Chapter 127 - Inseparable

Trees stretched out in every direction without end. Trees and trees occasionally broken by rivers that carved through the landscape, between steep rocky embankments. Off in the distance there were hills and mountains that never seemed to grow any closer or recede in the distance, they were just there.

There were places of great beauty and serenity. Some distant voice in her head bid her to stay, to relax into the peaceful landscape, to take time to heal in the solitude. But the voice was so faint, it was like a single silver thread weaving through a tapestry of madness in her mind. So she stopped, for minutes, sometimes for hours, and then she pressed on toward some beacon that was calling her to move southward.

Anything that crossed her path was food. Rabbits, squirrels, the odd fat raccoon, a feral cat. She knew enough to leave the porcupine alone, but anything else was fair game. Now and then she came across some berries, but they weren’t ripe yet and left her stomach feeling raw and full of acid so that she burped it up, and it burned the back of her throat.

Sometimes she walked as a woman, more often she walked as a bear, if for no other reason than for the protection her fur afforded her against mosquitoes and biting flies. She was always in pain, always aware of something missing, although sometimes she couldn’t remember what that empty ache was. It was like a riddle.

Something lost that can never be found. Something broken that can never be fixed.

Something spilled… something red… her arms were held fast while she watched, helplessly, as blood spilled like a waterfall, the sound rushing through her head, deafening her to everything around her.

Kodi crossed roads, mostly dirt roads, now and then. A couple of times she followed the shoulder of a paved road while it ran in the direction her feet were taking her. She saw cars only twice, and they didn’t even slow down as they passed her. Seeing a black bear on the road wasn’t that notable for a Canadian driver. They were used to seeing moose and deer and bears frequently in their travels.

They might have hit the brakes if she’d been walking in her human form, naked, bleeding from bug bites that she couldn’t stop scratching, dirty and sweaty and smelling too ripe even for her own nose. She splashed into a shallow stream, but the water was like ice. It made her feet ache, and she waded out again without bathing.

Images flickered in and out of her mind, random memories, thoughts, ideas, all without context or meaning. A small slip of a woman with red-black hair. Knives bouncing off an invisible barrier and falling harmlessly to the ground. Twin wolves snarling and snapping at her, moving too fast for her to defend herself.

And her mate, her mate’s face, his hands, his voice, little snippets of time.

Good memories punctuated by bad, so much bad.

A girl like you is only good for one thing.

She was good with knives. Really good with knives. Or anything else she could throw. Axes were the second favorite, but they were a bit unwieldy to carry around. She had practiced and practiced until she could shave a man’s mustache with one calculated throw.

How many knives had she thrown? How many bodies had she pulled her blades out of when it was all over? They gave her low-profile jobs, the cheap ones. She collected the money, and Bruce…

Where’s the money, Bruce?

Don’t worry Baby, this time, it’s a sure thing.

And then there were the others. When the rage had come with blinding ferocity, the helplessness, the frustration, the never-ending pain, and they were just there, the wrong place, the wrong time when she lost control of her bear, and she killed.

She had killed, randomly, violently, without a motive. Death and destruction for its own sake. The werewolf called them innocents. No one was innocent! She hated them for living, for being alive when he was dead. They had no right! No right to go on laughing and smiling and scrolling on their dumb phones, not after…

Her own knives…

The werewolf… gods werewolves stink. That fresh, pretty girl, sitting by the window like she was good and sweet, but she stank, like a wet dog on a warm day.

And then she attacked, defending that man, that stupid man.

Why would she do that? Why? Why would a wolf bleed for that stupid man?

Because they were mates.

Mates…

When she tried to remember, it hurt. It hurt so badly. It hurt until she screamed. She saw a rocky formation, and scrambled up it, not caring when the sharp stones cut into her dirty skin, not caring about the thorns that cut into her knees and the palms of her hands. She reached the pinnacle, and looked down.

If I jump, will I die?

It was hard to die. She had tried and tried.

It wasn’t that high, not even two stories. It would break her and bruise her, it would make her bleed. But she wouldn’t die.

Her eyes lifted to the horizon. Far off in the distance, to the south, towers rose above the treetops. Like a castle from a fairy tale, with walls and turrets, looking pink and gray and hazy. Something inside her vibrated at the sight of it, like the place was calling to her.

Something is lost that is never found… maybe… the answer to the riddle was there.