The Wolf's Marine

Old Friend

Storm's Pov.

The afternoon's events keep rolling through my head as I drive towards town. I could understand the wolf. What the hell? I must be going crazier. To push these odd thoughts away, I turn the radio on.

People back home wouldn't know me now.
I was in the dark, had my head in the clouds.
Changing is hard, and surviving is tough.
It's amazing what it takes to wake you up.

"I like some of the new things about my life. Especially the part where I'm not your wife!
Here's to the new me! I never thought I could feel so free! I'll get over what you've done to me. Say hi to the new me." I jam out to the song that practically describes my life to the T.

More songs blare through my speakers as I drive through town to the Tavern. While the name may not be anything special, the people and food sure are.

I pull in and park my truck next to a rusted out shit box. The shitbox is so rusty it's hard to tell what color it originally was.

I hop out of my truck and limp into the Tavern. I'm automatically met with the scent of popcorn and beer. Not a great combination but it beats the smells of war.

As I make my way through the crowd of I see a familiar sight. Sitting on a bar stool with a glass of beer in her hand is woman with curly red-brown hair. On her head is a sun faded ballcap with pit vipers resting on them. She hasn't changed much from the last time I've seen her.

"No mountain dew?" I tease as I pull out a stool and sit next to her. "Nothing but beer." She grins at me before going back to drinking.

We sit in silence for a few minutes before the bar tender comes over and asks what I want. "Mountain dew is fine." As much as I want a beer, I don't have a ride home. So getting drunk out of my mind to forget today's odd events is not an option.

"You look familiar. Do I know you?" My old friend finally asks. "Do you remember spending the night in the shed playing card games? We stayed up so late talking and solving the world's problems. But the problem of not being with our crushes was still there. The next day we went out spearing and saw nothing but a bullhead swim through." I can't help but grin at the memory.

I watch with amusement as the gears in her head start to turn. "Storm?" "It's been too long sister. I really missed you Callie." I say as I slide out of my chair and offer her a hug. We hug briefly before she pulls away with a hurt look. "You left without saying goodbye. Where did you go?" "That is a long story you're going to want another beer for." I sigh before getting back on my stool.

"It all started with Mark." I scowl as his ugly face flashes through my mind. "I hate that guy! He's a complete jackass." She immediately replies.

"I was coming home from fishing at my secret spot when I saw Mark's truck parked in the front yard. Which was normal so I didn't think much of it. I got out of my truck and went to the garage to put my fishing stuff away. As I put my rod back I heard a gunshot go off. That surprised me because Dad had told Mark not to shoot any vermin cause we were going to gas their dens that night. So I hurried out of the garage to see what Mark had shot. At the back of the barn I found Mark holding Dad's 12 gauge, at his feet lay Lassie in a pool of blood. Scattered around them were my chickens, with no heads. Their heads weren't even cut off though, they had been popped off by hand." I pause as I wince at the memory.

"He had a look of fear in his eyes as he realized I had found out what he did. "It's not what it looks like." He tried to defend himself. "Go! Get out of here!" I screamed at the top of my lungs. Mark dropped the 12 gauge and ran off towards his truck. As soon as I heard him drive away I picked up Lassie's lifeless body and carried her to the apple tree. I buried her and my chickens there. Once my parents got home I told them what Mark had done. And my parents took his side! Mom told me all about how Mark had the right to do that and blah blah blah. It was complete and utter bullshit. I couldn't stand to be around them anymore so I stormed out to my truck. I drove up and down the back roads crying my eyes out, not caring if I crashed and died. But as the want of death filled me, the radio started playing patriotic songs. It took a few songs for me to realize I wanted to defend this beautiful country."

"I'm going to kill Mark." Callie practically growls as she interrupts my story. Even though her interruption annoyed me, I couldn't help but agree with her. "After that I drove up to the cities and stayed in some sleazy hotel until my birthday. Then I joined the marines and that's where I've been the last six years." I finish my story. As much as I want to tell Callie of what I experienced in the marines, I didn't want anyone eavesdropping.

"I'm going to drag Mark to the pasture and shoot him." That's the Callie I know and love. "There's no need for that. Karma will come back and bite him." I say before taking a sip of my mountain dew. Instead of being met with beautiful awesomeness, I'm met with the pop being flat. I guess my story got a little long winded.

"Now tell me about you." I say before flagging the bar tender down for another pop. "There's not much to tell, I've been fishing a lot. I also have been shooting trap. Nothing too crazy. I did shoot a fourteen point buck this past deer season." She says with a big grin.

"Ooo, tell me about that." This is the first time I've gotten to hear a hunting story in years

Time flies by and it's closing time.

"You should come to my place tomorrow. I have a friend of mine coming over, you should meet her." Callie says as she chugs the last of her beer. "Sure, I'd love to meet your friend. I just can't come till after work." "See you then!" With that she starts to make her way towards the door.

"Wait!" I yell as I hobble after her. She turns and looks at me, waiting for to catch up. "Where do you live?" "At the old Burns farm."
With that she heads for the door and I follow close behind her.

I have to hold my laugh in as I watch her get into the rusty shitbox. I did not expect her to own it. After she's pulled away, I climb into my truck and drive towards home. Though it's not much of a home.

As I turn onto the backroads, my mind drifts back to the wolf. His body was wrapped around me, like it was trying to, comfort me? That can't be it, why would he comfort me during one of my breakdowns? And why could he talk?

I slam on my breaks as the wolf from earlier today pauses in the middle of the dirt road. What the hell?!

His eyes seem to glow a fiery yellow in the head lights. His lips curl back and he flashes me his fangs before he runs across the road and into the woods.

I need some sleep, I'm clearly going crazy.