Page 16 of Locke

“You just won’t leave, will you?” I put my hand on the side where my gun sat.

He didn’t whimper this time, but just pointed his snout to the ground and continued to look at the same spot. Curiosity got the best of me, so I walked forward, still cautious, and as I heard the last twig break, I gasped when I saw what sat in front of me.

A hand. A bloody human hand.

I took a step back, my eyes widening in disbelief. My gaze darted back and forth between the menacing wolf and the mysterious hand. The air was heavy with tension, and only the faint rustling of leaves from the breeze broke the eerie silence. I could feel my heart pounding in my chest as I anxiously awaited an answer.

Like he could answer.

“Where did you get that?” I asked, my voice barely a whisper.

Upon closer inspection, it became clear that the area contained an excessive amount of blood, surpassing what would be expected for a hand. The unmistakable scent of metallic tang filled my lungs. It was evident that the hand belonged to a male, as scars adorned the knuckles. The fingers, thick and weathered, showed evidence of being bitten, with the nails being noticeably short.

It was so much blood I felt my stomach flip inside itself. I covered my mouth and pinched my nose to get rid of the stench.

I’ve been around blood, caused blood myself but I never had the stomach for it. I usually wore a mask, to hide the smell, but this–ugh!

Did that damn beast kill someone from town and bring it to my campsite?

“And where did all this blood come from?” I spoke more to myself and followed the trail, which went right to my RV.

Shit!

I leaped over streams of blood with quick, adrenaline-fueled jumps. My hand trembled as I reached for the door, pulling it open with a creak. An overwhelming sense of frustration washedover me as I realized it was unlocked. I cursed myself for my carelessness, knowing that my fear of the relentless wolf had caused me to leave it vulnerable.

This entire mission was nothing but mistakes.

With a low, guttural grunt, I forcefully swung the door open, revealing a shocking sight. My eyes widened at the sight of a vast pool of crimson blood, vivid against the cold, tiled surface of the kitchen floor. As my gaze traveled further, I noticed a small, steady stream of blood that had previously gone unnoticed, slowly trickling out of the door and onto the weathered step outside. The blood continued to drip, each drop landing with a disturbingly audible plop.

A wave of relief washed over me, realizing that my recent meal, a heavy burger, had already settled deep within my intestines, sparing me from the urge to retch at the gruesome scene before me.

“Shit, what happened?” I stepped inside and saw things misplaced. The intruder moved things in my home; my space.

An intruder violated my home, which I had lived in for so long. Instead of crying over it, I pulled back my shoulders and marched over to the bed. I bent over and pulled out the fireproof lock box that held my computer and burner phone. I shook it and pulled on the door. The lock was still engaged, and two items remained inside. Thank God.

I took the key out of my pocket and shakily put it into the lock. When it opened, I pulled out the burner phone and snapped it in half. I threw it on the floor and stomped on it several times.

They were most likely looking for the burner phone. The number that would lead them to my family—the innocent part of my family.

I leaned over my knees, rubbing my hands down my face. What the hell was I going to do now? There could be several people after me now, and I don’t know who. Another bountyhunter trying to take out the competition? My father’s men? Some rando?

The wolf came in the door, taking careful steps around the pool of blood. His head hung low and he edged to me. His fur was clean, but there was one spot he missed and it was on the side of his face. Blood was still spattered on his maw.

“Did you do this?” I pointed to the floor. “Did you kill the intruder?”

The wolf, of course, didn’t answer. Instead, he kept his head lowered and came closer. I slowly reached out to touch the wolf’s head. He didn’t move. He watched me with those green eyes that looked far too much like a human’s, and I touched the center of his head.

Why I was doing this I wasn’t even sure. There was blood in my house, and a gnawed-off hand just outside, that he most likely chewed off.

Wait! I took that back, he’d brought it in here and put it on the kitchen table.

I made a fist and gently tapped it on my head.

What. The. Hell?

The wolf came closer and pulled on my jacket sleeve with his teeth. He pulled it away so I was no longer tapping my head with my fist. He stared at me, trying to get my attention and I just stared back.

“You killed someone in my house.” I gently shook my head.

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