Terra Incognita

Chapter One

            As with most of life’s extraordinary problems, I felt ill equipped to handle the beast hurtling toward me. The monster’s yellow eyes focused upon me. Its tongue, dripping saliva, lolled from its mouth.

I flicked my eyes left and right, looking for cover – a door to slip through, anything – but could find no escape.

In a matter of seconds, it lunged for me.

I hit the ground, the air forced from my lungs. And, before I could take a breath, my face was plastered with the dog’s kisses. Laughter bubbled up in my throat despite my pounding heart, and I tried to shove the more than one hundred pound wolf-hybrid away to no avail. Finally, I managed to roll him to the side.

Standing, I brushed strands of dark blonde hair from my mouth. My dog remained with his tummy in the air, smiling at me, as I adjusted my ponytail.

I reached down to rub his belly and tried to sound scolding. “You’re really too big to be doing that.” However, my laugh gave away my affection.

Properly mollified, he trailed after me on my trek to the farmhouse across the lawn. As I reached the back door, I pivoted on my feet, took in my rural surroundings, and was overwhelmed by the thought it would all by mine in a few weeks. The house stood in a large clearing surrounded by forest. A gravel driveway vanished through the trees around front. At the far end of the clearing an unused barn leaned heavily to one side. Between that and the house, acres of tall grass waved in the breeze, at times almost seeming to bow to me.

I gave a short laugh. Yeah, right.

A creaking gate drew my attention to the small fenced-in area thirty feet behind the house. All at once, I felt cold despite the warm spring air and crossed my arms over my chest, any hint of a smile erased. Each time the gate blew open, I caught a glimpse of the garden behind it. Nature had wiped away any evidence of the events that had occurred there over two weeks ago. The grass appeared untouched, but the image of violence was still fresh in my mind.

My mother’s voice rang through my head. I’m just glad you weren’t home…

Tears prickled at my eyes. Before they could fall, I squared my shoulders, walked to the gate, and latched it.

Turning, I nearly stumbled over my dog, who had settled silently behind me. “Sheesh, Lobo.” I started to pat his head, when he tipped it to the side, one ear perked up, and looked toward the trees. Scratching him behind his ear, I took a deep breath and cast a glance toward the soon-to-be flourishing garden, before going inside.

I hesitated as I stepped over the threshold. It’s much too pretty to stay indoors.

It took me a few minutes to dig out my old sneakers and a pair of worn gloves. As I headed back out to the garden, I hummed a little tune to which I had forgotten the words and, preoccupied with remembering it, walked through the gate. When I realized the gate was open, I stopped reminiscing and rolled my eyes.

Oh, come on. Cheap piece of… I stooped to examine the latch but could find nothing wrong with it. I frowned. Huh. Tossing my gloves and trowel down, I pulled the gate closed and jiggled it. Nothing. I barely got it to rattle, let alone unfasten. It must not have closed all the way. With my hand still on the white picket, I glanced around for Lobo and caught sight of him at the edge of the yard.

He paced, sniffing at the ground. When he paused and gave a whine, I called for him. He scurried to me without his earlier excitement and sat by the gate.

I moved to his side. “What is it, boy? Huh?” Glancing at the trees, I crouched down and rubbed him behind the ears.

He whimpered and lowered his head to his paws. At a loss, I stood and frowned toward the forest, before forcing myself to shake off my misgivings and confront the garden.