One with the Pack

Chapter 1

A never ending row of pine trees fly pass my view as my head rests up against the cold window of my father's truck. It's an aged worn truck with a soft hum to its motor. Vibrant red paint is now a faint blush with a few dents and scars towards the back. Mainly because of me learning how to drive a few months ago. Like the time I was learning how to parallel park and hit the only pole in the empty parking lot. My dad still teases me about that day explaining how it's another example of my clumsiness.

Country music plays from the radio at a low volume as I requested due to my dislike of the genre. It doesn't change the silence between me and the older man in the driver's seat. We've been driving for a solid six hours with occasional breaks for food and other needs along the way. Bags are clearly visible under his eyes with a bored expression on his slightly wrinkled face.

My dad got laid off as a police officer back in Maine, he took the closest police officer job available which was in a small town in Oregon named Graymond. It was hard to accept the move knowing I would have to leave my small pool of friends and my mother's grave. Ten years ago she passed away and everyday I look at her picture in my locket to keep my memory of her face alive.

My fingers play with the locket around my neck, the silver cold at the touch. My hand moves to my phone to check the time, '4:28'. My eyes shift towards the window again, greeted again by the sea of pine trees. A worn green sign comes to view saying 'Graymond 1.5 miles'. My lips curl into a grin as I turn to my dad. "Almost there, I wonder where Isaac is at"

Isaac is my older brother by a year, but several years younger than me in mental age. He took the other vehicle for the move and had a breakdown back in Ohio leaving us a day ahead of him. He tends to be a fast driver so he may be closer than I think.

"He'll probably arrive tomorrow night, afternoon the earliest." My dad replies with a tired tone. Yawning, he cracks the window a little to breathe in fresh air. He releases a long sigh and smiles, "I love the mountain air, always fresh and cool".

He rolls the window back up and places his hand back on the wheel to switch lanes to get off at the next exit. The truck tilts at the turn of the exit ramp and stops at a red light at the end.

"I can't wait to be able to run in the woods" I say with excitement looking around at the scenery. All thick green forests and empty long paved roads roads.

"Hold on there sport, we still need to check to see if there's a pack there already. Up in these mountains far away from big cities and towns there's going to be a boat load of werewolves."

"Look around us, there's literally nobody on the roads except wildlife relaxing on the road because there is no cars."

Sighing he takes a turn right when the light turns green. "I just want to be sure, customs here in the west are different from the east, packs are much more...violent you can say" Nodding my head in understanding, I look ahead at the incoming view of Graymond, Oregon.

As we drive down the roads of the town, people turn to look at the truck as we pass. "guess they don't get too many visitors" I say, looking back at the people we pass.

The center of town was mostly made up of trees, trees, more trees, and old brick buildings. Further out, almost entire miles separate homes and businesses. The paved road soon turns to gravel the closer we got to the house. Five miles from the last house I saw, our house stood proudly in the middle of a clearing of trees and bushes.

Painted in a pale blue with white accents, it stands out amongst the shades of green surrounding it. The inside was floored with hard wood, walls noticeably newly painted by the scent lingering in the air. Kitchen was too big for my taste but perfect for my dad judging by the glint in his eyes. Living room had an old fireplace with a TV mount on the top. A bathroom and dinning room fill out the rest of the first floor leaving three bedrooms upstairs along with another bathroom.

My dad had the heavy stuff like couches and beds delivered earlier this week to make the move easier. All that was left was the endless boxes of small stuff in the trunk. One by one I carried my boxes upstairs. Taking a few boxes to Isaac's room before beginning to put my stuff away in drawers and in the closet.

It took a few hours to fully put stuff away, dad and I both exhausted and practically passed out on the couch in the living room. "TV and WiFi aren't going to be connected until tomorrow, so those two are out of the question for entertainment."

Groaning in response, I burry my face in a blue patterned pillow. "It's already nine thirty, and you start your first day at school tomorrow."

I groan even louder earning a tired chuckle and pat on the head. "At least you won't get that much homework since it's your first day"

~~~

The moonlight illuminates my room through the window next to my bed. Just enough light to make out the spinning ceiling fan. The quiet noise of moving air that I've been falling asleep to for years, comes to my ears for the first time in a while. But tonight is another night of no sleep since the move.

I want to go home. But this my home now, and will be until I graduate high school and possibly college. The realization brings tears streaming down my cheeks. And for the millionth time after leaving the far away state of Maine. I cried myself to sleep.