I would have loved such a family.
Is this what I’m taking away from Ann?
I try not to think about it. I’ll make her happy—I know I can.
Sometimes she pauses and stares up at the trees, and I know she thinks it’s beautiful. It gives me hope that I can make her happy. I have to make her happy. I don’t want to be without her.
We make good time. We stay overnight on another island. I bend her over and fuck her after she’s good and ready, which means begging. I decide to only fuck her if she begs me. She seems to like that best.
We share the sleeping bag. I want to be near her, but I also need to know if she gets up.
The next morning, we push off the shore, under the shadow of towering rocks. She sits on the seat in front of me, facing forward—away from me. She seems to want her own space at times.
I allow it.
She won’t jump out because of the icy water—I’m sure she had more than enough of swimming out here, and the water is even colder now, being that we’re getting farther north.
I imagine her paddling around on her own someday and coming back to me—not because she can’t survive or doesn’t know her way home, but because she wants to be by my side. It’s a dangerous thought, yet I can’t help but have it. I want so badly to trust her, to think she’s my partner, my ally, my pack, like when we were back at the institute.
Back then she felt like a true ally. A true friend. So much more.
I paddle us forward, under soaring rocks and trees. With the current behind us, it feels like we’re flying.
Three days until we get there. On my own I could make it in two.
My heart pounds when I think about seeing my pack again. They’re not the original ones I met: they’re more. These are the wolves I grew up with. I describe each one to Ann and tell her their names. I tell her exactly how they’ll greet me in exactly what order.
First Red will leap on me, nip at me. My closest friend, like a brother. Pack leader by the time I left. I’ll grab his scruff, gray and black, a slash of reddish fur along his back. And Snowy. Wild and playful. She’ll come next.
I tell Ann about the different things they do. Like snapping—they’re not trying to bite you; it’s just about making that sound with their teeth to warn you off. Or when they bow, chin near the ground, eyes up. It means they want to play.
Red and Snowy and I were a unit in the pack. They stayed with me when I was injured and couldn’t move. They slept with me and protected me from unfriendly wolves. They only ran when the campers came with guns. My heart pounds to think of seeing them again.
Now and then I hear other wolves howling. Not mine—we’re deep into another pack’s area. But soon. Every smell feels like home. Like family.
I can almost feel Red’s rough scruff in my fingers, the cool wetness of his nose.
They’ll accept Ann if she’s with me. I’ll keep a close watch until I know things are right.
“Wait,” she says. “Where’s that keychain? Wait.” She pulls it out of the pack and examines it. “This is like your friend. Red. The reddish back. Is that why you like it? Because it looks like him?”
“Yeah. But I don’t need that thing anymore.”
She beams at me. “You’re going home to your family. You so can’t wait to see them.”
“I so can’t wait,” I say.
She smiles. She smiles when I say things the way she does.
She wears her brown hair in a braid, exposing her pale neck. I think she’s more beautiful than anything out here. More beautiful and still more painful.
She could have died so easily. She would only have had to swallow one wasp.
She’s paying attention to her surroundings, memorizing the way back. I hate that she’s doing it.
“Until you’re really used to this wilderness, all the trees and rocks look the same.”
“We’ll see.”