Chapter Text
Turning into the desolate lot of Calloway’s General Store, Ricky parked his midnight blue sedan under the flickering street lamp, switching off the stuttering engine and lights as they shined in the reflection of the store's large windows. Hand-painted pumpkins and smiling ghosts filled the smudgy panes. It was only 7:24 PM, yet the sun was long gone, replaced with a glistening moon. The wispy painted hues of orange, magenta, and purple, now fully an inky black; tiny dots blinked and shimmered in the sky, breathing life into the darkness.
With an obnoxious creak, he pushed upon the door and hopped out of the car, his feet immediately landing in a centimeters-deep puddle of rainwater mixed with motor oil – rainbow streaks rippling in the never-still water.
Cringing as water seeped into his socks and pant legs, she climbed out of the front seat, slamming the door shut with the palm of his hand. Locking the car with a few extra taps on the plastic remote for good measure, he jogged into the store, the bell jingling as he pushed his way in from the freezing cold.
The store was entirely empty, although at first, it was pretty hard to tell. The rural market was found at the edge of the mountain town and had been here for generations. And its interior decor showed that age – big wooden signs filled the walls, lit by exposed bulbs and swinging lights, and whirling ceiling fans spun round and round in the center of the roof. Instead of large metal, industry-standard shelving, and bins, there were wooden shelves and barrels lined with checkerboard cloths, its aisles were packed closely together, and the store was stocked with a mix of common household brand names and products from more local businesses. Packets of M&Ms and Reese’s peanut butter cups were being sold right next to a variety of Ethel May’s homemade fudge, the gargantuan squares of rich chocolate made fresh every weekend and sold the very next Monday morning.
Ricky picked up a red basket and made his way through the aisles, grabbing things from cereal, bread, boxes of macaroni and cheese, and butter, to household items like toilet paper and batteries. When it came to buying the smaller stuff on his way back to his home, Ricky preferred to visit this shop instead of the big chain supermarket further into town. Fewer crowds and more warm, homely service.
“We’re closing,” a voice rang out from behind the counter. She hummed to some pop song from the sixties that played over the speakers as she counted the till of one of the registers, not bothering to look up from her task.
“Can’t make time for your favorite customer?” Ricky smiled to himself, stuffing jars of peanut butter, raspberry preserves, and locally made apple butter into his cart.
“Ricky?” The older woman peered up, pausing her counting. She put the bills down on the counter and let her wire glasses which were tied to a lime green strap, dangle around her neck. Her thinning strawberry lemonade hair was pinned up in some updo that looked much more complex than it actually was; a pencil stick in the top. “What are you doing here so late?”
“Good evening to you too, Ethel May,” Ricky muttered, bending down to grab a few cans of soup and packed vegetables. “Nice weather we’re having, huh?”
“No, it’s shit,” she replied flatly, keeping a curious eye on the young shopper as he moseyed up and down the lanes. “And you still haven’t answered my question: what are you doing down here?”
“I came to visit my favorite store owner,” he beamed, giving the woman his biggest, cheese-filled smile. Showing off all his perfectly white teeth.
“Now, I know you didn’t come all the way down the mountains in this weather just to come in and say hi right before closing. And aren’t those roads supposed to be closed off for the next few days?”
“You act as if I live at the very top of the mountains,” Ricky groaned, tilting his head back and staring straight up at the golden light hanging above his head.
“That doesn’t mean the roads aren’t any less of a mess! Neighbors had power outages that lasted hours last night. It took the will of God to drag me outta my house and open up the store today.”
As much as Ricky protested her trepidation, she wasn’t quite wrong. Storms weren’t that abnormal during this time of the year, but last night's storm was admittedly intense. And it didn’t help that the morning brought below-freezing temperatures to add to the mix. It left not just homes a wreck but the streets a mess – hulking trees and their dislodged branches fell onto and blocked damaged roads, and some places were stuck dealing with either flooding or icy paths. And even some places had apparently experienced power outages. Ricky had been mostly fine besides some howling winds, flickering lights, and spotting wifi. But the ramifications of the storm did make his normal twenty-five-ish minute drive into town from his secluded home halfway up the mountain, take always half that. Driving through dodgy parts of the woods on barely lit unpaved roads never felt as harrowing until he had to face it today. But he was low on food and other basic amenities so the journey was sadly a necessity.
“True, but…saying hello was just too appealing not to come by. And buying some batteries, that was important too since I’m out. Also, do you have any matches or a lighter?”
“Right over there,” Ethel May pointed a few feet away, toward the other end of the room. “Grab some candles too, on the house.”
Ricky tried to object, “I thought the worst of the storm was over?”
“Just in case your power goes out,” Ethel Malt insisted, already walking out from behind the counter to a small soup merchandiser a few feet away. Steam rushed out and floated in the air as she lifted the lid and stirred the ladle in the pot. “And take some of this chili home with you. Made it fresh last night. It's hot and spicy. I even got some leftover sour cream and shredded cheese for you, just how you like it."
“Now you’re spoiling me, Ethel May,” Ricky heaved as he placed his heavy cart on top of the checkout counter.
“Oh hush you,” she brushed him off, filling a large plastic container with meat and bean soup. “I was just gonna throw the rest of this out anyway. Might as well pawn it off on you.”
“I’m honored to be a pawn,” Ricky smiled, reaching out to grab the chili, “thank you.”
“You’re very welcome,” the elderly woman replied, a kind grin filling her wrinkled face. As she rang up and bagged Ricky’s groceries, she paused, turning her attention to the young man. “Did I ever tell you about the wolf I saw recently?”
Ricky raised a brow, utterly stumped by the question, “a…wolf?”
Ethel May nodded her head, “yes, a wolf.”
“Aren’t wolves normally found in the woods?”
“Not here in Colorado,” Ethel May corrected Ricky pointedly, forcefully stuffing scanned items into a brown paper sack. “They’re usually found more northwest or around Wisconsin. But besides that, listen here. A few days back, after I finished closing up shop, I was heading to my car when I saw it.”
“It?” Ricky parroted.
The senior clerk nodded, “the wolf. It was pretty small for a wolf but it was a wolf, no doubt about it. But that wasn't what was so freaky about it. The weird thing was, the dang thing was nearly jet-black! Now, I’ve seen gray wolves, and even a few brown ones, but not no black ones! I got my phone out to shine my flashlight on the beast, but when I got it out, its fur was also like it was translucent. Like I could just barely see through it. I tried to snap a photo, but these damn smartphones are too difficult. By the time I stopped finicking with the thing, the wolf was gone.”
“Are you sure what you saw was a wolf?” Ricky offered, not convinced by the woman’s tale. “You did mention needing a new pair of glasses. Maybe it was just a weird raccoon or something?”
“I’m old, not stupid. I can tell the difference between a raccoon and a bloody wolf,” Ethel May huffed, ringing up the last of Ricky’s stuff. “Just for doubting me, I should charge you for the chili.”
“Uh, nuh-uh,” Ricky argued, trying to free the bag from the woman’s grasp and pull it closer to him. “That was a gift.”
“And you’re being a little shit. Questioning my eyesight…”
“Alright, alright, I’m sorry,” Ricky surrendered. “I keep my eyes peeled for black wolf and if I see anything, you’ll be the first to know.”
“Much better,” Ethel May relented, releasing the bag.
After a few more minutes of town gossip, Ricky paid for his groceries and wished Ethel May a goodnight, hopping back into his car to begin the trek back home up the mountain.
Even with his headlights and the limited lamps that lined the winding, rocky streets, it was near impossible to see. Mixed with freshly cracked potholes, the constant obstructions blocking parts of the road, and the falling rain, driving back home was like trying to complete an obstacle course.
Steering his way through the maze, a buzzing sound stole Ricky’s attention away from the road. With a fast look down, he glanced at his phone: Missed Call from Mike Bowen (1).
‘Absolutely not,’ Ricky lamented, clicking the power button, the screen going dark.
Lifting his head back up, he was suddenly greeted by the sight of a small, dark figure standing on all fours in the middle of the road, only about a dozen feet in front of him.
“Shit!” Ricky gripped the steering wheel and slammed on his brakes causing the car to come to a screeching halt, his eyes screwing shut. The brown grocery bag fell, spilling a portion of its contents all over the interior floor.
Taking a few deep breaths, Ricky hesitantly peeled his eyelids open. Miraculously, there wasn’t a smear of blood and dead carcass in front of him, the car thankfully stopping a few feet away from the figure. Ricky rapidly blinked, squinting his eyes, and slowly bent forward to get a better look out his unclean windshield.
His eyes soon went wide, a gasp getting stuck in his throat. Right outside his car, was a black wolf. Its fur shimmered in the light of the golden headlights. Its eyes trained, not on the car in front of it, but on Ricky himself, as if it knew he was sitting behind the wheel.
Parking the car, Ricky ripped off his seatbelt, threw up the car door, and stepped out onto the road. But by the time he managed to get out, the wolf was already gone. “Damn, guess I owe Ethel May an apology...”
CRACK
Ricky snapped his head over in the direction of the sound. He pulled out his phone, shining the flashlight through the bushes and tree trunks. And that’s when he saw it: a black leather boot. Finding a show in the woods was nothing special, but it was an entirely different case when that shoe was attached to an entire human being.
“Oh shit,” Ricky rushed from his car to the body. It was a girl, most likely somewhere around his age. She looked like she had collapsed, her body crumpled in what looked to be a seriously uncomfortable position.
“Hey! Hey, are you okay? Wake up!” Ricky tried shaking her awake, but the girl remained unconscious.
The stranger was drenched, clothes and pulled back hair dark and flat against her frame. Her tawny skin was now severely pale with a worrisome tint of blue. Ricky watched her chest rise and fall, rise and fall. She was breathing but that did only the bare minimum of alleviating Ricky’s anxieties. What the hell was she doing out here in the middle of the woods with no gear? Right after a storm no less!
Ricky looked around, debating what to do. He couldn’t take her back down the mountain, the roads were closed. He had already broken the law by driving on them now, he couldn’t risk not being able to get back up the mountain and home. But the roads being closed also meant that emergency services were most likely a bust until the roads opened again as well.
‘Stupid small town,’ he thought pitifully to himself. During his internal battle, the rain began to pick up, falling down on the two of them even harder. Ricky watched as the girl's body started to shake. It was only a little tremor, but that was a big enough sign for Ricky. He couldn’t just leave her here.
He hauled the girl up and laid her out in the backseat of his car, not bothering to buckle her in. Cranking up the heater to its highest setting, Ricky carefully zoomed home, arriving at the hidden away vacation home that he had been calling his abode for the past four months.
Scooping up the girl once more, he carried her inside, setting her down on the large sofa directly in front of the fireplace. Racing back out to the car, Ricky picked up his groceries and ran back inside, locking the door behind him. Grabbing the matchbox, he pulled out a short, thin stick and with fumbling fingers lit a small fire. A desperate attempt to warm the stranger up.
With the fire burning in the pit, he fixed his attention back on the woman. She was still sopping wet, her body caked in mud and debris. Ricky gulped, he didn’t want to mess with her any further, but he also didn’t want the couch to get destroyed (and her get even sicker or whatever).
With hesitant feet and shaky hands, Ricky reached down and untied her worn hiking boots, gently yanking them off her feet. Next, he unzipped her long burgundy padded jacket, the coat reaching down past her mid-thigh. Thankfully, the jacket had taken much of the weather’s beating, leaving her garments underneath mostly unscathed.
Snatching a towel from the nearby bathroom, Ricky threw it over the back of the couch. He draped a thick blanket over the woman’s body, making sure her limbs were tucked in properly, and placed a pillow under her head. He could picture his parent's disapproving glare if he hadn’t done so.
Unpacking the rest of his stuff and reheating the bowl of chili, Ricky tiptoed back to his room, taking one last sparing glance at the stranger in his living room. Her eyes, still tightly shut, borderline unmoving. However, instead of appearing as the poster child of a feeble, sickly body, she now looked almost peaceful. Pretty even.
With a shake of his head, Ricky marched back to his room. He was fully ready to pass out himself once his head hit the pillows. He’d leave the girl, for now, dealing with her was now tomorrow’s problem.
‘Ricky, stop.’
‘Ricky, please be reasonable.’
‘You’re exhausting. I can’t do this anymore.’
‘Help! Someone, please help! I think this man’s dying!’
‘RICKY!’
CRASH!
Ricky’s eyes flew open, mind ripped away from distant memories that felt more like a never-ending barrage of nightmares. The first beams of sunlight bled through the small parting of the curtains, partially blinding Ricky’s vision. Tearing the sticky satin sheets of his sweat-drenched body, he rushed out the door to find the cause of the noise.
No weapon, no phone, zero self-preservation.
When he reached the living room, Ricky was shocked to see the woman awake – her hair frizzy from the rainwater and sleeping on the couch, eyes piercing and wild, darting back and forth to find every possible means of escape she could take. The boots and jacket Ricky removed from her body the night before were now in her arms. Her body was on high alert like she was ready to pounce at the slightest provocation. And judging by her stance and unwavering ferocity, she had seemingly been in a brawl or two – and won.
“Who are you? Where am I? And why the hell did you kidnap me?”
‘Oh shit.’