Read Online The Wolf Road by Beth Lewis - Free Book Online Page B

taught me that I didn’t see as true back then?

    Felt a tear on my cheek. A tear for all those times, wrecked and ruined now. A tear for Missy and all them other people he’d taken the knife to. I had fear for him when I saw him that first time, running after seven-year-old me, but that went quick. Missy and them other women and that kid he killed, they must a’ had fear for him right till they died. Couldn’t imagine knowing your death’s coming at the hands of a real beast. That bear could a’ killed me, true, but a bear don’t have no malice in his heart. A man like Kreagar, well, seems that’s all he got.
    I left them tears right where they was and climbed down the tree. I stepped quiet and slow to the edge of the clearing. All moonlight and floating motes and midges. Little piece of beauty in a world gone to shit. Sky was quiet, no storms threatening to tear it all up though this wood was full a’ felled trees and split trunks what said the thunderhead don’t spare it. Moonlight edged the top of the ridge in silver. That ridge marked the true end of the Mussa and my second life. Right then I didn’t care I hadn’t eaten and didn’t have no water, I just wanted out a’ that valley.
    I got to the top of the ridge at sunrise.
    The world stretched out ’neath me, ripe and ready and all mine. Land was flat and dry, grass and prairie ’stead of trees and ferns. This prairie weren’t like none I’d seen on my trips south. This was hard land, grass was pale brown ’stead a’ the green it should a’ been this time a’ year. Seen this in some a’ the places hit by the Damn Stupid. Trapper said poison leaked out a’ some a’ them bombs and seeded the land, turned it all to scrabble and scratch and sucked out all the goodness. Weren’t like this was dead land, but it weren’t happy and didn’t give up its fruits easy no more. Had a fear that the more north I went, the more a’ this unhappy land I’d see. The Damn Stupid had turned forest to mud and mountains to rubble and put ice in the hearts a’ those what lived through it, and there weren’t no place hit worse than the North.

    Line of mountains, high and ragged, dusted with snow ran crossways straight ahead, bigger’n any hill, any ridge, I’d ever seen. My true momma and daddy were waiting beyond those mountains, living it up, surrounded by coin and salt beef. A piece a’ that soon to be mine.
    I quick found north and spied, lit up by the new dawn, a line of smoke trailing up to the sky. Sat out a little ways west, far across the brush and close to a copse of pine, was a sprawling homestead. Herd of cattle penned up, few horses maybe and one a’ them veranda porches ringing the house. Looked like whoever made a life in that place made it well and bountiful. Maybe they’d have a mouthful or two and a cup a’ water to share. What set my head firmer was the thought that my parents might a’ passed up this way. The big north road weren’t far from the homestead, and I figured all them years ago they might at least a’ stopped for directions.
    The ridge sloped nice and easy down to the flat and I kept that smoke in eye-line. It went out a’ my way, few miles west, but the promise of a good meal and warm fire, maybe news a’ my folks, was worth it.

Men got a lot more rules for living than the forest. Some of them are simple and most folk stick to ’em without question: no killing, no stealing, and the like. Then they got the strange ones. No talking while chewing on food. No hunting a deer on someone else’s land, though hell, I broke that one more’n once. There’s a rule for meeting new folks too. No sneaking. Come up on their door like a friend coming for tea and wisdom. Show your weapons open, don’t go hiding. Though I broke that one too and made sure to tuck my knife ’neath my coat. Rules is one thing, but if I don’t follow ’em I can’t trust no one else to neither.
    Wooden sign above the gate swung on one chain, struck