Alpha Girl (27 page)

Saturday – 29 days to go

I groaned and rolled over, searching for my pillow. My fingers met only leaves. I curled into the fetal position and wondered where my blanket was; I was freezing.

The memory of the previous night came flooding back, and I couldn’t help but grin in my sleepy state.

I was happy.

I had made love to the man of my dreams, and he had told me those three magic words.
I love you.
  He loved me.
Me
.

Excitement erupted in my stomach from the memory.

I opened my eyes and was greeted by the bleary winter sun, which shone weakly through the canopy. I stretched luxuriously, my hands seeking Mr. Stone.

‘I feel amazing,’ I murmured, arching my back and hearing it crack and pop. He didn’t reply. Perhaps he was still asleep.

I sat up and looked around for him.

Only forest.

I turned a full three-sixty degree to see where he was.

I was alone.

‘Tom?’ I called, sending birds flying into the sky from fright.

I listened carefully for any sound, but all I could hear was nature; birds chirping, the whistles of wind through the trees, and a frog somewhere.

I shivered. I was deathly cold, and my fingertips looked quite blue. I hadn’t anticipated on waking up alone.

At least this time I was not covered in as much dirt and grime. It hadn’t rained for a few days, so there was less mud around.

I needed to warm myself up until Mr. Stone returned, so I got up and tried jogging on the spot, but stopped quickly as it felt absurd while nude.

I needed clothes otherwise I would freeze.

Mr. Stone had told me how to find the car in the event that we were separated, but I hadn’t paid much attention.

I walked in the general direction I thought was correct, hoping I’d reach the car within an hour. Any longer and my toes would fall off.

I turned around, thinking maybe I should head back; but I didn’t know which way back was.

Shit
.

‘Tom?’ I called again, winding my way through the trees. ‘TOM!’

I tripped over a protruding tree root and fell to my knees, grazing them on a cluster of rocks. I broke my fall with the heel of my hands, which I also got cut up on the debris.

‘Shit,’ I muttered, getting back to my feet.

‘Hello?’ I heard a male voice calling through the trees.

‘Tom?’ I called, hurrying forwards, ignoring my bleeding knees.

It wasn’t Mr. Stone at all; it was a male camper who looked to be in his mid-twenties. He appeared amidst the trees, his eyes wide.

‘Fucking hell,’ he blurted upon seeing me. ‘Shit. Are you okay?’

I immediately jumped behind a tree, hiding from sight.

‘Jessica!’ the unknown male shouted over his shoulder. ‘Quick! Come here! Brink a blanket!’

I heard footsteps, and crunching leaves.

‘What’s the matter?’ asked a female voice.

‘There’s a girl over there. She’s hurt, and naked.’

‘Naked? Are you serious?’

‘It’s all right!’ he called to me. ‘We’ve got something for you to cover yourself with.’

I poked my head out and saw a chubby red head girl carrying a blanket.

‘Oh my god!’ she breathed. ‘You poor dear, you must be freezing!’

I nodded fervently.

‘It’s all right,’ she said, approaching me as if I might bite. ‘We won’t hurt you.’ 

I wasn’t worried about that; I was just embarrassed about being found completely nude in the forest. This couple must be camping, though I’d thought that Mr. Stone had taken us clear of any camping sites.

The red head girl handed me the blanket, shielding her eyes from my nakedness. I wrapped it around myself and stepped out from behind the tree.

‘What’s your name?’ she asked at once.

‘R-Rose,’ I shivered.

‘I’m Jessica,’ said the red head. ‘And this is my husband, Peter.’

‘Hi … thanks for the blanket,’ I said, clutching it tightly.

‘Come with us, you poor dear. We’ll warm you up.’

I followed Jessica and Peter to their campsite, which was only a few yards away. They had a small three-man tent set up in a clearing, and a burnt out campfire in the middle.

‘Here, dear. Sit inside the tent and I’ll make you a cup of tea. You’re probably chilled to the bone.’

‘I’ll get it all dirty,’ I said, looking down at my feet.

‘Don’t mind that,’ she waved a hand before ushering me into the tent.

It was nice and cozy inside. I curled up in a corner with the blanket wrapped around myself.

But how would Mr. Stone find me in here?

I could hear the couple talking in urgent whispers outside. What did they think had happened to me? They probably thought I’d been attacked.

A minute later, and Jessica ducked into the tent carrying a cup of tea in a plastic picnic mug.

‘Thank you,’ I said, taking it. My fingers were almost blue.

She began to rummage for a first-aid pack amidst her bag of clothes.

‘I think I’ve got some saline wipes here – ah! There we go.’ She pulled out a pack of wipes. ‘I’m dreadfully clumsy, so I take a first aid kit with me whenever we go camping. You know, it keeps the marriage alive to have a bit of adventure. I must admit though, we’ve never run into anything like this before. And I could tell you some stories. Bears, and wolves, and what not.’

I smiled politely and reached out a hand to take the wipes, but she shook her head.

‘Give me your legs so I can clean you up,’ she said.

I stared at her. ‘What? You don’t need to-’

‘Don’t be silly,’ she said at once, grabbing my ankle and stretching my leg out.

Jessica began to wipe the blood and dirt from my grazed knees. I’d never met anyone so kind in my life – apart from Mr. Stone. At that moment, Peter ducked into the tent, a tender expression on his face.

‘Are you all right?’ he asked me.

‘Yes, I think so,’ I said, clutching the hot mug
like it was precious gold.

‘Rose, is it?’ he asked, crouching and watching me
as if I might shatter like glass.

I nodded. ‘Thanks for the blanket … and the tea … and cleaning my knees.’

‘She’s in shock,’ Jessica said to her husband.

‘No, I’m fine, really,’ I said.

‘I’m just glad we found you,’ said Peter. ‘Can you tell me who did this to you?’

‘Erm … no, no one did this to me.’

The couple looked at each other darkly.

‘What’s the last thing you remember, dear?’

My stomach writhed with excitement at my last memory; the sight of Mr. Stone above me, his eyes yellow, and his form changing – of course, I couldn’t tell anyone about that.

‘I – I don’t know,’ I lied.

‘Try to remember, Rose. Were you with anyone?’

What was I supposed to tell them? The truth would make me sound crazy.

‘I came to the forest last night,’ I said slowly. ‘Alone. I, um … got lost and passed out.’

I could see from the look in their eyes that they didn’t believe me. Who would? What seventeen-year-old girl goes wandering into a dangerous forest, naked no less, at temperatures like this?

‘Alone?’ Jessica repeated. ‘You don’t remember being with anyone?’

Perhaps feigning amnesia would get me out of lying.

‘I don’t remember.’ It was partially true; I could never remember the time I spent under the transformation.

I suddenly realized how close Jessica and Peter had come to meeting a werewolf last night. I’d only been passed out half a mile from their campsite.

‘How old are you, Rose?’ asked Peter.

‘Seventeen,’ I said.

‘Why were you naked?’

‘I don’t remember,’ I said again. ‘Look, um … I really appreciate what you’ve done, but can you tell me which way the highway is?’

‘Give us a minute, would you sweetheart?’ Jessica said to Peter, who dipped out of the tent at her request.

‘Rose, you need to try and remember what happened to you. We think – well … you need to consider the possibility that you were attacked.’

‘Attacked? No, I’m fine. These grazes are from when I fell over.’

‘And the bruises on your body?’ Jessica asked, pointing.

‘Huh?’ I looked to where Jessica pointed.

Dark purple rings were around my wrists, where Mr. Stone had clutched me. Jessica also pointed to my neck, where I knew many love-bites would be.

‘Rose, we think you’ve been sexually assaulted,’ said Jessica carefully. ‘We need to take you to the hospital and call the police.’

I laughed. ‘No, no. It’s nothing like that. I haven’t been abused.’

‘You’re covered in cuts, bruises, blood and dirt, and you have no recollection of the previous night-’

I needed to think of a lie, and quick. ‘No … look, I didn’t want to say anything, but I, um, I was really intoxicated last night. I wandered away from a party and got lost in the woods. That’s all.’ Would the drunken teenager story work?

‘Look, Peter has already radioed the Ranger and given him our co-ordinates. They’ll be here in a few minutes to help you. We’re not that far from the highway.’

‘What?’ I said. ‘No! I just need you to show me which way the road is, and I’ll be fine.’

Two hours later and I was sitting on a bed at Halfway Hospital, dressed in nothing but a gown. They wouldn’t let me wash, or get dressed until they had performed numerous tests on me, which I refused to let them do. The Ranger had brought me here against my will, and the police had called my parents, who brought some fresh clothes for me.

Apparently my mother and father had called the police the night before when they realized I wouldn’t be home for the ‘episode’. Of course, they didn’t tell the officers what I was, they only hoped I’d be found before nightfall.

My parents wanted to take me home at once, but the hospital staff were under the impression that I’d been abused, due to the bruises around my wrists, and neck. They didn’t need to know the marks had been caused during the passion I shared with my thirty-two year old teacher, who, by the way, I hadn’t heard from all morning.

The nurses asked me a lot of questions, and took some of my blood and saliva for testing. I stuck to my story of being alone and lost in the woods, parroting the phrase ‘I don’t remember’ whenever awkward questions came up.

My parents were anxious too, but did not decline to have these swabs and tests taken, for fear the hospital staff would question their parenting skills. After all, what parent would kick up a fuss about it?

They knew what had happened to me – well, most of it, anyway. They knew why I was in the forest, and covered in dirt.

What they didn’t understand, however, were where the bruises had come from.

‘We can see numerous bruises on her wrists, and mouth-marks on her neck,’ the doctor explained to my parents.

‘Mouth-marks?’ my mother repeated, caught off guard.