I get grounded for a million years. No parole. No time off for good behavior. Dad grumbled that I’d be lucky to even touch an iPhone next Christmas, much less get a new one.

Can’t really blame the guy. He caught me last night sneaking back into the house at 10:00 pm, wearing boy stuff. Justin has bags of spare clothes stashed all over the city in case he rips his when he turns. Pretty smart. Too bad wearing oversized Levis and a t-shirt wasn’t a good look. I made up some lame story about hanging out with some friends at the park and falling in some mud—having to borrow a brother’s clothes. Blah. Blah. Blah. Sheriff Dad eyed me all suspicious like. It was his job to sniff out lies. Like I said, I can’t blame the guy for locking me up.

So I spend the rest of the weekend in my room, reading manga in bed with Bizbee rolled up by my feet. Honestly, it feels like heaven.

Since the Sunflower Troop hasn’t com back early, I guess Emily and Sarah didn’t say anything about their wolf encounter. Probably thought no one would believe them.

It’s 6:00 pm before my new-and-improved ears pick up the sound of Mom’s jeep rumbling up the street. Part of me wants to sprint to the front door to wait for them. But that would look weird, so I wait in my room, pretending to re-read Chainsaw Man #6. When the front door finally squeals open, Bizbee jumps off my bed and rushes to greet them. Lots of tail wagging and sniffing going on.

Mom and Dad mumble to each other. They’re trying to talk low, but I hear every word. It’s all about me, and it’s not good.

Mom passes by my room, gripping her backpack. She gives me a tired, sad look.

“I’m disappointed by the decisions you’ve been making lately.” A very mom thing to say.

I look down at my bare feet, trying to put on a sad face. But I can’t help but smile. I’m so glad she’s alive to be disappointed in me.

“Sorry mom.”

“We’re going to have a conversation about what went on with you this weekend, but right now I’m too damn exhausted. So, it’ll have to wait until morning.

I know mom is serious because she never uses the word damn, at least not to us girls. I want to leap off the bed and tackle her with a hug. But I resist the urge. We’ve already had one awkward hug moment recently, and I don’t want to make her any more suspicious than she already is. So instead, I tell mom that I love her.

“Love you too, Kat,” mom says, but there is a sigh to her voice. She shuffles off to the laundry room with her backpack full of camp clothes. The whole pack has that smokey campfire scent. I can still smell it when she’s on the other side of the house, dumping her jeans, T-shirts, and socks into the washing machine.

I can smell the smoke on Emily too. She has already taken off her sneakers and pads down the hall in dirty socks, towards my room.

If you find this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the infringement.

“Hey Em!” My voice is way too cheerful for a kid who just got grounded. Why did I say it like that?

Emily just hangs in the doorway of my room, unable to look me in the eye. “Kat…,” she says, staring down at her socks. “I… I…”

She doesn’t know what to say. It’s all too much, and I get it. What’s there to say when your sister has werewolf powers? So instead, Emily dashes into my room and hugs the stuffing out of me. Without a doubt, it’s the longest, fiercest hug we’ve ever had. Eventually, she slips free and wanders out of my room. Her voice reaches me from the hallway.

“You better not have farted on my hairbrushes.”

***

My eyes snap open in the middle of the night. Right away, I notice my stuffed kangaroo is sitting slumped on a bookshelf instead of cuddling with me in bed. I must’ve forgotten to grab her before falling asleep. Which is strange, because I never forget Miss Hoppy.

But the missing kangaroo isn’t what woke me up. I heard something. No, that isn’t right. I sensed something.

My heart speeds up and I spring out of bed. After everything I’ve been through, I expect to see a pack of snarling wolves in my room. But there’s only my pup, Bizbee. She must have sensed the same thing I had, because Biz is already at my window, pushing aside the curtain with that wet nose of hers.

“What is it girl?”

Something outside. It’s the first time I’ve heard “speak” to me since the bacon incident. That time, I totally freaked out. This time I find her voice strangely comforting. Bizbee isn’t growling and her fur isn’t all up and spikey, so I’m guessing there’s no danger nearby. I slide up beside her and peek out the curtains.

A figure stands out beyond the yard, right at the edge of the tree line. My heart stops cold and my breath catches in my chest. For a moment, I believe I’m somehow seeing Killer Paw, back from the dead to stalk me again. Then I realize it’s Justin and I breathe easy again. Justin waves to me, but doesn’t come to my window.

He wants to make sure I see him.

A smile tugs at the corners of my lips. I wave back and watch him silently slip into the trees, swallowed up by the dark woods.

I never asked to be a werewolf. Never asked for the fur and pain and gnawing meat cravings. My life would be a whole lot simpler if I’d never turned. So many questions bounce around my head. What will I do next time there’s a full moon? Will I stay young forever like Justin? Can I ever break the curse? I don’t know the answers. But having a friend out there, watching me almost makes up for all the chaos and fear.

Later, that thought lingers in my brain as I drift off to sleep, my dog curled up at the foot of my warm bed.

***

WARNING! COLLAPSED MINE!

Rangers from the forest service had posted the sign then blocked off the area with yellow caution tape. To be honest, they thought this entrance had been sealed up years ago. An engineer from Flagstaff was coming out in a few weeks to make sure the ground was stable. Until then, the yellow tape would have to do.

But nature had other ideas. A gust of wind had broken the tape, and now it flapped in the midnight breeze like a long birthday streamer.

Beneath the streamer, a weak tremor shakes the ground. So weak that even if there were witnesses to the event, they probably wouldn’t notice it happening. Likely, they wouldn’t notice the shifting rocks either. Slowly at first, then faster, until stones tumble down the slope of the collapsed mine, colliding into each other with a “Clack… Clack… Clack…”

Then, with an eruption of dirt, a hand appears. It bursts out of the ground, fingers clawing at the air as if it were a mortal enemy. Another hand breaks free of the ground and together they scratch and dig until the earth opens up and a man scrambles free.

No, not a man. A teenager, covered from head to bare feet in dirt.

Killer Paw brushes his dust covered hair out of his face. His bones crack as he stands tall and arches his back. The night is moonless, but he howls anyway.

THE END?