Page 7 of Banished From the Pack

“What does that mean?” I ask again, completely lost by this talk of bubbles and fate and rightful places.

Ama tugs at my arm. “Forget it. Let’s go. We need to get you cleaned up, so you look less like a bog hag and more like what Axel wants to see. Although…” Her mouth turns up at the corners in a secretive smile.

I don’t like that smile. I pull my skinny frame as tall as I can, though I’m still no taller than her. “I’m not a bog hag,” I say loudly. “I’m a lone wolf, and I’m proud of my heritage.”

“You shouldn’t be,” Ama says. “Lone wolves are fools.”

I step onto the coarse surface of the road. “What is this stuff?” I ask, crouching to run my fingertips across the textured surface. It feels hot, the way rocks heat in the midday sun. I always thought it was stone, but it doesn’t feel like any stones I ever felt.

A loud, blaring sound fills the air, startling me. I look up to see one of the beastly cars rocketing in my direction. Mama told me people ride in them, but this one is roaring like an animal.

I leap out of the road, my heart pounding, just as it whooshes by so fast it makes its own wind—a stinky wind I’ve smelled in the swamp from time to time when the wind blew just right.

“Christ, you’re stupid,” Ama snaps. “You almost got yourself killed. Quick reflexes, though.” She looks me over the way Mama did last time she was thinking about going to town to get me clothes, a look like she hadn’t really seen me in a while.

Ama grabs my wrist in a fierce grip. “This,” she says, sweeping her free arm before her, “is a road, also known as a street. It’s made of concrete or asphalt. And those things are cars. You never get in front of one when they’re moving. Got it? And that, over there…” She points to a group of structures. “That’s the shopping mall where we’re going to get you cleaned up and buy you some new clothes. No way can I take you to Axel looking like that.”

I look down at my nearly naked body, covered with dirt and mud from the swamp and a few old rags of the same color. Before we left, I wound a few rags and Spanish moss around my hips and breasts, the way Mama had taught me to do. “What’s wrong with the way I look?”

“You’re dirty, smelly, and you look like a wild thing. Axel expects something a bit more… Civilized.” Ama sneers, towing me along.

I frown. “Why does this Axel man care what I look like?”

“You’ll see.” Ama drags me away from the road and heads for the buildings. They’re massive and look way more sound than the little house I built. I wonder how they got their stones cut into such precise shapes. I could have built a stronger house with rocks like that.

Ama gestures toward the buildings marked by a sign that says, Paradise Acres. Around it, a few cars sit unmoving in the places that aren’t marred by long cracks and gaping holes in the ground, which is covered with the same stuff as the road.

“What happened here?” I ask, pointing to one of the holes filled with dirty water. “And why are some of these houses falling to the ground?” I gesture toward a pile of wood and metal a ways off through the weeds.

“They’re not houses. They’re stores. And shit happened. While you’ve been shacking up in oblivion in the swamp, the rest of the world has been dealing with the effects of the natural disasters. Winds, rain, hurricanes, storms… You name it.”

“That stuff happens in the swamp, too,” I say, feeling defensive at her nasty tone.

She snorts. “And I’m sure your little hovel has been knocked down at time or two. Some people have simply given up on repairing something that’ll only be destroyed again and gotten the hell out of dodge. Others have built more substantive buildings that can withstand the storms.” She points toward a formidable building that looks like it was made of the same stuff as the streets. The words Lew’s Bossy Beauties are painted onto the concrete.

“Why do you need all these buildings if you don’t live in them?”

“You’re literally dumber than a rock,” Ama says. “We choose to live in the real world. The real world has stores.”

“I’ve never been to a store,” I say, feeling a little tendril of excitement growing inside me.

“Shocking,” Ama says. “Seeing as how you’re basically a bog hag who knows nothing except how to wrestle alligators and catch fish. Now stop asking so many questions. You’re making my head hurt.”

Despite her nastiness, I let the first smile I’ve felt all day form on my face. Things are bad, but that doesn’t mean there’s not good in the world. Mama never let me come to town, even when she went to get supplies every few seasons. She said it wasn’t safe. But I don’t feel scared today. The cars are a little intimidating, but they seem to follow predictable patterns when I watch them on the road, and I think I can escape them if I stay out of their way, like Ama said.

I’m too busy marveling at all the newness around me to be very scared. Ama swings open the door of the concrete structure, and we enter. Inside the store, a tall, midnight-skinned man grins at us. He reminds me of the panthers that move through the swamps under the cover of night.

“Friends,” he says, holding out his arms. “Is this the woman you told me about, Ama? The one we’ll be grooming for the Alpha?”

Colorful clothes surround us, hanging from metal tubes, while light streams from glass balls in the ceiling.

My mind swims with all these new sights to take in Half of me longs to head back to the swamp and huddle in our cozy tin house, and the other half wants to touch everything, see if the yellow dresses feel like sunshine and the blue like sky.

The male saunters toward us. I sidle backward, away from him, baring my teeth. I’ve never spoken to a man before, but Mama told me they are to be feared. This one inches closer and seizes my chin, turning my face from side to side. “Exquisite. Beautiful cheekbones. I think we can do a lot with her.”

I snap my teeth at his hand, but he yanks his arm back before my teeth connect. I wrench my face away, glowering at him and trying to back away. Ama gives me a little shove forward, back in his direction. “Don’t touch me,” I warn, fisting my hands, ready to return to my wolfskin if he tries to attack.

Ama snorts. “See what I mean? I’m telling you, Axel got swindled by that old diviner. This must be some sort of joke because this chick can’t be anyone’s mate. She probably couldn’t find her way around a dick if you drew her a map.”