1-Lena

Lena is Cousin, an intermediary between the worlds of animals and humans. She has laid low in foster care and then on her own in the Smokies since her family was abducted by forces unknown.

Synopsis: The Cousins are intermediaries between the natural world and the human one. Lena is a Cousin to the black wolves, an extinct variety of Florida red wolf. After her family was abducted from the nature reserve St. Vincent's island when she was a child, she lived in Florida foster care until she aged out of the system. Alienated from both humans and her own kind, Lena traveled north to Appalachia, where she's been eeking out a quiet living in the wild. After a bad injury, Lena is forced to seek help in a city with a pack of Cousins like herself. When the organization that kidnapped her family all those years ago are tipped off to her location, they're all thrust into danger.

1-Lena

The sun was starting to set by the time I got to town, and my arm was starting to hurt like a b***h.

I leaned against the sticky wall of an alley between a corner CVS and a flower shop.  Even the sweet stench of the bouquets next door couldn’t drown out the smell of downtown Park City.  Every city was the same: the smell of gasoline pooled on the asphalt, the punch of food and garbage juice rotting in dumpsters.  I knew I wouldn’t get the smell out of my hair for days. The sooner I could get back into the open air, the better.

The gash was worse than it had seemed at first.  That whole day had been a mess of poor decisions.  First I’d taken down a sick doe, who hadn’t been as sick as she’d seemed.  I was still nursing a pretty badly bruised rib from my last big kill, more than two weeks ago, when I’d slaughtered an old moose. When I’d thought it dead and was crouching over to give my thanks, his last kick had clouted me with enough force to shatter bone.  Since then, I’d only managed to forage berries and rodents.  I was weak when it came time to take the doe, and half-crazy with hunger.  Then when I’d heard the mountain cat approaching, I’d been hard pressed to part with any of my hard-won prize.  That is to say, the wolf had been hard pressed.  The weaker I was, the harder it was to stay in control.  And then, after climbing for my life into a tree, I’d lost at least half of the doe to the cat. Only then did I notice the blood pumping out of a scratch on my arm, right down the inner forearm from elbow to wrist.

After I’d eaten my fill and the gash was still bleeding, I decided to try to get to town for help. I did most of my own sutures: living on the move in Appalachia, without a pack, there were certain things you just learned to do yourself.  But this wasn’t your usual climbing scrape, and I wasn’t about to risk my life on some prideful misgivings.  Any town might do in a pinch, but I’d heard Park City was home to a pack of my own kind.  I’d never been through, but I sometimes crossed paths with other nomads, other Cousins like me.  Even so spread out and sparse like we were here in the Appalachians, our network never failed.  That’s how we maintained all these years. Our population was so meager these days that we weren’t even competing over territory.

Caution turned out to be the right approach: it was evening of the same day before I reached county limits, and things had taken a turn for the worst.

Overlooking the town was a neat little cabin with a working water pump and an empty gravel driveway.  Wild bergamot and lobelia bloomed lavender in patches through the yard’s mat of pine needles.  A clothesline hung between the side of the cabin and the shed, swinging with bed sheets and little kids’ overalls.  I borrowed some clean clothes from the line, a yellow sort of tank top and jeans, to help me blend in.  My other clothes, blood-soaked and filthy, I stowed in my backpack.  On a whim, I peeked at my reflection in one of the grimy shed windows.  It had been months since I’d seen my own face, in a hotel mirror by the eastern Tennessee border.  I’d crashed there with a boy I’d met outside a honky tonk bar one cold February night.  The winter hadn’t been so bad then. I hadn’t starved. But the past summer had been hot and dry; it was harder to find water, and a lot of the bigger game died out.  That’s probably why the cat had been so ready to fight for the doe.  He was as hungry as I was.

I was actually surprised by my reflection. The girl in the window didn’t look like anyone I knew. She had the same clear light eyes and brown skin and thick black hair, but the eyes seemed dull and her hair was snarled and coarse. Her lips were puffy and cracked.  She barely looked human. People in a cushy town like Park City would notice her. But I didn’t have any choice. As much as it made my skin crawl to think of being stared at by all those people, I needed help.

Yet now that I’d found my way into the thick of it, things were starting to look bleak.  People had begun to stare as soon as I got downtown, even though I’d tried to clean up a little bit.  I’d even hidden my arm pretty good, wrapped it up tight in a ripped pillowcase.  I’d been estranged from civilization for a few months now, living alone in the mountains, sometimes not seeing a person for weeks on end.  I’d splashed around under the water pump back at the cabin, but dirt was caked pretty deep under my nails and on my neck. And even though I’d cleaned and bandaged the gash as well as I could, it still bled off and on, not to mention it hurt like hell. By the time I ducked into the alley to escape curious looks, my head was beginning to swim. Blood was beginning to trickle out the side of the bandages and drip through my fingers.  What if the pack in town was out on a hunt, and wouldn’t be back for days? It was so stupid to fight that pather.  No one’s that stupid.

Without any clear ideas about what I was going to do, I started out of alley.  I barely got two steps before my knees buckled and my vision went spotty.

It’s funny what you think about at a desperate time like that. I remembered being seven years old, snuggled close to my sister in her bed.  My cousins were snoring softly, all lumped in small cots crammed in the small bedroom.  My sister’s breathing was deep and even, her chest warm against my back.  I remembered hearing the cicadas roar outside the cracked window and the warm everglade night creeping in.

When I came to, I was looking into the eyes of my savior. I lurched up.

“Lie the f**k down,” the girl snapped.

The wolf inside snarled at lying under a stranger, belly-up no less, but I obeyed. My head was spinning like crazy, and I felt like throwing up.

The girl smiled at me. “What’s that from, a mountain lion? Crazy m**********r.”

“We call them panthers where I’m from,” I mumbled.

I looked down. The girl, close to my age and lanky, was crouched down by my side. She’d untied the pillowcase to examine the wound. My stomach lurched seeing the soggy flesh exposed.

The girl said something.

“What?”

“I said what family are you from? We haven’t had any nomads pass through Park City in a few years now.”

“Unclaimed.  Been on my own a while.”

She narrowed her eyes at me.  My sister used to look at me that same way, when she thought I was lying.  “Well, if you want I can take you back to our den, patch you up. Kind of looks like you don’t have much choice though, seeing as you’re passed out bloody in a back alley.”

I nodded. What choice did I have? If she’d wanted to work me over, I was vulnerable no matter where I was. And I still needed help.

“All right. Ready? Here we go.”

The girl lifted my good arm over her shoulders and hoisted me up. My stomach turned and I dry-heaved a little, but she was unrelenting. She guided me around the back of the flower shop, away from its cloud of perfumed petals and mildewing stems, and onto a quieter street. She said she found me from the smell.

“We live close by. Reed swore it was nothing, maybe the wind blowing by the butcher shop. But I know one of us when I smell it. I’m Fern, by the way.”

I looked at her out of the corner of my eye. “I’m Lena.”

“We’re from the Krause family here.  The grey wolves. I’m sure you know.”

I did.  Krause was the biggest family, the main house, pure grey wolf down the line. They kept track of most of the other families, where packs set up, what areas needed help, who was dying out and who was thriving.  They kept tabs on the old matriarchs and patriarchs growing old in the wild as well as the young packs striking out into cities.  They even kept in touch with the cousins of other species.  They upheld the network. 

This was as far southeast as I’d heard of a Krause; this had been timber wolf territory a hundred years ago, when timber wolves still had a fighting chance.  Fern definitely had the family look: light skin, cinnamon hair, blue eyes.  Even half carrying me, her feet barely touched the ground. She moved lightly, like a dancer crossing the stage.

I’d never known a Krause closely, although I’d run into them in the past.  They would help their kind out of a sense of duty, but subspecies never mingled too closely.  We’re territorial.  Only so many families can cohabitate before things start to get tense, because of the power struggles.  I’d never sought them out either.  I was on my own mission, and I didn’t need a lot of questions coming down through the grapevine.

Fern set me down on a bench in the shade.  My head spun until I made myself lie down.  I watched her pick a cheap flip phone from her back pocket and speed dial.

 “Hey, it’s Fern.  Yeah, she’s here just like I said.  Get your asses down here, we need to get her up to the house. Bring the car.”

Reviews

[Annthrax]

Let me just say, that opening line was killer. Immediately I was like, alright boys and girls, let's see what this is all about. Really great! Totally grabbed my attention, I got a little lost in the middle but I think that's just the layout of the website. Also, I really love Fern already :) All right, I'm moving on to chapter 2!

[A. Amos]

The first line was amazing and extremely well written, further I was lost and my suggestion would be create a synopsis before first chapter. You did had introduce the plot in two lines, which is not doing justice with interesting story line.

[Duaa]

Wow... Such an interesting story!! I lovedd the first chapter and really excited for more.. Keep it up!! I learned ALOTT from your style of writing so should thankyou.. Your description is great wish I'd be this good someday.. Do read my story and tell me what u think about it please I'd like to know how u liked it or not.. And again..it was pleasure reading :)

[Brianna Wagner]

thanks for reading! i'll definitely give your work a look :)