No Matter What You Do, Stick With The Pack

Chapter 11

A/N~ Okay, real quick. Thank you, whoever you are, for reading No Matter What You Do, Stick with the Pack. You are a huge help in my effort to to get published someday. After this goes through some Beta readers and editing, I am going to offer it as a free ebook on Smashwords, so if it's not to much trouble please give me your honest feedback, tell me what you want in this story. After you're done, visit http://beccalathorn.weebly.com/thank-you-with-your-help-with-stick-with-the-pack.html to get a treat from yours truly! Again, thank you for your help! 

~Becca.

            Before I left Markwood, I made one stop and one stop alone. At Maxie’s apartment, where everyone was asleep. I crawled in through the fire escape and snuck into Nathan and Scuff’s room. Scuff was in a race car bed Maxie had bought for fifty buck at a garage sale. He looked so innocent, so at peace in that little bed. Dear God, please protect Scuff. Please don’t let a thing touch him, not a thing. I silently drifted to his bed and kissed him on the forehead. And then I left. By paw, I ran for three days, until I was out of Oregon. After that it was a long journey to British Columbia. What I did, basically, to survive was little street shows with Baby. When I couldn’t afford to eat I’d hunt in the woods at night. Most of the journey I did on paw, but some of it when I was too damn tired I would hitch hike. I gotta tell you, it was hell. Most nights I got maybe four hours of sleep, my feet were about ready to just fall off of my legs. All time spent not trying to get the hell away from Markwood were spent thinking about how much I wanted to go  back. But how I made it to Canada wasn’t the interesting part. It was who I met on the way.

Going in chronological order, this first guy was one of the times I hitched. He was about Derek’s age, rusty old pickup pulling up on the side of a long road in the middle of the woods somewhere in Idaho. (Before I made my way to Canada, I needed to drop something off at Oddy’s place in Wisconsin.) He was real rugged looking, a thickening beard growing on his face that balanced square thin-framed glasses. He wore fannel with the buttons open and a white undershirt underneath, along with very bright blue jeans. He looked like a red neck, especially with the lumber-jack muscles. And from the smell of him he was a stray, which means that he wouldn’t be staying in this part of Idaho for long since it was pack territory. When he popped open the door I hauled my guitar and duffle in, hugging both of them between my knees.

            “Where you heading?” He asked in a voice that could belong to no eighteen year old, way to gruffy.

            “Couple states over.” I replied curtly.

            “I can take you as far as Rexburg, cool?”

            “Yeah, thanks.”

            “No problem.”

            He shifted the car into first gear and pulled off of the side of the road. “So…” He started to attempt small talk. “What’s your name?”

            “Madison.” I replied, trying to block his attempt.

            “Robbie Alphonse.” He offered his hand even though he should have been using it to drive. I didn’t shake it. He awkwardly put it back on the wheel. His name was bugging me. I heard it before, I know that for sure. “Yeah, I was on my way back from Markwood, in Oregon. You know, Western Oregon pack’s base of command. Not that you could really call it a pack with only three people.” He laughed. This one sure liked to talk. “A friend called me up, said his sister went missing a couple of days ago. Wanted me to keep a look out. I thought I’d drive up there, see if I could help with my super sniffer.”