Wolf

Rindul couldn’t return to where the others were hiding. She couldn’t risk giving anything away to anyone or anything that may be watching.

Less than an hour ago, she survived an encounter from one of the marauders; a large man traveling alone without a hint of concern in his demeanor. The small girl could still remember his predator-like movements and how he somehow knew where she and her companions were hiding without seeing them.

Rindul could count on one hand how many times she’d seen someone traveling alone in the open. His scavenging one of their decoy houses by himself spoke volumes on how dangerous he was. Yet the others hadn’t seen what she did and now they were gone.

She stopped in her thoughts and held her breath upon hearing a twig snap to her left. Rindul hated and loved the night at that moment; grateful and frustrated she couldn’t see what was in the dark simultaneously knowing most would be as hindered as she was by the lack of light. Her mind went into overdrive in thinking of the different places she could retreat too, if necessary.

Of the few locations available to her, the image of an old, two story barn entered her mind.

She remained still, breathing shallow as time passed to minimize any sound she might make.

When she felt it was relatively safe to do so, Rindul focused on hearing beyond what her eyes could see.

A high-pitched ring from the silence started to envelop her mind but was interrupted by the faint sound of dry, tall grass being moved, probably to clear a path. Who or whatever it was, moved toward her.

She frowned.

True, the marauder wasn’t chasing her anymore.

Nevertheless, where predators roamed, vultures were never far behind.

After wiping the sweat from her hands onto her coat, she reached into one of the pockets and pulled out a half-filled pack of cigarettes and a lighter. Removing one, she lit it underneath her coat to conceal the flame it created. Once the faint orange glow from the end fizzled out, she flicked the smoke in the opposite direction she was headed.

A couple minutes later she heard someone call out about the tobacco smell, followed by a whispered shout for joy. More hushed voices could be heard that turned to begging and pleading to trade for a drag.

Rindul listened intently, hoping it would be enough to distract them from looking for her any longer. Turning in the direction of her destination caused her to hesitate. She knew the vultures would do horrible things to her if they caught her, but part of her longed to hear human voices.

Ignoring the longing for human interaction, she shook her head in frustration and stepped into the dark.

When Rindul reached the barn she slipped inside without a sound, leaving the door ajar instead of closing and barring it like she wanted too. She instinctively touched the heart-shaped locket around her neck underneath her clothes, remembering the words of her father.

Leave things as they are, don’t let where you're hiding say you're hiding...

It had been several weeks since she’d been here, navigating in the dark around farm equipment and tools from memory caused her to move slower than she wanted.

“Over here!” a male voice from further outside called out.

Rindul nearly fell into a pig trough filled with stagnant water when she jumped. Fortunately, when she reached out to balance herself, her hands found the ladder used to get to the loft above.

Stepping around it, she continued to the back and followed the wall to where a pile of rotting lumber, broken equipment and burlap bags were stacked against the corner.

Behind her, she could hear the door to the barn being pulled open and could sense light filling her peripheral vision.

She dropped to a crawl and frantically searched for the opening she’d found weeks ago.

What if it had collapsed? What if they heard her? What if they decided to burn the place down?

The man holding the light called out over his shoulder. “Get everyone in and close the door. I’ll make sure it’s clear.”

The light grew brighter as it approached where she was.

Her breathing quickened.

She moved around the junk pile away from the light--and spotted the almost imperceptible opening. Pulling her coat tight against her body, she wormed her way through the small hole and continued down and then up until she came to a small cavity in the mound. She sat up and held still. Dim light shone through the various holes of the debris, but nothing that would reveal where she was.

She could only hope the man didn’t start pulling anything off the heap.

Rindul looked to her left and her muscles tensed.

Staring back at her in complete silence with an expression that mirrored her own was a wolf roughly the same size as herself. The creature didn’t growl or whine. Its green eyes were more intent on the light outside than it was on the small girl in front of it.

After a few seconds the man grunted in content and went to join the others coming inside the barn.

“Where’s Randy?” one asked.

“Still looking for whoever left the cigarette. Told him that guy’s long gone, he wouldn’t listen.” answered the second.

“Find anything in here?” a third, higher pitched voice asked as he kicked something metal.

“Nah, but this stuff ain’t goin’ anywhere. We can tear the place apart in the morning.”

Minutes later, the lantern was set to its lowest setting and the barn fell silent. The door opened and closed six more times but no one spoke to each other, other than asking about the one named Randy who never showed.

An hour or so passed before Rindul could make out the deep sleep patterns of each man’s breathing. She turned to where the wolf was and could just make out the flat reflections of its eyes.

Reaching into her coat, she pulled out some wheat kernels and offered them to the animal.

Aware of the danger mere meters from where they sat, the wolf accepted the food in a slow, silent manner, uncharacteristic of any dog she’d ever come across.

Rindul placed what was left of the kernels into her mouth and sucked on them until they were soft enough to chew.without making a sound.

Moments later, she felt the wolf nuzzle up against her arm before resting its head on her lap.

At first, she didn’t know what to do. Rindul had only seen stray dogs occasionally, but didn’t dare go near them. As for this creature being so near her, it had been...months since she’d touched any living thing for the sake of...comfort. For several minutes she didn’t move.

Eventually, feeling the wolf’s soft heartbeat, she relented.

With a gentle touch, the small girl placed her hand on the wolf’s head and petted it.

For reasons she couldn’t explain or understand, she smiled.

She tried to ignore the emotion, knowing she had to figure out how to escape the barn before thinking about anything else. Yet every time she ran her fingers through the matted, tangled fur, all she wanted to do was comfort the creature.

Instead of devising a plan, her thoughts unwillingly went to the first people she’d met. Rindul thought of those she cared about, those she’d traveled with, those who saved and later betrayed her. Of all her experiences with others from selfless to selfish, the betrayals were the ones she remembered most. They were the experiences she learned from, the ones that helped keep her alive.

Opening herself up to other emotions due to the wolf’s touch awakened something inside her. For the time being, her priorities were no longer centered around surviving. She still feared the men sleeping in the barn, but she found it easier to push it aside upon thinking of the wolf. Her thoughts were calm and collected now, Rindul felt a need to survive in order to protect.

Her perspective changed momentarily with the understanding between her and this wolf. In their short time together, they formed a unique bond only a shared experience could create. When she first saw the animal she expected it to growl and bark. She expected it to attack. When it didn’t, she expected it to run revealing her hiding place.

She wondered if the wolf had similar expectations of her.

Instead, they recognized each other as the hunted, willing to do what was needed in order to survive.

It reminded her In spite of the darkness that covered the world, there were still tiny bits of light and hope in existence.

Just because she hadn’t met any people like her yet, didn’t mean they weren’t out there. She would never know if she didn’t allow herself to feel.

She smiled again as she pet the wolf, a small part of her wanting to hug the animal.

Without realizing it, she drifted off to sleep.

Rindul was startled awake upon hearing men moving equipment aside, searching for possible hidden caches hidden inside the barn. She looked around the cramped confines of the trash pile for another exit, but found nothing.

“Give me a hand with this, it’s all tangled,” the walls of junk around her shifted.

Rindul searched her pockets for something she could use as a weapon, but she knew nothing would help her against nine men.

The wolf stood up and looked her directly in the eyes.

Rindul shook her head. She knew what the animal was going to do without having to communicate with it. The last words of her father echoed in her mind:

Survive.

Just as she reached out to hold the animal, the wolf darted out of the hole, exiting the junk heap.

Outside the men let out a startled shout. A moment later one yelled, “GET IT! WE CAN EAT IT!”

Seconds later, the barn was silent.

Wiping tears from her eyes, Rindul suppressed the pain beginning to constrict her chest. Determined not to waste the sacrifice made for her, she quickly made her way out from under the garbage and sprinted away from the old barn.