Uncontrollable (The Nature of Grace, Book 2) (7 page)

Madison pulls her nose from her book. “Wait. Did you say only 100? In more than thirty years? I thought it was more.”

The shadow of Katie speaks up from the back of the room. “Sad, isn’t it? There are only 100 in the wild, but we still have 200 healthy wolves in captivity.”

Porter continues on to the next slide. “Unfortunately, our roaming populations suffer more. It appears to be hard to keep them alive in the wild due to many factors.”

He flips through a few pictures showing dead wolves, one on the road obviously hit by a car, and another clearly shot. I notice Madison cringe as Skyler covers her eyes, looking through the slits between her fingers. “The top two causes of red wolf losses are either gunshots or disappearances. And to be frank, those are what keep the red wolf from making a solid comeback here. Of the first group released, the Red Wolf Recovery Program lost radio contact with six wolves, four males and two females, all from the same pack. A devastating loss.”

I think for a second about the information he’s dumped on us, and a question pops into my head. “When you say ‘lost radio contact,’ do you mean hunters killed them and then hid them? Or that you just can’t find them?”

From the side, Agent Sweeney looks back at me and adjusts his hat. He nods slowly as if he approves of my question. What’s with all the nodding today?

Porter shrugs and pops his suspenders. “We don’t exactly know. Maybe hunters mistake them for coyotes and shoot them, and they panic because these animals are still designated as endangered. So they hide them. Or maybe our tracking systems have failed in some way. Or it could be the wolves died of natural causes, and we just didn’t find out where. This is what we hope to uncover. Whatever it is, these deaths take a toll on the population as well as the success of the breeding program as a whole. Many packs and pairs are affected by these deaths.”

Porter pauses and flips through a few more photos. “For this project, we will be observing two different packs and documenting their behaviors: feeding, mating, and hunting.”

Skyler passes along a red wolf pamphlet that was handed out at the start of the session. “Do they bite?”

Seth laughs out loud, only it’s more of a snort mixed with a howl. “Noooo, Skyler. They’ll just lick you to death. They’re
wolves
. What do you think?”

Wyn immediately comes to Skyler’s defense, like the noble guy he’s always been. All mouth and no trousers. “Hey, chill out, Seth. She was just asking.”

“Whatever, lover boy,” Seth says. “It was a dumb question.”

Wyn stands. “You want to say that to my face?”

Seth looks confused. “I just did.”

Madison interrupts in a sweet voice. “I don’t think it’s a dumb question. On average, animal attacks account for more than 100 human deaths per year. Of course, that includes pet bites and bee stings.”

Seth snaps at her, “Shut up, Madison. We don’t need your useless factoids.”

Madison looks like she’s about to cry.

Big Mike stands beside her and towers over Seth. He pokes Seth in the chest. “Dude, don’t speak to the ladies that way, or you’ll have to deal with me.”

Seth holds up both hands and cowers. “We’re cool, Big Mike. Chill out.”

Katie steps to the front. “Let’s keep the testosterone in check, boys. It’s not going to get you anywhere. With the wolves or the ladies.”

All of us girls snicker as Big Mike squeezes back into his chair. “Sorry, Miss Reynolds. I mean Katie.”

Seth pouts as Wyn sits back down.

Meanwhile, Skyler is still fuming. “Like Seth has any chance at getting a lady.”

Seth’s face turns as red as Birdee’s beets. I can’t help but laugh at how fast Skyler put Seth in his place.

Skyler glances up at Porter with big, innocent eyes. “As I was saying before about bites. I just meant if the wolves are coming from captivity, do they still bite, or are they used to people being around? That’s all.”

Porter sits in a chair and crosses one foot over his knee. He hooks his thumbs through his suspenders. “Well, even though they’re bred in captivity, we try our best to give them a wild environment. We minimize contact, provide them with live prey, and let them roam freely within their fenced-in areas.”

I take notes and can’t help but smirk at the words
roam freely
and
fenced
being used in the same sentence. These wolves are about as wild as a bird in a cage or a betta fish in a bowl.

“Skyler, if we thought this project was dangerous, we certainly wouldn’t use students.” He looks over at Madison. “But to clear up any concern, there’s only been one red wolf attack on a human in more than 200 years.”

Big Mike adds in a low, baritone voice. “That we know of.”

I get a glimpse of Skyler’s face, and she looks terrified. Wyn has his arm draped over her shoulders, comforting her. She shouldn’t feel too safe. I happen to know there’s no way Wyn would stand up to a wolf, no matter how perfect Skyler is. I know from personal experience he’s petrified of anything that has more than two legs. I can only assume wolves are not at the top of his “Favorite Animal” list.

Agent Sweeney stands up with two new North Face backpacks. “Let’s go ahead and get started. We can talk more later if you still have questions. Tomorrow is our first day in the field, so we have a lot to cover. We’ll go over first aid, data collection, and then review basic winter survival skills. Each team will get a first aid kit and a pack of supplies.” He faces the left side of the room. “Who’s going to be the leader for Team One?”

Napoleon jumps up. “I’ll do it.” Seth grabs one backpack and holds it over his head like he’s the winner of some survival show. Big Mike folds his arms over his chest like he’s a bouncer. Seth cowers slightly. “Come on, Big Mike, you can be my wing man.”

Madison whispers to me, “Did you know guys shorter than five-foot-five are fifty percent more likely to have serious envy problems than guys taller than six feet tall?” She drops her head toward Seth. “Explains everything.”

I smile as she bursts into a fit of giggles.

Agent Sweeney eyes Wyn, Skyler, and me. “And Team Two? Who’s the lucky winner?”

Skyler glances back at me and then elbows Wyn in the ribs and whines, “Wyyynnnn.”

He winces at the jab and speaks up. “I guess I’ll do it since I’m the only man on the team.”

I can’t help but burst out laughing and address him for the first time in months. “Oh pu-lease. You can’t lead a male
solo
, let alone a whole team of girls.”

Wyn spins around and speaks to me. “Oh, yeah? Watch me.”

I look at Sweeney. “You can’t be serious.”

“Simmer down, Grace. He spoke up first,” Agent Sweeney says.

I shoot him a look that says,
don’t you dare let him be the leader, or you’ll get us all killed
, but Sweeney shrugs. Though I bet he’s smirking on the inside.

“Not my problem, Grace. You guys work it out.”

He tosses the second backpack. Wyn misses, and the pack goes crashing to the floor.

I rub my temples. If Skyler’s looks don’t kill me, Wyn surely will.

Survival Skill #5

Before you head out on a hike, make yourself familiar with the wildlife in the area to avoid animal encounters
.

B
efore Mom leaves for Asheville, she stops in my room and sits on the edge of my bed. Her face is pinched with concern.

“You sure about this wolf thing?” she asks.

I roll over and face her, the pillow squished between my legs. “Mom, stop. I’ll be fine.”

She strokes my hair. “I just don’t want anything to happen to you.”

“You and me both.” I sit up and look at her with confidence, even though my tummy is tied in knots. The thought of heading back into those woods for the first time since everything happened makes me ill. So I lie. “I’ll be fine. I promise. I
need
to do this.”

She nods as if she understands, but her eyes do not agree with me. “I trust you, but be sure to check in with Birdee. If I hear of you not telling her when and where and why or what, I’m coming back immediately.”

“Uh-oh. Wouldn’t want that.” I smile and rub my eyes, still half asleep. “Hey, goes for you too, ya know.”

My stomach feels emptier than usual, and the truth is, I don’t want Mom to go away any more than she wants me to hike. I’ve already lost Dad, so the thought of anything happening to her overwhelms me sometimes. Probably exactly how she feels about me.

I keep my concerns to myself, because I know she needs to do this training in order to get out of that crappy diner. And if she gets the slightest hint I’m not okay with it, she’ll cancel everything. Frankly, though, it’ll be nice to have her home more once she’s done.

“Deal. I’ll check in too.” She leans over and hugs me. “I’ll miss you.”

We hold each other for a second. I’ve learned the hard way, you always hug someone as if it’s the last time. It’s hard to believe a few short months ago we were so mad at each other and so hurt, we could barely breathe in the same room without fighting. Now our relationship is better than ever. Kinda sad it takes death to bring two people together.

She tilts her head and releases her infamous sigh. “You sure you’re going to be okay?”

I groan and fall back on the bed. “Mooom, please. I’ll be fine. I’m actually excited to get back out there again. Really.” I glance out my window at the white-capped mountains looming in the distance, anticipating our overdue reunion. “It’s been too long.”

“Okay.” She cups both my shoulders as tears form in her eyes. “I’m sorry I have to go, especially right now.”

I nod. “Just promise me when you start working for Dr. Head, we can bring back the return of family dinners and weekly movie night.”

She holds out her pinky. “I pinky promise.”

I can’t help but smile at the fact that she’ll always see me as being six. I curl my pinky around hers. “Now I feel much better.”

“Maybe if we’re lucky, he’ll give you some free sessions so you can visit him again. If you need to.”

I groan. “Can’t wait.”

She laughs and rubs my cheek. “He’s not so bad.” I see something in her smile that I can’t quite place. Before I can narrow it down, she changes the subject. “I’ll be back before you know it. It’ll be nice having Birdee here for Christmas since…”

Her mention of the dreaded C-word sends my head spinning. I think about Dad chopping down our Christmas tree. He was the only one who put up the lights outside and carved the turkey. Who’s going to do that now? Me? Birdee? Les? So many holiday tasks to reassign. They may seem small, but those little things are what made our family Christmas so special.

I bite the inside of my cheek and swallow the sadness stuck in my throat. I wish we’d skip Christmas this year. It’ll never be the same as before, so why even try? Why pretend when we could just sleep the whole day away for another year?

Because Birdee – Ms. Let’s Be As Tacky As We Can – would never go for that. She celebrates Groundhog Day so why would I think she’d skip Christmas?

Mom grabs her purse. “Okay. Well I better go. No use dillydallying anymore. I’ll call you as soon as I get to Asheville.”

I lift the pink cell phone she got me after Dad died. “I’ll text you.”

She smiles. “I’ll try to figure out how to text back. Still getting the hang of it.”

I take her overnight bag down the stairs. As Birdee walks Mom to Dad’s truck, I stand in the window, afraid to say a final goodbye. I remember the last time I saw Dad, the smile on his face when he walked down the driveway, the double-toot of his horn as he drove away. On that clear morning, I never imagined it’d be the last time I’d hear his voice.

As Mom pulls away, she honks her horn twice. Even when her truck disappears down the road, I linger in the window. I can’t help but feel sad and wonder in the back of my mind if that was the last time I’ll ever see her.

Birdee walks in the front door and shakes the snow off her straw hat. She makes a “brrrr” sound and hangs up her peacoat. She notices me still standing there and cups my shoulders.

“You don’t want her to leave, do you?”

I shake my head and try to hold back my tears along with the deep-seated fear of losing another person important to me.

Birdee hugs me from behind and rests her chin on my shoulder. Her breath tickles my ear. “You know, you’re just as worried about her as she is about you.”

I turn around and bury my head in my grandmother’s flannel shirt. She strokes my hair as I take in a whiff of her familiar flowery scent mixed with burning wood, obviously from tending to the fireplace.

I mumble, “I’m scared.”

She strokes my hair. “And well you should be.” She pushes me away and yells, “because when the cat is away…”

I force out a smile at the old phrase we used to always say every time my parents left on a trip. “The mice shall play,” I finish.

She claps. “That-a girl! What should we do first? Eat breakfast for dinner or dessert for brunch? So many choices.”

I shake my head. “Easy. My answer is always dessert.”