Wolves among men Read online

  Wolves among Men

  By: Penelope Sweet

  Copyright 2014 by Penelope Sweet

  Smashwords Edition

  For Carter John Michael Sebastian Sims

  The little boy who cried wolf

  “Light thinks it travels faster than anything but it is wrong.

  No matter how fast light travels, it finds the darkness has always got there first and is waiting for it.”

  Terry Pratchett

  Chapter One

  California has always been my home. It’s where I grew up and where I thought I would live out the rest of my days. Home is the one place in the world you always think of as safe despite the crime rate but I know different now and I will do anything I can to protect the last shred of family that’s left. At times, I love her more than myself and I can’t take the thought of never seeing her smiling face again but no one ever said that doing the right thing was easy.

  My truck groaned loudly as I flew down the highway. My thoughts are never ending and threaten to throw me into madness if I didn’t do something, anything to quell the guilt of abandonment that hovered around me and made it hard to breathe.

  I turned up the radio to drown it all out as I pushed my old Dodge just as fast as she would go.

  “Just a little longer,” I whispered as I reached forward and patted the dashboard. “And we can both rest.”

  She served me well, my old truck but it was no mystery from looking at her and hearing the groan in her voice that she was ready to retire. I just hoped that she was well enough to get me where I needed to go.

  But not tonight, I thought as I saw the turnoff. A few miles down, I found an old motel waiting to greet me. It was rundown and uninviting but now wasn’t the time to be picky.

  Pulling into the gravel parking lot, I shut the old girl down. Without the rumble of her antique engine, the night was quiet, eerie and a little bit dangerous. Closing my eyes for a moment, I took in the silence and the smell of the night air as intoxicating as it was and had always been.

  A few minutes passed and the need for sleep washed over me, making it almost impossible for me to open my eyes willingly. I shook myself awake, grabbed my bag from the passenger seat and made my way up the drive to what I was hoping wasn’t the Bates motel.

  Now I’m not a big fan of landscaping, too unnatural if you ask me but even in the dark, I could tell that this place was sorely in need of some. Between the patches of yellow dead grass and the cracked and mismatched stones posing as a walkway, there was little to salvage the look of the desolate and unwelcoming building before me.

  From the outside, I could see the pale pink curtains that dangled lifelessly behind the panes of glass that lined the motel’s sickly green walls. Stopping for a second, I wondered if anyone ever thought this looked good or if a bet was lost years ago. The thought escaped me as I pulled open the door and the overwhelming scent of mothballs and floor cleaner brought me back to a painful reality. For a moment, I considered the possibility of sleeping in my truck rather than having to endure the violent assault on my senses but somehow I managed to find the strength to shrug it off and step inside.

  As the door closed loudly behind me with a bells soft jingle, I took a look around the room and sighed. Just my luck, there was no one to be seen.

  The hum of static on the TV behind me was all I could hear as I poked my head around the back of a beaten up desk. No one. I rang the bell as loud as I could. Once ....Twice ...”Hello?” I called. No answer.

  A few moments passed while I did everything I could to suppress the urge to toss the T.V through the large window to the side of me, it was amazing how quickly the dull distant hum of nothing could get on your nerves. As I looked up from my scattered thoughts, I found myself suddenly face to face with a man I assumed to be the owner.

  He was a small man with a menacing yet friendly look about him. It was almost unnerving the mix of the two and it took me a moment to compose myself. Thankfully, he spoke first, “Can I help you?” with a voice so raspy that it barely suited him at all.

  “Hello.” I held my hand out with a smile. “My name is Ethan. I don’t mean to bother you so late but your sign said vacancy.” I threw in another smile for good measure as he took my hand and shook it limply.

  “No bother, son. So you looking to stay the night or a few days?” he asked as he walked behind the desk slowly and pulled a key off of the empty rack behind him. He placed it on the counter and gave me another quick glance.

  “Oh no.” I smiled as I adjusted my back pack and stepped up to the counter. “Just the night.”

  “It seems that is all we get these days.” He chuckled as he reached down and pulled out a thick, leather bound book. He flipped through it for a second, sending the smell of dust and antiquity at me before turning it around to face me and handing me a small chewed up pen.

  “Sign here,” he pointed to the last of the small boxes on the page. There were so many names and so many dates that in a place like this I was sure at least half of them were fake. I chuckled to myself as I scanned the creativity of the various guests. John Smith was a fan of this place that’s for sure. I shook myself out of my daze and finished signing my name.

  Ethan Harlow

  Just as I finished, the old man took the book from me and replaced it with a small key attached to a leather chain, on it was the number 2.

  “I don’t have many rooms here, but you’re in luck-” He moved around the counter to face me. “we got just one left tonight.” He chuckled as he patted my shoulder. I stepped aside and followed a few steps behind the old man as he led me back outside, toward the long sickly green building I had already stopped to admire. The rush of cars from the nearby highway caught my attention as he stopped in front of my door and shoved the key into the lock.

  “Okay, you’re all set, son.” He smiled as he turned toward me and motioned toward the door. “If you need anything, feel free to give me a holler.”

  “Sure, thanks.” I smiled sincerely and waved in thanks as he turned on his heels and made his way back to the office. I glanced back as he cleared his throat and disappeared into the front door, leaving me alone under the bug infested light. Chuckling to myself, I took another quick look around before I slid inside and closed the door behind me.

  As soon as the room was flooded with light, I found myself fighting the urge to simply live in darkness until it was time to leave. The room was beyond salvageable in its appearance. The same pink curtains hung next to the stained and dirty purple walls and a sickly yellow carpet stopped at my feet. I didn’t even want to begin to wonder what was going through the mind of whoever decorated this monstrosity, it was beyond fixable.

  Shuddering as I took another step inside, I threw my bag on a small round table that sat under the window next to me. Running my fingers through my hair, I smirked and shook my head as I made my way toward the tiny bathroom and reached inside to flip on the light.

  Taking a long look in the mirror through tired eyes, I saw my hair was messy naturally and it was noticeably longer than it was yesterday. “It’s growing too fast,” I grumbled as I ran my fingers through it, trying the best I could to tame the light brown mess of bed head that dangled over my eyes.

  Running my hand down the side of my face, I noticed I needed to shave but for now it would have to do. As I looked closely at the man in the mirror, I was reminded of the kids that roamed the halls of my old college campus. Too lazy to brush their hair or even shave on a regular basis, donned in nothing more than a black T shirt and too-big jeans in the place of any kind of style, I could have easily passed for a kid fresh out of his parents’ house and more than relishing in the freedom of nightly parties and morning hangovers.

  A slight chuckl
e escaped me as I splashed some water on my face and dried off quickly. I had no desire to fix the situation tonight and even if I had, the warm and inviting bed that beckoned me from across the room had other plans in mind.

  As I lay there waiting for sleep to take its hold on me, I couldn’t help but wonder what she was doing right now. Was she worried? Was she scared? Would she come looking for me? I didn’t have time to finish my thoughts before my eyes became heavy and the dark grip of sleep washed over me.

  But as luck would have it, it wasn’t long before the phone started ringing.

  Walking over to the table, I ruffled around until I found it. The thought had crossed my mind to let it ring but I decided I better answer. They would just call back anyhow and I’d never get any sleep. I turned it over and checked the number and my hands immediately went cold.

  “No, no, no.” I grumbled. “I told her not to call me.”

  Cordillia had always been overly dramatic. The scene she made when I told her I was leaving proved that more than ever. The tears came first and then the screaming. It took everything I had to calm her down and even then it still took damn near an hour. I had to lie to her, I had no choice but she wasn’t a fool and it didn’t take long for her to see right through it.

  I told her I was sick of California. I told her I needed a change. The truth was I didn’t know where I was going and I didn’t know what I was looking for, I just hoped that I could get far enough away to keep her safe.

  Clearing my thoughts, I lifted the phone to my ear slowly. I didn’t even have a chance to speak before her sweet voice came pouring out, “YOU ASSHOLE!” it was nice to hear she had some emotion in her this time.

  “Yes, Cordillia?” I waited for a reply. The phone was silent as I heard her trying to control her breathing.

  “You meant it, really you weren’t kidding about the whole leaving thing?” I paused for a moment and swallowed the pain that grew in my stomach. I really hurt her, I never wanted to but I did.

  “I’m sorry, I had to. I don’t know how else to explain.” Nothing, this was not good. The only time Cordillia ever became quiet was when her gears were turning and that usually meant a fight.

  “I know you may think I’m a kid who just can’t possibly get it, but I want to Ethan, please. We’re family. We can work through whatever it is that’s making you run away like a self-centered jackass,” her voice was angry and edged, not that I blamed her. But I couldn’t think of anything to say. Nothing could make this better and no explanation could make the situation any less insane.

  “I don’t want to lose you. I just want to know what the hell is so dammed important that you would just-” She paused, “run away.” I sighed heavily and rubbed my eyes.

  “Cordillia, this has nothing to do with how I see you.” I tried. My voice cracked as I spoke. I tried so damn hard to make this feel right but she wouldn’t let me, couldn’t let me be at peace with what I’d done.

  “I’m not running away from you, you’re the only family I have. You know I wouldn’t do that. You know if I could,” I paused as the thought crossed my mind. Maybe if I told her the truth it would be easier, she would write me off as crazy and just go on with her life. I shook it off, No. I couldn’t do that to her, what if she believed me, what if it ruined everything for her or worse. What if she wanted to--? I couldn’t bring myself to finish the thought.

  “What do you mean if you could?” she mocked. “You’ve never kept a secret from me before. You know you can trust me, what’s so God dammed-” she began to scream into the phone.

  “ALRIGHT!” I roared, hoping I didn’t wake anyone up in this shit-hole motel. “Alright,” I repeated a bit calmer this time.

  “You ready to treat me like a sister and not some stranger you can just walk away from?” there was a bit of sarcasm in her voice this time. I smirked.

  “You do realize that it’s midnight, right?”

  “Actually it’s more like one in the morning.” I paused as her words sunk in. What the hell was she doing up so late, she had a job in the morning and bills to pay. I stopped my train of thought there. It was easy to leave but suddenly harder to stop being a brother.

  “I can’t explain over the phone.” I sighed. I couldn’t believe I was doing this. I hardly believed what was going on myself and now I had to drag the only family I had left into this mess. But she was right. She deserved at least an explanation. Worst case scenario, she would think I was insane and let me go on my way but anything was better than leaving her like this. “If I tell you how to get here, will you come?” I asked.

  “Of course,” she replied with an edge to her voice. I prayed I was doing the right thing.

  “I-five out of Redding. Head north. There is a small truck stop about sixty miles up, pass it. You’ll see a turnoff not far north from there. Take it, you’ll find a small hotel that looks like a death trap. I’m in room two. I’ll wait for you,” I finished with a cringe. What was I going to say to her? How could I explain something utterly unexplainable? At least I had time to gather my thoughts between now and then.

  “Room two,” she whispered over the soft scribble of pen on paper. “I’ll pack some things and be on my way. You better not be dicking me around, Ethan, I want to know the truth.” The phone cut out and the pain in my stomach grew worse. This was a bad idea, I knew that. But what else could I do? I had to tell her something. I couldn’t just let her think I was running away from her.

  Pulling back the purple floral drapes and staring out into the empty parking lot, I considered my options. I really only had two choices. Tell her the truth and risk being labeled as insane or run. Juggling between two equally bad ideas, I let my arm fall and ran my fingers through my hair with a groan. At least I had a little time to figure it out before I was confronted with reality.

  Chapter Two

  Patience was never my strong point and now more than ever that fault was shining brightly. I paced the room for what seemed like an eternity but when I checked the clock only ten minutes had passed. The clock stared back at me as I ran through a myriad of ways to pass the time, each one as unappealing as the idea before it and eventually I gave up and made my way into the bathroom and flipped on the light. It almost blinded me and it took a few moments for the sting to pass that’s when I realized the rest of the hotel room had been dark this whole time.

  When my eyes had finally adjusted, I walked over to the mirror and quickly pulled my shirt over my head, tossing it onto the bathroom counter and turning to take a look at my reflection. It had been a while since I had really looked at the man in the mirror and since the attack a few months ago, I had changed. Not in a bad way but I wasn’t Ethan as I knew him anymore.

  All my life, I had always been a little on the scrawny side and that’s why it surprised me when I noticed a faint but sure line of muscle appearing out of nowhere. I was shocked even now that the faint tone had turned into a well-defined body and I had done nothing to provoke it. My eyes seemed to glow even under the florescent light that hummed above me and as I leaned forward to take a better look, I noticed something staring back at me. I heard once that the eyes are the window to the soul and while I still saw myself in them and staring back at me from the mirrors dirty reflection that wasn’t the only thing that took up residence behind them. Something older, something darker, something inherently not me lived there now and no amount of wishing could change that.

  Squeezing my eyes shut, I shook my head before turning to start the water for my shower and when I turned back something else in the mirror had caught my eye. I reached up and ran my fingers over the thick, white jagged scar that stood out against the tan skin of my right shoulder. I hadn’t given it much thought since the attack and as my fingers slowly passed over the patch of cold, raised skin, I wondered just how long it would be before I could look at it without cringing.

  I smiled slightly as the shape and size of it began to remind me just a little of the old monster movies Cordillia and I would watch l
ate at night when things become scarier than they really are. It spanned my shoulder, making it seem as though my arm was stitched on and if you were the right kind of person with the right kind of imagination it wouldn’t be unusual to think that maybe there was a mad scientist’s hand involved in the procedure.