Wolf Country

Chapter 2- Feral

A smelly bandanna is tied over my eyes, dousing me in darkness. Someone ties my hands behind my back and begins roughly pushing me along, causing me to stumble over countless tree roots and branches. My wrists become raw and aching as the old rope tied around them digs into my skin. I hear the first guy and the girl speaking in hushed tones to each other so I strain to hear them, only picking up bits and pieces of what they're saying.

"...gotta hurry," the guy is saying. "The party..."

A party? I wonder to myself, and suddenly I realize the music I heard earlier that's getting louder and louder is the party they're talking about. Who has a party in the woods?

My heartbeat starts to quicken as I wonder what is to become of me once they find out I've been following them. Will they just laugh, write it off as "new-girl behavior"? Or will it be taken as an intrusion on their way of life?

I'm suddenly thrown down onto my knees in front of a large bonfire. It's the exact opposite of the warm, gentle fire my mom starts when we go camping. This fire is a roaring monstrosity, and its blazing heat irritates my skin. It's a reflection of how the people of the party seem to be reacting to me. They jeer and holler at me, and a lot of them are calling me harsh names. Some are poking and prodding me with their fingers; one person kicks me in the stomach, just hard enough for me to groan quietly to myself.

"What's this, Brian?" another voice asks, this one deeper and even more commanding than my captor's voice.

"We found her running around in the woods," the original guy, Brian, says as he rips the bandanna off and unties my hands. Now able to see, I take in my surroundings and notice the party is taking place in a large clearing, with the bonfire in the center. There are at least sixty or so teenagers here, most of them holding red Solo cups in their hands. There's an old 1955 Ford pick-up truck to my left with the windows and doors open, pounding the music. Despite the party being open-air, it feels suffocating and close.

I look up at who Brian spoke to and see a a tall, fair-haired guy wearing a red flannel and jeans. He's very muscular and has furrowed, dark eyebrows. His long eyelashes frame his deep green eyes, which are perfectly set above the smooth planes of his cheeks down to his chiseled jawline. His presence is somehow oddly calming and my heart begins to slow as my fear melts away. Despite his laid-back stance-- hands in his pockets, feet spread apart-- his eyes read calculating, sizing up Brian before looking down at me. I suddenly feel stupid, sprawled clumsily in the dirt and shivering in the cold, so I scramble up to my feet.

"Please let me leave, I won't tell anyone about this place," I say, my voice sounding weak even to me. My breath sends curls of vapor into the night air.

Brian laughs, crossing his arms. "And how do we know that? I've never even seen you before today," he says. "I don't even know your--"

"Scarlett Chapman," I interject, trying not to glance in the other guy's direction. I feel his eyes boring into me, and I silently will him to stop. "Now if someone finds you out, you'll know my name."

"Hmm...I'm not buying that," he answers after a moment, his smile disappearing. "There's only one thing we can do..."

"We're not doing that," the other boy cuts in, squinting his eyes slightly and folding his arms over his chest. "You heard her. You won't say a word, right Scarlett?"

Him saying my name sends shivers down my spine and I muster up a weak nod, turning my gaze to Brian as he lets out an almost feral growl. "Since when do you call the shots around here, Adam?" he says angrily.

Adam retains a cool demeanor and smiles cordially. "Look, I'm not trying to tell you what to do. Just give her a chance; half the people here came across us on accident."