Full Steam Ahead
1120 Words
“Go!” I shout at Apollo as I dig my heels into his sides. “Go, go, go!”
The poor thing didn’t need to be told twice, let alone three times. He saw the wolf, too, and it’s very clear from how fast he’s galloping that he hears it chasing us.
What the hell is a lone wolf doing prowling around the woods in upstate New York, anyway? Aren’t they supposed to be pack animals? Where are its friends?
I guess I shouldn’t complain that there aren’t more angry wolves chasing us.
I scan our surroundings carefully. The river the boy mentioned is on our left, though it’s way too wide to attempt a jump. Straight ahead and to our right, though, are just more woods. I sneak a peek behind me and cringe—the wolf is gaining on us.
I’m not sure how that’s possible, given that Apollo was once a fairly successful racehorse, but apparently it is.
There’s a bridge about a quarter-mile ahead. It looks pretty, damn old and rotted—not something I’d normally take my thirteen-hundred-pound horse over without testing it first—but I’m a little low on options here, and the density of the woods we’re currently in is slowing me down. I squint to make out the details of bridge better, and holler out with glee when I do; there’s a gap of missing wood in the bridge, about six feet wide.
We can clear six feet in our sleep. But a wolf?
Okay, granted, I don’t exactly know how far a wolf can jump. But I’m going to hope it’s less than six feet.
I steer Apollo left toward the bridge. As soon as he sees the gap, I feel the excitement gather up in him. This is how he’s always been with jumping: as soon as I point him at something, he shoots out of a cannon at it—full steam ahead.
Good, I think as I grab his mane and focus on the rhythm of his pounding hoofbeats. The faster you are, the less likely this wolf gets us.
The jump is effortless for both of us, as it always is. Apollo is just that athletically gifted, and I’ve been riding horses since shortly after I learned to walk; it’s the one thing that’s ever brought me peace in this confusing mess of a world.
It’s what happens during the jump that causes, well, a bit of confusion.
In a nutshell? The entire world shifts.
I’m not sure how else to describe it, really. One minute, I’m halfway across the Niagara River in the woods in upstate New York, and the next…
Well, I’m somewhere else entirely.
It’s not the woods themselves that changed; those look more or less the same, though perhaps a bit more green and a bit less dense. It’s everything else—the sky; the breeze; the temperature; even the noises around me. Instead of woodpeckers and blue jays, I hear the melodies of songbirds that are so sweet, I’m not sure they can possibly be real; instead of the cold, harsh winds of autumn in New England, I feel a pleasant, almost salty breeze like I’m near the tropics. And where the sun just sat in the sky…
Well, something green replaced it.
Even the sky itself looks green, though it’s a much paler, softer sea-green than the vibrant, intense color that reminds me all too much of the strange boy I encountered only a few, mere minutes ago.
What the hell is happening?
I’m still on Apollo; at least there’s that.
I whirl around in my saddle again, eager to find out whether the wolf made it over the gap in the bridge, too.
The bridge, I see with astonishment, is gone. As is the entire river I just jumped over.
The wolf’s still there, though.
And now he’s being chased… by a bear.
Okay, seriously, can I wake up now?
I squint at the two animals. Something’s different about the wolf. When it was chasing us, it was a mangy, gray, wiry-haired beast with black, rabid-looking eyes and bared teeth. Now, though, it’s sort of… elegant.
Its coat is thicker, healthier, and richer in color—a deep brown, with streaks of a lighter, sandier huge. It’s bigger—at least half the size of the bear chasing it—and instead of dark, rabid eyes, it has misty, blue-gray ones that look almost…
Well, almost human.
I shudder with confusion and start to turn back around in my saddle, but freeze when I see the bear dive onto the wolf, knocking it off its legs and onto its back. The shriek of the wolf sends chills down my spine—so pained and human that I can’t help but rein Apollo back to a stop.
What are you going to do, you dumb b***h? I hear Hunter taunt in my head, as if he were watching me. Fight off a bear to save the wolf who was just trying to kill you?
Well, apparently the answer is yes, because before I know it, I’m sliding out of my saddle and sprinting over to the two, predatory animals.
Maybe Hunter was right. Maybe I really am an i***t.
The wolf is a decent fighter, I note as I cautiously approach the brawl. It’s faster than the bear, and it seems to be smarter, too. But the bear is bigger, and it’s already sunk its teeth into the wolf’s hide once; I can see the trail of blood leaking out of the wolf's side. Another bite like that, and he's a goner.
I'm not sure why I think the wolf is a he, but I do.
I don’t plan on actually doing anything about it. I don’t kid myself into thinking there’s anything I can do; I have no weapons, I’ve left my horse a good twenty feet away from here, and despite working out every day, I’m not exactly fit enough to hold my own against two of nature’s strongest predators.
But when the bear dives at the wolf for final kill, I thrust my hands out, anyway.
And, when I do, the bear’s neck snaps.
My jaw drops as the creature crumples to the ground in front of the wolf, instantly dead. I stare down at my hands, horrified, sure that what I think just happened can’t possibly have happened. I misunderstood what I saw, right? The wolf killed the bear, and I hallucinated something different entirely.
Before I can make up my mind whether to pass out, cry, or run, the next unbelievable thing happens: the wolf in front of me turns into a man.
- Writer
