

“No-oo!” I cried. “Haven’t you ever heard of waterproof ink?”

Austin’s eyes narrowed. “I hardly expected anyone to put an open bottle of water into my pack.”

My face got hot. “It wasn’t open. I mean, I thought I closed the bottle,” I explained.

“I’d say it was halfway closed.” He laid the book reverently down on some ferns and opened the pages.

The water damage was pretty severe. Page after soggy page ran with ink from beautiful drawings of birds. The most beautiful smeary bird pictures I’d ever seen.

“Austin, those are amazing.”

He shrugged but also looked pleased at the same time. “Even with medication, most nights before a full moon I can’t sleep. I draw by candlelight to pass the time. Luckily, Sven didn’t find the candles and extra matches hidden in my shoes.”

“Oh, crap.” I pointed down at the journal. “The map?”

Sighing, Austin flipped toward a page in the back of the book. Water had only slightly smeared the hand-drawn map. Of course, it was toward the slightly smeared part that we’d been heading.

“Well, there’s no ravine,” I said. “Even with the smudges, I can see that.”

“Yes. I’d say we’re lost,” Austin said.

“Can’t you, like, use your wolfy senses? You know, to smell the way to camp or civilization?”

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“My senses help, but they don’t work that way. If I’m tracking someone, I search out their scent, but I need a reference scent, a starting point. Trying to remember a scent isn’t as effective.”

“And you’ve never smelled the town where we’re going,” I said. “So you can’t sniff that out.”

“Where
we’re
going? You’re going with me?” Austin said, his voice a little concerned.

“Duh! If I can’t find camp, then I have to go on toward the town.”

He let out a big sigh. “That presents a whole new problem, doesn’t it?”

“What? I’ve come all this way with you, and you don’t want me to go to town with you?”

Austin brushed a piece of bark from the knee of his jeans. “It’s not that.”

“Then what?” I said, getting madder by the second.

“It’s only that—”

“Holy crap! You’re worried that you’ll go wolfy and attack me.”

“No.” Austin let out a long, deep sigh. “Actually, I’m more worried about frightening you than anything else.” He opened his mouth and pointed to his teeth. His canines seemed whiter and larger.

I gaped at him, not knowing what to say.

He closed his mouth, looking embarrassed. “It’s a precursor to the natural lunar change for some of us. The rest of the transformation happens rapidly.”

“I won’t freak out,” I said, hoping I sounded reassuring.

“You don’t know that,” Austin said.

“And, hey, at least we’re not back at camp burning those stupid raffia birds with Dr. Wanda.”

He managed a weak smile. “You’re not coming with me, Shelby.”

“Look,” I said, “we’ll find a naughty woodchuck who really deserves a horrible death. You’ll get a snack, and everything’ll be golden.” I tried to laugh, but it came out all hysterical-sounding. It felt lame to be making jokes.

And Austin’s dead-serious expression made me realize that looking on the bright side wasn’t going to save me if I came face-to-face with a hungry wolf.

Hours later, the oranges and reds of the sunset cast a glow on the trees and rocks around us. It was beautiful except for the pale moon rising like a bluish white ghost at the other side of the horizon.

We’d been hiking in what seemed to me a random direction, and my patience was almost totally gone. I was tired, hungry, and worried. For about the millionth time, we paused so Austin could squint down at the smeared map.