Hitchhikers (Wolf Point #1)

-60-

I explain to Zeke about werewolves, what little I know. I try to talk him through the change

(try to get him back to human)

and I transform several times to give him the image he can use to visualize the process for himself. Nothing works.

"Kayla didn't tell me people can become werewolves by being bitten. I guess it's different than if you're born a werewolf."

Zeke, who at this point is beyond frustrated, punches his hand through the wall. "Why, why, why?" he howls.

"I don't know, but look, everything will be okay. We can find Kayla, and she can help us."

"Nothing's okay!" Another hole in the wall. "Why did you have to come here? Why did you have to ruin everything?"

There's no answer for that. I hang my head. Stare at the destruction around me. All my fault. Yes. All mine. I brought this mess here.

"I'm sorry," I say hoarsely.

Easy to slip down into that black hole of everything's my fault, I'm a monster, everyone I know dies. Much harder to swallow and continue. "We need to go. Pack some clothes and food, let the animals go. We need to leave before night falls."

"Go? Go where?" Zeke demands.

"Just get ready."

I trudge out to the barn and open the stalls. The animals cower inside – they can smell what I am. I leave the barn doors open. Eventually they will look for food. Better they be attacked by some wild animal than starve to death in their stalls.

Using one of Mr. Whittemore's rucksacks, I fill it with bread, cheese, and salted meat. Get dressed and wait for Zeke, who has shut himself in his room. He is crying in there.

I knock. "Zeke, let's go."

"I can't go out there like this," he sobs. "I look like a monster."

"Come on, we'll figure something out."

I find him a big red checkered hunting cap with ear flaps, some mittens, and a big scarf that I arrange to cover the wolfish half of his face.

"We'll be fine as long as we don't get too close to people," I tell him. It's not quite a lie.

Zeke leads us to the roads. It's about three miles of dirt road before we hit pavement, another three before we see any kind of sign.

"Cottonwood Lake," I read. "Where's that?"

Zeke shrugs.

"I mean, like, what state are we in?"

He stares at me before answering. "Nebraska."

Still in Nebraska. Shit.

"What's the closest town?"

"We usually go down to Hyannis. It's not real big, though."

"And the nearest highway?"

"We're on it, Route 61."

Scanning the empty road, I feel my heart sink. We won't get a ride on this road. We should've taken Mr. Whittemore's truck, if only I knew how to drive it.

"Route 2 runs through Hyannis. It don't look much different than this one, but lots more people drive on it."

"How far to Hyannis, then?"

Zeke burrows his nose into his scarf. "About thirty miles."

* * *

The walking sucks, with the snow drifts piled up on the side of the highway and the frost heaves and pot holes that make even the road treacherous for walking.