SKY POV.
My naked feet rhythmically tap on the dusty dashboard in front of me, synchronized with the Seven songs blaring from the stereo. My mother cannot contain her joyous expression as she bobs her head and drums on the steering wheel. I turn around to observe my brother Owen, who is energetically pretending to play the guitar behind me. As the chorus looms, we all take a deep breath together.
Suddenly, the truck slams into us.
In an instant, we were lifted off the ground... Owen’s screaming… And my mom’s crying..
My eyes are closed with an immense amount of force. I slowly blink my eyes, then rapidly to eliminate the dirt and smoke. I strive to sit up, but it eludes me. My body seems to be undergoing a self-healing process. Blue's whimpering is audible to me, but it's weak within me, an unusual occurrence considering I require her help now more than ever.
‘Blue, I need your help. Lora and Phila. Where are they? Are they okay? You need to track them down. Find them.’ She growls loudly within me, so loud, in fact, it almost comes out.
She is indeed correct. My body has only partially healed, but it's adequate for me to be able to sit up. I examine the wreckage closely, but there is no indication of anything. I put my nose high in the air and try with all of my ability to pick up their scent, but I can’t find it. I strain to hear, and my ears pick up the faint sound of something moving just a few feet away. It’s coming from our car that doesn’t even look like a car anymore.
“Mom!? Owen!?” I shout out.
“Sky?” I heard Owen’s voice respond. “Sky, I can’t move.”
“It’s going to be okay.” I yell back. “Where are you?”
“Sky, I can’t move my legs. The metallic object feels heavy and unwieldy on top of my body. They struggled, but the weight pinning them down was too much to bear. I can’t heal myself!” I can hear the panic in his voice, in addition to smelling his fear.
I hear a rustling sound from within the car, and then I see her long, golden hair cascading down her back.
“Mom!” I cry out. “Mom?”
Her hair doesn’t move again. Blue let out a mournful howl before disappearing from sight. A small whimper escaped my lips as I squeezed my eyes shut, feeling a solitary tear trickle down my cheek.
“Sky?” Owen calls out. “Where’s mom? Why isn’t she answering?”
I struggled to find the words, my mind consumed with uncertainty. The thought is so abhorrent that I cannot bear it. It can’t be true. I yell her name again, but nothing.
“Sky?” His fear has only increased.
I fill my lungs with air and unveil my eyes. “Owen, I need you to try to sit up for me.”
“I can’t. I'm lying face down.”
“Okay. I’m going to get to you.” I fold my legs underneath of myself and place my hands firmly on the ground. “You’re on the other side of the car?”
“Yes.” He calls out.
I can feel him easing up, but the metallic scent of blood fills my nostrils, and my anxiety intensifies.
“Sky, where’s mom?”
“I’m on my way, Owen. Don’t worry.” I crawl on all fours, cutting my knees and hands on bits of broken glass, to get to him. I pretend not to hear his question about mom and instead delve into a different subject. I wish I could shake the feeling that my thoughts might be true. It can’t be true.
“I’m almost there Owen.”
Having circled the car, I catch sight of his flushed face. He is marked with a cut on his cheek and his hair is strewn with pieces of glass from the broken window. The door, which was supposed to provide protection from the elements, was now pressing him down onto the ground.
“Hi Owen.”
“Hi Sky.” He attempts a grin.
Looking closer, I noticed that his body was completely trapped beneath the door, and to start healing, I needed to lift it off him.
“Okay, it’s all going to be okay. I’m going to move the door off of you so you can start healing.”
As soon as he nods, I drop to my hands and knees and begin to crawl.
As I approach the place where I think his feet would be, I’m closer to mom’s door. It's clear that the impact was severe - the windshield is shattered, and the airbag is deflated, but she's still alive. She still hasn’t moved and I’ve noticed that the smell of blood has gotten stronger. I sit on my legs, feeling the roughness of the ground beneath me, and take a deep breath to clear my mind.
“Sky?”
“Yeah, Owen?”
“Do you want me to count to three?” He asks sincerely. Ever since we were very little, and we had to do something scary, we would hold hands and the other would count to three. Despite my efforts to hold them back, tears streamed down my face, and I wiped them away as quickly as I could.
“Yes, please.” I nod, even though he can’t see me.
He counts out loud and as he says three; I lift the heavy door off of him and push it so that it lies on the other side of him. I carefully roll him over so that he’s laying on his back so that his bones will reset in their proper place.
As he heals himself, I inch a little closer to the front of the car to get a better look at mom’s injuries so we can help her. By now, she would have synchronized her mind with the rest of the pack.
Someone, or many someone’s, should be on their way to help us right now. But as I get closer, I have to stop myself from looking. The smell of blood is so strong and her lifeless body in the front seat solidifies my worst fear. I look back at Owen with tears in my eyes, and he knows. He must have detected my emotions, as his eyes have begun to well up with tears.
“Mom’s okay, right Sky?” He whispers.
“She’s okay.” I lie.
I don’t know how or when, but she had to have gotten through to someone because just as Owen finally sits up, I can hear the pack. A stampede of howling wolves of all colors and sizes comes storming out of the woods, my father in the lead. Some of them shift back and approach the wreck. The women's sobs and the wolves' mournful howls fill my ears, but my eyes remain locked on my father.
He’s shifted back and he just stands in front of our demolished car wearing nothing but the small mark my mother had given him when they were teenagers. But the mark is different now. It’s fading right before my eyes. My father’s face is the same. Hard and cold, like it’s been my entire life. But there was a distinct feeling that something was amiss. His eyes dart around frantically, searching for something.
He's like a statue, not moving a muscle.
He refrains from speaking.
He doesn't take the time to look for Owen or myself.
He remains motionless, fixating his gaze upon her.
My Uncle Morison coughed out a sob before spotting Owen and I. Right after he sees us, my father’s eyes dart over to us and his pained expression is gone and he’s back to his normal stoic self. He retreats back to the pack without looking back at mother, without looking back at us.
I see Uncle Morison nod before he runs towards us, avoiding all the debris.
“Hey kiddo.” He smiles as he ruffles Owen’s hair, knocking some of the glass out. “How is everything? Is anything broken?”
“Everything’s fine.” I blurt out, annoyed, before Pete has the chance
to answer. My facial expression is unchanging, causing Uncle Morison's empathy to shift to anxiety.
