For the next three days, I threw myself into research. I scoured every link Dixon sent me and every article I could find on Google. I still had plenty of time to decide if this was the right decision.
It definitely seemed like it was going to be a process, but strangely enough, I was a little excited about it. I finally knew how to make something of myself.
I knew that going with Wolf would be just another way to do that, but I was scared by the idea. Less scared than I had been in that ship and for an entirely different reason, but still.
And it would be so easy to just let Wolf take care of it. I wasn't even fully against the idea, I just didn't think I was ready. Besides, I didn't want to saddle my baggage on him. That wasn't fair. I barely wanted to make my parents deal with it.
Sometimes I didn't want to deal with it.
No, I was going to do what I could on my own. I wanted to prove to myself that I could get by on my own efforts. Make myself ready. And this . . . this was how I could do it. By throwing myself full-force into the idea of working for the FBI.
Get access to the bugs.
Kill them all.
Return to Wolf, standing tall atop a pile of their bones.
It was appealing. It was a novel idea. It was exactly what I needed.
There were details I needed to hammer out, still, mostly with him.
When I was ready, how would I get a hold of him?
Did I have to give myself a time limit?
I needed at the bare minimum six to seven years because I couldn't apply until I was 23 years old, then I'd need to get the proper clearances . . .
This was going to take some time.
And what if this was a one-time offer?
If that was the case, I wasn't sure if I'd be able to take the leap. If I'd be okay with giving up on this path I'd chosen for myself and going with him.
I would just have to wait until I spoke with him. Somehow, we'd have to find a way to understand each other. Or, rather, find a way for me to understand him.
The guilt was getting me the most. I couldn't shake the feeling that he would be disappointed, and that was the last thing I wanted. However, I wasn't sure why.
How would this disappoint him? He was probably doing me a favor by taking me away from this.
Taking care of a human, a normal trophy hunt, was probably the last thing he wanted.
Of course, then he wouldn't have taken the time to come find me in the first place . . .
Maybe I was overthinking this whole thing. No, I WAS overthinking this whole thing. But I was so lost and I'd been so uncertain about my future before. I wanted to cling to this possibility. I wanted to feel like I was in control.
Just once. Just once, I wanted to be in control.
This was in my hands. If I went with Wolf right now, as I was, everything was out of my hands. If I could just get myself to a place where I didn't feel like I was circling a drain . . .
I talked to my parents about finishing high school online. If I studied hard, I could take the test for my GED and graduate early. Then, I could start taking courses to work toward a bachelors degree and see about maybe getting a job at a police station . . .
A valid driver's license was a requirement, so I asked my parents to start teaching me. I'd been learning a bit here and there, but I hadn't cared for learning how to drive.
Now I guess I had to.
The days went by too quickly thanks to my busy body antics. As the sun started to dip below the horizon on the last night, an overwhelming sense of dread hovered over me.
What was certain was that I was looking forward to seeing him again, but not the conversation itself.
/Looking forward to seeing him./ I couldn't explain that one to myself if I tried.
As the day trudged on, I more than once caught myself imagining what he'd been doing for these past few days. Had help arrived yet or was he still waiting? Was he getting enough food?
My favorite theory was that he and Brutus were spending their time wrestling bears or something out in the mountains. If nothing else, it brought a smile to face imagining it.
/Silly macho aliens./
"What are you doing in your heavy clothes?" Mom asked as I struggled down the stairs later that night.
I didn't answer until I was at the bottom of the stairs. "I'm gonna go outside for a little bit. Get some fresh air."
"It's getting dark out, though."
"I want to see the stars."
Mom and Dad glanced at each other, then shrugged. "Alright, sweetie. Stay warm, okay? It's supposed to snow some more tonight. Don't stay out too long?"
Nodding, I opened the door to the backyard. Atlas tried to follow but I told him to stay and locked the doggy door. I made my way through the mush of half-melted snow toward the old swing set, having left my crutches behind.
More and more I was avoiding using them.
Dad had installed the sandbox and small playground when Alan was born so we all had a reason to go outside.
Apparently, living five minutes away from any number of hiking trails wasn't good enough.
I took a seat on one of the wings and pushed myself back and forth gently, staring off into space.
Finally, the sun disappeared and the stars came out, twinkling in the heavens. I leaned back in the swing and stared up at them as I swayed back and forth, wondering if they'd look any bigger in space.
Back in the house, Atlas was barking up a storm. I sat up a little straighter and looked around. It was dark now, and with how our dog was carrying on, I figured he had to be close.
Deciding now was a good time to move out of the kitchen window's line of sight, I got up off the swing. The door creaked open across the yard and I looked up in time to see Atlas tearing toward me, his ears flopping with each leap and bound.
"Mom, what are you doing?" I demanded.
"Atlas won't shut up. I think he wants to be outside with you. The doggy door got locked somehow. Throw the ball for him a couple of times," she suggested before going back inside.
I opened my mouth to protest, but her shadow was already disappearing back into the living room.
Whining, Atlas shoved his nose under my hand, tail wagging. He occasionally turned toward the trees behind our fence and growled, but he stopped when I admonished him. He followed me as I moved around to the side of the yard.
"Now, Atlas," I said quietly, kneeling down and taking his face in both of my hands.
He tried to pull away a couple of times, but I forced him to look at me. I gently massaged his cheeks and touched my nose to his.
"I have a visitor coming, okay? You're going to be nice to him okay? Otherwise, he might try to kill you and I really don't want that."
His only response was a gentle whine, followed by a lick to my face.
I spluttered and pulled back, wiping my nose on my sleeve. "No kisses!"
He whined at me and fidgeted, but his tail was still wagging.
"Alright, I'm glad we understand each other," I chuckled, letting his head go and sitting down. "Now where's your ball? Go get your ball!"
The reaction was instantaneous. The moment the word "ball" was out of my mouth, he was flitting across the yard, frantically searching for one of his many tennis balls.
He found two and somehow managed to bring both of them to me after some trouble fitting them in his mouth.
I rolled my eyes and picked the less slobbery of the two.
"I can only throw one, you stupid dog," I cooed affectionately.
He backed up a few paces, his tongue lolling from his mouth. I wiggled the ball around, making him twitch with anticipation.
Finally, I flung it across the yard. "Fetch!"
Atlas chased after the ball each time I threw it until he was too tired to continue—which was fine with me because my arm was tired as well. It took about fifteen minutes before he stopped and flopped to the ground.
I watched him chew on the tennis ball for a little bit before I called over to him. "C'mere boy."
He picked up the ball and trotted over to me, dropping it in the snow-covered sand.
It was past the slobber threshold for me—the consistency was a little too similar to that stupid alien slime for my comfort—so I didn't touch it, but I did pick up the other ball and throw that.
Atlas observed it fly across the yard, his ears perked. A low growl rumbled in his chest.
However, he didn't chase it. Despite this, it came flying back through the darkness of the night and landed at my feet. Atlas' fur stood on end and his hackles raised. That nervous energy was returning and I was glad I was shivering from the cold already.
Meant I couldn't tremble with anxiety.
"Atlas," I crooned, leaning forward to pet his rump.
He didn't flinch or stop looking into the pitch-black yard. His growl grew in volume, and then he lowered his head and peeled his lips away from his teeth, his ears back and posture oozing aggression.
Perfect. This was exactly what I had been trying to avoid. I doubted Wolf would kill my dog, but I wasn't positive. I definitely couldn't trust Brutus not to try something if he was around.
"Atlas, sit."
There was no budging him. He stayed right there in front of me, warning off the invisible intruder in front of us.
Finally, Wolf showed himself. Atlas didn't move or start barking, but his growl turned into a more menacing snarl. I reached out and took the tip of his tail in my hand, wiggling it a little bit, but he didn't so much as glance back at me.
Sighing, I moved to sit next to Atlas. I knew I had to be cautious around a dog during their threat display, but I was sure he wouldn't hurt me on purpose. Atlas finally acknowledged me but did not relax.
"It's alright," I whispered, rubbing his neck and ears. Turning my attention to Wolf, I said, "He shouldn't hurt you. He's just protective."
From where I was, I barely made out the derisive sound Wolf made before he ambled toward us. Atlas stiffened under my arms, and when Wolf was too close for his comfort, he pulled out of my grasp and shot forward meet Wolf.
"Atlas, no! Wolf don't hurt—"
For a brief second, I was certain I was about to lose my dog. I was braced for the sound of Wolf's blades singing free of their sheath, terrified that he was about to lose his cute little head.
However, Atlas stopped just short of reaching Wolf and tried to warn him off with a few barks and snap of his jaws. I staggered to my feet and stumbled toward them, casting furtive glances toward the house. The kitchen remained dark, though.
Though I knew there wasn't much I could do about my limp, I still tried to hide it.
None of that happened, though. Wolf merely looked down at him, his head tilted, and squatted at his level. Atlas took a step back, but didn't stop growling and baring his teeth.
Wolf growled back at him, but Atlas didn't waver.
I was worried that my dog would latch on to Wolf's arm at any moment, but he was keener on looking intimidating and trying to assert his dominance.
When I reached them, I kneeled at my dog's side. I was careful to make sure Atlas knew I was there before I grabbed a hold of his collar and pulled, murmuring reassures and compliments.
At least nothing bad was happening yet.
He turned long enough to slap me with his tongue, as if to say that he had everything under control, then gave Wolf his undivided attention.
After one last growl, he fell silent. He kept his ears down and teeth bared, his pink tongue licking his chops every few seconds.
The two of them stared at each other, and then Wolf turned toward me and rattled off a question. I tried to pull Atlas away again but he was intent to keep as much of his fuzzy body between me and the strange alien as possible.
"I need to know . . . is this an offer that expires?" I asked him. Depending on how he answered, it would change the entire outcome of his conversation.
To my surprise and immense relief, he said no.
"Then, I can't go with you right now," I said, meeting his gaze as evenly as I could.
Wolf tilted his head and waited for the explanation to come. I was expecting more of a prompt, but he remained quiet, expectant.
"There's something I have to do, first. Some things I have to take care of." It had taken almost the whole week to compose this in a way he'd understand and accept, and still, I found it hard to say without wavering.
They were hunters—that was their culture.
"There is a hunt I must complete, and certain training I have to do here. I know I can hunt and train under you, but I have to do this by myself first. I have a lot of healing to do and preparations to make. I hope you can understand," I finished, glad I had rehearsed.
This was not something I enjoyed doing in even normal circumstances.
For a few minutes, Wolf considered me. As he started to stand, I let go of Atlas and stood on shaky legs, but I kept my head high and met his impassive gaze. My dog let out a warning growl: Wolf's movement made him nervous.
When he finally responded, he dipped his head and reached out once more to shake my shoulder, ignoring Atlast when he snapped at him.
I had the presence of mind to return the gesture, though it compromised my balance and nearly toppled me. He grabbed my arm and steadied me, and I was glad Atlas didn't take that a threatening move.
"When I'm ready, how will I contact you?" I asked, feeling a little embarrassed.
Wolf reached into the pack strapped to his back and removed a small, square device. He turned it over between his fingers, showing me the smooth silver material and the button placed on top. I took it from him when he handed it over.
It fit perfectly in my palm, about the size of a garage door opener. I ran my thumb over the button and looked up at him. "I just have to press this?"
He nodded.
"If I do that, you'll know to come?"
Another nod.
That was a start. My stomach twisted with excitement . . . he would be a phone call away, kind of.
"Won't it take you years to travel across the universe to come back?" I asked him, suddenly remembering how long it took us just to get to Mars.
His response was the rumbling noise I knew was laughter and indicated in the negative.
"Well, I suppose that's a relief," I muttered. Especially considering that it might be several years before I was ready.
He reached out, rattling quietly, and did that patronizing head pat. I huffed in annoyance but smiled to myself.
It seemed he was about to leave, but he stopped and turned back toward me. I tilted my head to the side, shivering from the cold. There was something attached to his waist that he untied. I took it without hesitation when he handed it over.
It was another piece of jewelry, this time lined with sharp yellow teeth the size of my pinky fingers.
I looked up at Wolf, my mouth slightly open. "Is this—are these from the queen?"
The answer was yes.
They must have gone through the ship to scavenge what they could before destroying it completely. The queen was a trophy, and I was deserving of some of the spoils.
My fingers tightened around the trinket, careful not to poke myself on the sharp fangs, and I brought it in close to my chest. It held so much more value than the one he had given me before. It celebrated a victory, not a defeat.
"Thank you. For everything," I said.
Wolf inclined his head and looked to Atlas, who hadn't made a peep since our amicable exchange had started. His muscles were still tense, but at least he wasn't growling anymore.
After a few chittered words, assumed to be for the dog, Wolf disappeared into the shadows.
I couldn't even hear his footsteps on the slowly freezing slush, and I could scarcely make out his shimmering form as he jumped over my six-foot fence. Like some sort of big show-off. Then he was gone, vanished into the trees.
My heart sank, but I knew this was what I wanted. What I needed. When I was ready, he'd come for me again.
I waited a couple of minutes longer, then limped back to the house, tucking my new belongings into my coat so I could sneak them up to my room. My new treasures. Reminders of what waited for me, what I had to look forward to.
The muses that would motivate me to keep moving forward, to keep bettering myself until, one day, I could see him again.
Hello, readers!
Thursday seem to be bad days for me because I'm grumpy again! And looking for new work because my job sucks!!!
Anyway, sorry this is late. Had a cashier call out so I was stuck at the front all day. Still managed to eke this one out with all the edits and revisions. It's the last chapter!
Kind of. I still have the epilogue. Then I'm going to take a three day weekend. Updates will resume on Tuesday.