Chapter 2

A distant coyote howled and another answered, closer. Becca remained still. She knew the base was surrounded by a coyote fence. It was chain link with razor wire on top that kept out more than coyotes. That would have been more soothing if she was actually on the base and not paralleling it. But by the sound of the howl, the coyote was far off and not a threat to her.

She kept her eyes closed, listening to the mournful cries of the pack. The light outside her closed lids faded and Becca felt the moon slide behind the clouds, the complete darkness welcome to her splitting head. Another howl sounded, closer this time. She fought down the primal urge to cringe at their predatory night chorus. She was relatively safe here. No healthy coyote would attack a grown human and her body still screamed at her for her exertions. She felt no compulsion to move.

Something canine barked, big, harsh barks nearer still than the coyotes' howls. They didn't sound like the dogs she had grown up hearing. She wasn't an expert in wildlife and couldn't be sure what she was hearing but Danny had told her they did not have

wolves in this part of California anymore. Only coyotes and wild dogs, some of which she seriously suspected she would be meeting soon. Becca scanned the darkness nervously.

As would be expected, her eyes found nothing. Her gorge rose again and she stood hurriedly, stumbling out a few yards, not wanting to soil her place of solitude. Stomach now certainly empty, Becca staggered back to resume her prone position on her nest of leaves and soft moss, resting her head against the tree trunk at her back.

Heavy, rhythmic pounding reached her ears. Becca sat bolt upright, her mind digging down to its subconscious level to identify why hearing the mixture of sounds was so alarming. Neither alone was alarming but put together they caused her chest to tighten painfully, and then it came to her. Her vision from this morning. It was here, confronting her head on. The visions were coming faster and more frequently of late, seemingly undeterred by the fact that they were entirely unwanted. Now wasn't the time to analyze why this was happening.

As soon as she made the connection to her vision, Becca's felt stupid for not seeing her symptoms for what they were. They often preceded an "event." It was clumsy of her to have assumed the nausea had been from dinner, even if it had been reminiscent of eating a shoe covered in butter sauce.

In that instant, she was afraid. Memory could guide Becca home but she knew the fastest route was still nearly a mile back, along roads that would be deserted this time of night. Anyone going out was already there and wouldn't be coming back until well after midnight. That seemed to be the routine. As an MP, no one was more aware of the daily patterns of the men and women living here than her.

Having decided against the inevitable failure of running, she began to shuffle around on the ground, feeling for a fallen branch or rock, anything she could use as a weapon to defend herself. She prayed silently for the clouds to pass and the moon to return, and with it her sight. Meanwhile, she listened to the thumping. It was familiarly cadenced; something in the way it moved told her it couldn't be human. The footfalls were in a four beat rhythm. A loud rhythm. It was a big, heavy animal. She would have thought a horse by the thunder, except the odd muffling of the sound and lack of clattering on the many rocks said paws, not hooves. Becca tried to remember if anyone had a large dog near the base. She had patrolled the perimeter for over a year and could not recall anything larger than a Labrador. This was big. This was no Labrador.

When the footfalls were nearly upon her she deciphered a second set closing in as well. Simultaneously, Becca's hand touched a branch as long and thick as her arm. She hoped it wasn't so old it would break when she tried to use it; it would have to do. The sounds became slower as the paws reached her trees. Loud snuffling came from nearby off to her left. Becca pressed her back against the broadest part of the trunk and opened her eyes as wide as she could. In her head, she reached down trying to find the extra sense that had kept her safe all her life. Unfortunately, it had been screeching at her for so long

its initial trigger had gotten mixed up with her fear and she couldn't separate the two. It was not going to give her a better idea of what she faced. Feeling abandoned, Becca waited with her makeshift club poised.

She did not wait long. A small yip sounded right beside her and she swung her club where she thought a large dog's head would be. She was rewarded with a surprised yelp and the feel of the repercussion as it connected solidly with a dense mass. Having some direction, she followed the first blow with another shorter jab. This one again resulted in a satisfying connection and she heard the debris under their feet shift as the dog retreated.

The other one reached them. She heard more scuffling in front of her and a low whine. The other dog yipped back. Becca raised her club, opening her eyes still wider to no avail. With no external light there was nothing for her eyes to work with. But just as she felt a cloak of dismay beginning to weigh her down, a glimmer of light broke through and shone from above. The cloud covering the moon moved on, leaving it to shine once more. Although as soon as the light came, Becca wished it would disappear again.

The icy fingers of fear, true and awful, mind-numbing fear clawed its way into her spine. A stone's throw from her position stood two enormous shaggy beasts that had to be wolves, though where they came from she could only speculate. Part of her brain believed them escapees from the zoo while discounting it in the same passing stroke. Another part of her brain told her these were more than just animal. She watched them look at each other, one tipping its head as if listening and the other appearing to nod in agreement.

Shaking it off as a hallucination in her agitated state, Becca raised her club again like she was up at bat, positioning herself against a tree to keep her back guarded. Speaking her thoughts aloud often acted as a therapeutic device for Becca and was a byproduct of too much time spent alone. Now she did it hoping it would give her strength and also hoping her human voice would sooth the large creatures.

"That will teach me to ignore my gut," she began in a low voice. "I saw you coming last night and I didn't listen. Now that we know both of us can hurt each other let's agree to part ways, huh? You go your way, I'll go mine." She gave free rein to her thoughts out of a need to hear something other than their heavy panting, which just made her focus all the more on the two sets of large white teeth well within leaping distance of her all too fragile flesh.

The wolves closed their mouths, tipping their heads in her direction, and blinked. Becca foolishly thought it looked like they could understand. Nervous yet hopeful she was soothing them at least, Becca continued talking. Better to have them calm than seeing her as a threat.

"Well, I guess I didn't see you. I heard you, but I saw something else with you in my vision." A chuckle, high pitched with strain, leaked through, "I had no idea you'd be quite like this though. Where in hell did you come from and why are you so damned

big?" Seeing them temporarily captivated, Becca made the decision to try to reach the road. She pushed herself smoothly away from the tree and began to take small, careful steps backward.

"Don't follow me. Stay where you are," she said in a singsong chant she found comforting. It sounded like a soothing tune her mother used to hum when she was doing chores around the house. Becca ignored the picture of her mother, not needing the distraction. "I'm nothing interesting, nothing to follow."

Her feet were making minimal noise as she carefully stepped back, over and again in high exaggerated steps in an effort not to get caught up on anything and trip. By her recollection she should be out of the trees in another few feet. Then she would have a quarter mile of relatively flat desert scrub to navigate before she'd be behind the safety of the fence. She worried she would get hung up in any of the low lying tangles of brush that were impossible to walk through, or fall into a nest of snakes or scorpions in the process.

Not giving up and pushing aside the fear clouding her senses, Becca tried to feel for any guidance her instincts might be giving her. Giving herself over to her faith in her instincts, Becca closed her eyes and breathed steadily in and out, quieting herself so that she could listen.

Calmer now, she was more receptive. As soon as her eyes closed, she heard not the sound inside her head warning her, but a sound outside which crept in, distracting her. It was the sound of paws crunching the dried matter beneath them as they slowly stalked after her. Becca heard the paws beginning to fall in more rapid succession. The wolves were curious again.

She opened her eyes and focused on those now closing in on her. The wolf in the lead was a rich chestnut color, regarding her evenly with green eyes far more intelligent than a normal animal should be. As she stared into them, she felt her instinct telling her this was okay; this was not what she needed to be afraid of. As crazy as it sounded, she didn't question it.

Becca stopped moving backward and the wolves halted with her. The only sound in the ensuing silence was the soft sound of their breathing. Her gaze was drawn to the green eyes of the lead wolf. Letting her body do what her mind should have screamed at her not to, Becca extended a hand out to the large cinnamon muzzle inches from her fingertips.

At her gesture, the creature cocked his head and blinked. Becca got the impression he was deciding how to take her advance.

"That's right, don't be afraid, wolf. I think you're a good wolf. You won't hurt me." She kept up the singsong cadence, humming after the words were gone.

The large black nose closed the distance between it and her hand, touching her and snuffling loudly on her palm. It tickled and Becca smiled. The green eyes rose to hers again and she swore she saw him wink. Yes, it felt like a him. Her shoulders eased in increments while she kept her hand extended, not sure what to do from there, afraid to break the truce they'd reached.

A low growl erupted from the creature moving up beside the green eyed wolf. This one was slightly smaller and more honey brown with amber eyes. A female perhaps? As it approached, Becca's guiding instinct told her this one did not share the same forgiving nature as its counterpart.

Becca didn't dare glance away to see how far she was now from the road that would lead her back onto the base. She was certain as soon as she broke her stare the smaller wolf would leap and Becca did not entertain any illusions what her future would be from there.

While Becca stared at the amber-eyed threat, she felt the low vibrations from the larger one's rumblings through her fingers, still a hands breadth from its teeth. Fearing it was now in agreement with the smaller one that Becca should be eaten, she shot a quick glance at it to see how close the big one had gotten, certain it would be the last thing she would ever see.

Except when she looked, she saw that its giant head was turned away from her. His growls were aimed at the other one, not Becca. She let her instinct guide her again and took a quick step that put her at the shoulder of the big one, creating a barricade with his body.

Becca standing that close to its comrade pushed the smaller one over the edge. Her growl rose to a snarl and she stood up on her hind feet, the male rose to meet her and their bodies collided with a bone jarring crash felt through the earth beneath her feet. Becca stepped back too quickly and her heel caught on a low bramble, bringing her down hard on her back. The momentum carried her head to the ground where it struck a rock with a dull thud.

The snarling kept her attention on the immediate threat of the female wolf and Becca ignored the pain knifing through her head accompanied by the warm flow of liquid now traveling down the back of her neck to soak into her shirts.

The female stopped snarling, lifted her muzzle in Becca's direction to sniff, and her lips pulled back into an eerily human smile. In a feat of acrobatic beauty, the honey colored female pulled up her front legs, twisted her front half and leapt over the male's larger form. She barely landed before lunging at Becca who rolled out of the way just in time.

Teeth grabbed her shoe and, reacting automatically, Becca mustered all the strength she had and kicked the tender nose with her other foot. Roaring in pain and fury, the female reared back and threw herself at Becca. The male bit her side but it did not hinder her attack in the least. Instead, she dropped lower until her teeth were inches from Becca's

chin and her teeth locked onto the neck of her shirt. The shock of the female's hot breath on her skin made Becca jump, tearing her pullover open to her undershirt. Her dog tags flashed in the moonlight.

"Stop," a dark, firm voice called out of the darkness.

The wolves fell back a full body length and sat on their haunches. Becca couldn't see where the voice had come from and was only half certain it hadn't been imagined, due in part to the blood leaking in thick, steady drops down her back.

One of the wolves whined. Becca hadn't seen but guessed it to be the male because of the other's snarling response.

"That is enough," the voice cracked out deep and commanding.

The wolves lay down on their bellies, muzzles stretched out before them with their ears flat to their heads, their supplication total.

Becca was dizzy; the moon was again slipping behind the fast moving clouds and her vision was rapidly disappearing. Fearfully she tried to scurry backward, putting more distance between herself and the multiple threats facing her before she lost all ability to see them. There was no cover here at the edge of her trees. Her hand groped beside her in vain trying to locate the makeshift club she had lost when she'd fallen.

The darkness that engulfed her was immense. Her eyes widened, trying to catch a glimpse of the source of the mysterious voice and saw nothing. Becca put her hand behind her head and pulled it away, sticky and wreaking of salty iron. The amount on her hand did not bode well for her endurance even if she could see to run. Protectively, she pulled her legs up, making herself as small as possible, and stared out into the night. Waiting seemed to be her only option.

It felt an eternity, though in reality it was probably less than a minute, when Becca finally saw something. At first she thought it was the moonlight shining on an object. When it moved steadily nearer, the terror she already felt doubled to a paralyzing level even her military training could not overcome.

The white orb from her vision, the one she had neglected to remember in the wake of the wolves, shone of its own accord, gliding forward ever closer. As it drew near she could make out the two dark holes were actually a pair of eyes sunken into a bone white face, absent any sign of hair or color. The eyes focused on her and Becca could not stop the frightened whimper that escaped her lips. Their obsidian color stole their spark, the only sign of life, from the light above. None came from within. She was as obedient as the wolves who so clearly called this nightmarish creature their master.

"Forgive them. They lose much of their reason when the moon waxes full. We did not know you were one of ours." The voice, so bold before, was now silky smooth, gliding over her mind and covering it with a haze to make all else foggy and unclear.

Becca could not speak to him; only gape in wonder. She thought she saw him scenting the air as the female wolf had done, but in the darkness it was hard for her to be sure what she was seeing. A passing thought of her likely concussion had her wondering if any of this was even real.

His face drew nearer and Becca felt an urge to pull away while the powerful macabre allure of his dead eyes held her firm. When he was hovering over her, Becca's neck craned back to see a white hand come forward from the darkness and felt it stroke her blood slick neck. His fingers were ice cold, sending shivers down her spine not just from temperature, but from the revulsion that twisted her insides at his touch.

With his hand still on her flesh, the white figure felt her cringe and, instead of retracting his fingers, he let them trail down her neck to follow the curve of her collarbone, leaving them there in a silent assurance that she breathed at his whim. Seeing Becca's comprehension, he smiled.

His long pointed canines were the last thing Becca saw before the looming darkness inside her mind enveloped her.