Werewolf Skin (2 page)

“All moved in?” Uncle Colin asked. He was pouring orange juice into three
glasses. The sandwiches were set out on the small, round kitchen table.

Before I could answer him, we heard a hard knock on the back door. Aunt Marta opened it, and a girl about my age walked
in. Hannah.

Hannah was tall and thin, an inch or two taller than me. Aunt Marta was
right. Hannah was kind of cute. She had straight black hair, olive-green eyes,
and a nice smile. She wore a big green sweater pulled down over black tights.

Aunt Marta introduced us. We both said, “Hi.”

I hate meeting new people. It’s always so awkward.

Aunt Marta asked Hannah if she’d like a turkey sandwich. “No, thanks,” Hannah
replied. “I already ate lunch.”

I liked her voice. It was real low and husky. Kind of hoarse.

“Alex just arrived on the bus,” Aunt Marta told her. “That’s why we’re having
such a late lunch.”

I gobbled my sandwich down in a few seconds. I guess I didn’t realize how
hungry I was.

“Hannah, why don’t you and Alex do some exploring in the woods?” Uncle Colin
suggested. “He’s a city kid. You’ll have to show him what a tree is!”

Everyone laughed.

“I’ve seen lots of them in movies!” I joked.

Hannah had a great, husky laugh.

“I want to take a million photos,” I told her, grabbing my camera case.

“You’re into photography?” Hannah asked. “Just like your aunt and uncle?”

I nodded.

“I hope you have color film,” Hannah said. “The fall leaves are really
awesome now.”

We said good-bye to Uncle Colin and Aunt Marta and headed out the front door.
A red afternoon sun was sinking behind the trees. It made our shadows stretch
long and skinny over the grass.

“Hey—you’re stepping on my shadow!” Hannah protested, grinning. She swung
her leg to make her shadow kick my shadow.

“Ow!” I cried. I swung my fist, and my shadow slugged her shadow.

We had a good shadow fight, punching and kicking. Finally, she stomped on my
shadow with both of her sneakers. And I dropped to the ground, making my shadow
slump over the grass in a dead faint.

As I sat up, Hannah had her head tossed back, laughing. Her straight black
hair blew wildly around her face.

I pulled my camera from the case and quickly snapped a photo of her.

She stopped laughing. And straightened her hair with both hands. “Hey—why
did you do that?”

I shrugged. “Just wanted to.”

I climbed to my feet and raised the camera to my eye. I turned and pointed it
toward the Marlings’ house next door. I took a few steps toward the house, trying to frame
it in my viewfinder.

“Hey—!” I cried out as Hannah grabbed my arm.

“Alex—don’t take a picture!” she warned in a throaty whisper. “They’ll
see
you!”

“So what?” I shot back. But I felt a shiver as I saw something move in the
dark front window.

Was someone staring out at us?

I lowered my camera.

“Come on, Alex.” Hannah tugged me toward the back. “Are we going into the
woods or not?”

I squinted up at the Marlings’ house. “Why was my uncle so upset when I asked
about that house?” I asked Hannah. “What’s the big deal?”

“I don’t really know,” she replied, dropping my arm. “The Marlings are
supposed to be a weird old couple. I’ve never seen them. But… I’ve heard
stories about them.”

“What kind of stories?” I demanded.

“Frightening stories,” she whispered.

“No. Really. What kind of stories?” I insisted.

She didn’t answer. Her olive-green eyes narrowed at the broken porch, the
faded, stained shingles. “Let’s just stay away from there, Alex.”

She started jogging along the side of the house toward the backyard. But I
didn’t follow her. I crossed the driveway and stepped into the tall weeds of the
Marlings’ front yard.

“Alex—stop! Where are you going?” Hannah called.

Holding my camera at my waist, I made my way quickly up to the house. “I’m a
city kid,” I told Hannah. “I don’t scare easily.”

“Alex, please—” Hannah pleaded. “The Marlings don’t like kids. They don’t
like anyone coming up to their house. Please. Let’s go to the woods.”

I stepped up carefully onto the rotting floorboards of the front porch. I
raised my eyes to the front window.

The reflection of the setting, red sun filled the glass. For a moment, it
appeared that the window was on fire.

I had to look away.

Then, as the sunlight faded from the window-pane, I turned back—and gasped.

Inside the house, the window curtains were slashed and torn.

As if some kind of animal had clawed them, clawed them to shreds.

“Hannah—did you see this?” I called. I couldn’t take my eyes off the
shredded curtains.

She stood across the driveway, leaning her back against my aunt and uncle’s
house. “I don’t want to come over there,” she said softly, folding her arms over
her chest.

“But the curtains—” I started.

“I told you they’re weird,” Hannah said sharply. “And they don’t like kids
gawking through their windows. Come on, Alex.”

I backed away from the Marlings’ house. My shoe caught on a raised floorboard
of the rotting porch, and I nearly fell.

“Are we going to the woods or not?” Hannah asked impatiently.

“Sorry.” I pulled my shoe free and followed her toward the back. “Tell me
more about the Marlings,” I said, jogging to catch up to her. “Tell me some of
the frightening stories you heard about them.”

“No way,” Hannah replied in her breathy voice.

We trotted across my aunt and uncle’s backyard. The tall yellow and red trees
of the woods, tilting in afternoon shadows, stretched beyond the smooth lawn.

“Please?” I begged.

“Maybe in a few days, after Halloween,” Hannah replied. “After the full
moon.”

I followed Hannah’s gaze to the sky. A bright white moon—almost round as a
tennis ball—rose over the trees, even though it was still daylight.

Hannah shuddered. “I hate when the full moon comes,” she said. “I’ll be so
happy when it’s gone.”

“Why?” I demanded. “What’s the big deal about a full moon?”

She gazed back at the Marlings’ house. And didn’t reply.

We made our way through the trees. The fading sunlight filtered through the
leaves, sending shimmering spots of gold over the ground. Our shoes crackled
over twigs and dead leaves.

I found a gnarled old tree, bent over like an old man. The bark was pitted
and wrinkled like aged brown skin. Fat gray roots reached up from the dirt.

“Wow! This is
so cool
!” I declared, pulling my camera from the case.

Hannah laughed. “You really are a city kid.”

“But—look at this tree!” I declared. “It’s like—it’s like it’s alive!”

She laughed again. “Trees
are
alive, Alex!”

“You know what I mean,” I grumbled.

I started to snap photos of the bent, old tree. I stepped back and leaned
against a tilted birch tree. I tried to frame the old tree so that its shape
looked human.

Then I moved all around the tree, photographing its creases, its wrinkles. I
shot one slender branch that lowered itself to the ground like a weary arm.

I dropped down to my knees and snapped the roots reaching up from the ground
like skinny legs.

A soft buzz made me raise my gaze. A hummingbird hovered over a flowering
weed. I turned and tried to capture the tiny bird in my camera lens.

But the hummingbird was too fast for me. It darted away before I could snap
my shutter.

I climbed to my feet. Hannah was sitting cross-legged on the ground,
crunching dead leaves between her hands.

“Doesn’t that hummingbird know summer is over?” I murmured.

She stared at me blankly, as if she had forgotten I was there. “Oh. Sorry,
Alex. I didn’t see it.” She climbed to her feet.

“What happens if you keep going straight?” I asked, pointing deeper into the
woods.

“You come to Wolf Creek,” Hannah replied. “I’ll show you the creek next time.
But we’d better get going. We should get out of the woods before the sun goes
down.”

I suddenly thought of the wolves Uncle Colin had told me about. The wolves
that gave Wolf Creek its name.

“The wolves that used to live here in these woods,” I said. “They’re all gone—right?”

Hannah nodded. “Yes. They’re gone.”

And then a shrill howl rose up—so close, so close behind me. The high,
shrill wail of a wolf.

And I opened my mouth in a terrified scream.

I stumbled back against the birch tree. My camera banged against the trunk,
but I didn’t drop it.

“Hannah—?” I choked out. Her eyes were wide with surprise.

But before she could reply, two boys burst out from behind a tall evergreen
shrub. They tossed back their heads and howled like wolves.

“Hey—
you
guys!” Hannah exclaimed, making a disgusted face.

They were both short and thin, both with straight black hair and dark brown
eyes. They finished their howls, then gazed at me, gazed at me hungrily, like
wolves.

“Did we scare you?” one of them teased, his dark eyes flashing excitedly. He
wore a dark brown sweater pulled down over black denim jeans. He had a long
purple wool muffler wrapped around his neck.

“You two always scare me!” Hannah joked. “Your
faces
give me
nightmares!”

The other boy wore a baggy gray sweatshirt and baggy khakis that dragged on
the ground. He tossed back his head and let out another shrill wolf howl.

Hannah turned to me. “They’re in my class,” she explained. “That one is Sean
Kiner.” She pointed to the boy with the purple muffler. “And he’s Arjun Khosla.”

“Arjun?” I struggled with the name.

“It’s Indian,” he explained.

“Hannah told us you were coming,” Sean said, grinning.

“You’re a city kid, right?” Arjun asked.

“Well, yeah. Cleveland,” I murmured.

“So how do you like Wolf Creek?” Arjun asked. It didn’t sound like a
question. It sounded like a challenge.

They both stared at me with their dark eyes, studying me as if I were some
kind of weird fungus.

“I—I just got here,” I stammered.

They exchanged glances. “There are some things you should know about the
woods,” Sean said.

“Like what?” I asked.

He pointed to my feet. “Like you shouldn’t stand in a big clump of poison
ivy!”

“Huh?” I jumped back. And stared at the ground.

They both laughed.

There wasn’t any poison ivy.

“You guys are about as funny as dog puke,” Hannah sneered.

“You ought to know. You eat it for breakfast!” Sean replied.

He and Arjun laughed and slapped each other a high five.

Hannah sighed. “Remind me to laugh later,” she muttered, rolling her eyes.

For some reason, that started the two boys howling again.

When they stopped, Sean reached for my camera. “Can I see it?”

“Well…” I pulled back. “It’s a very expensive camera,” I told him. “I
really don’t like anyone else touching it.”

“Ooooh. Expensive!” he teased. “Is it cardboard? Let me see it!” He grabbed
for it again.

“Take my picture,” Arjun demanded. He pulled his lips apart with two fingers
and stuck out his tongue.

“That’s an improvement!” Hannah told him.

“Take my picture!” Arjun repeated.

“Give Alex a break,” Hannah snapped. “Get out of his face, you two.”

Arjun pretended to be hurt. “Why won’t he take my picture?”

“Because he doesn’t take animal photos!” Hannah sneered.

Sean laughed—and snatched the camera from my hands.

“Hey—come on!” I pleaded. I made a grab for it and missed.

Sean tossed the camera to Arjun. Arjun raised it and pretended to snap
Hannah’s photo. “Your face cracked the lens!” he exclaimed.

“I’m going to crack
your
face!” Hannah threatened.

“It’s a really expensive camera,” I repeated. “If anything happens to it—”

Hannah swiped the camera out of Arjun’s hands and handed it back to me.

I cradled it in my arms. “Thanks.”

The two boys moved toward me menacingly. Their dark eyes gleamed. Again,
watching them approach, their faces so hard, their eyes so cold, I thought of
wild animals.

“Leave him alone,” Hannah scolded.

“We’re just goofing,” Arjun replied. “We weren’t going to hurt the camera.”

“Yeah. We’re just kidding around,” Sean added. “What’s your problem?”

“No problem,” I replied, still cradling the camera.

Arjun raised his eyes to the darkening sky. Through the trees I could see
only gray. “It’s getting kind of late,” Arjun murmured.

Sean’s smile faded. “Let’s get out of here.” His eyes darted around the woods. Shadows deepened, and the air grew colder.

“They say some kind of wild creatures are loose in the woods,” Arjun said
softly.

“Arjun—give us a break,” Hannah groaned, rolling her eyes.

“No. Really,” Arjun insisted. “Some kind of creature tore off a deer’s head.
Tore it clean off.”

“We saw it,” Sean reported. His dark eyes glowed excitedly in the dimming
light. “It was so gross!”

“The deer’s eyes stared up at us,” Arjun added. “And bugs crawled out of its
open neck.”

“Yuck!” Hannah exclaimed, covering her mouth with one hand. “You’re making
this up—right?”

“No. I’m not.” Sean glanced up at the moon.

“It’s almost a full moon. The full moon makes all the strange creatures come
out of hiding,” he continued, speaking so softly, his voice just above a
whisper. “Especially at Halloween. And the moon will be completely full that
night.”

I shivered. The back of my neck tingled. I suddenly felt cold all over.

Was it the wind? Or Sean’s frightening words?

I pictured the deer head lying on the ground.