Living with the Dead

Two

"No!" My eyes snapped open and I muffled a scream, covering my mouth with my hands. I cradled my knees on my chest and rocked back and forth.

"It wasn't your fault," I told myself.

I watched as a tear rolled off my cheek and onto the sleeve of my grey jacket. The small tear soaked into the fabric and created a small circle. Finally I turned away. "No," I told myself. "They would want me to be strong"

I sat up and wiped my face. I got to my legs and grabbed my backpack off the ground. It was heavy for just a couple of things in there. I had a few more pairs of clothes, canned food, a pistol, a hatchet, and some wrapped candy. I threw the bag over my shoulder and walked out of the small abandoned shed I slept in a few nights. I'm on my way to go find my grandma Mary Hogan. I popped a green apple Jolly Rancher in my mouth and set of north towards Medford, Oregon where my grandma lives. One year ago when I was 12, my uncle brought me from my home in Kodiak, Alaska. I'm used to the cold. I slipped my hand inside my bag and pulled out my hatchet, for precaution, even though the streets have been pretty silent.

I picked up a faint whimpering sound. I lifted up my hatchet and dropped to a crouch. I crept to the end of the forest line, turned the corner and swung. I gasped and stopped an inch from a small black wolf pups nose. I dropped my hatchet down on the grass and picked the small thing into my arms and cradled its head in my hand. It was so small, probably the runt of the litter and the mother abandoned it because of the food shortage. I looked at it closely. Well, it is a him, no major injures besides cuts and being so skinny. I could see his little ribs. A low growl sounded in his throat. Why is he growling. I heard a gurgling sound behind me. I picked up my hatchet and turned around. A lurker lunged at me and I stabbed it in the head. Dark blood splattered on the ground and all over my shirt. The crippled body dropped to the ground in a heap. I exhaled a shaky breath. "That was a close one." I told the pup. I picked him up once again in my arms and carried him into the shelter of the trees. I unzipped my bag and pulled out a can of Spam.

"There you go," I told the wolf pup. I opened the can and he wolfed it down. No pun intended. "Good boy," I patted him on his small head. Let's go find granny.