He recoiled slightly, and she instantly felt sorry for how mean she’d sounded. She huddled closer to be heard over the whoosh of wind. “Why would Karen be going to Yosemite?”
Tyler hesitated. “Maybe that’s where she’s going to dump the bodies.”
Lizzie shivered. “But why?”
“I don’t know. It’s all crazy if you ask me.”
They crowded under the blanket, contemplating this, as the truck rumbled down the highway. Its speed had slowed, navigating turns, and Lizzie could feel the air changing, becoming sharper and colder. Her ears popped.
“We’re climbing,” she told Tyler.
The passing headlights were few and far between now, until there was only darkness. Lizzie thought she heard the rush and gurgle of water. She remembered that there was a stream alongside the road for much of the ride into Yosemite. Was that what she heard now, the sound of water over rocks?
“How long have we been driving?” Tyler asked, and Lizzie wished she’d thought to check her watch when they left the zoo.
She shrugged against him. “I don’t know.”
They lay in silence for a while, feeling the truck’s vibration beneath them, and then Tyler asked, “Do you hear that?”
“Yeah,” Lizzie said. “It’s the river. I think we’re almost to Yosemite.”
“No,” Tyler said, his voice hushed. “It’s inside the truck.”
And then Lizzie heard it, too … the muted clang of metal, almost lost in the rush of wind and road noise.
She froze. “Did you bump the cage?”
“No.” His face was turned away from her, looking back at the cages, and she felt his thin frame stiffen. “Lizzie, look … the white one is still alive!”
Chapter 20
YOSEMITE
LIZZIE TWISTED HER head to follow his gaze and her heart nearly stopped. Inside the cage on the left, Tamarack’s ghostly shape shifted. A minute later, the wolf raised her head.
“Oh!” Lizzie cried, grabbing Tyler.
“What’s going on?” Tyler whispered. “It’s like she’s waking up.”
Lizzie clutched his arm. “Maybe she’s all right.”
They stared at each other. “Maybe Lobo is, too,” she whispered, almost afraid to let herself believe it. Her heart raced with joy and relief.
Tyler’s eyes were wide. “But that means we’re back here with two WOLVES,” he said shakily.
It was true. The wolves were barely a foot away, their massive furry shapes filling the cages. But Lizzie didn’t care. Her eyes were glued on Lobo. Please, she thought. Please.
And then suddenly she understood. She rolled up on her elbows, staring down at Tyler. “Karen’s going to let them go.”
“What?”
“She’s going to release them! In the park.”
Tyler stared at her. “In Yosemite?” he asked in confusion. “But they’re sick. Why would she set them free when they’re dying?”
“Listen.” Lizzie grabbed his arm, piecing it together in her mind. “I wonder if … do you think Karen could have been making them sick somehow?”
Tyler frowned. “That would be seriously messed up. She’s a vet! She’s supposed to make them better!”
“I know. I know,” Lizzie said. “But what if she was making them sick just so she’d have a reason to take them out of the zoo?”
Tyler glanced back at the cages, where Tamarack was stirring. “But the white one, Tamarack … she wasn’t even dead. Couldn’t your dad tell that?”
“Sure, if he examined her. But he would trust Karen. I mean, she’s the vet, so he’d have no reason not to. And if they were worried about the disease spreading, nobody would get too close to the sick wolves, you know? That’s why my dad wanted an autopsy.”
Tyler stared at her. “But if she’s doing that, making them sick, that’s got to be illegal, right? I mean, she’s a vet, and she works for the zoo.”
Lizzie nodded, unsure what to think. “But that means Tamarack is going to be okay. And Lobo, too,” she said urgently. She couldn’t believe it, savoring the flood of relief.
She peered through the rear window at the dark, smooth shape of Karen’s head. There was something so unknowable about her. Lizzie remembered what her dad had told her about Karen and Nature Justice, that environmental group she’d been so passionate about. There’d been a story about people getting arrested for trying to protect an old-growth forest. Karen was so strong in her beliefs. Lizzie felt uncertain so much of the time herself and had often envied that quality, but now she realized she was seeing it carried to its logical conclusion: Karen’s conviction that what she believed was even more important than the law.
“Are there even wolves in Yosemite?” Tyler asked. “Is it okay to let them go there?”
Lizzie shook her head, stunned, her mind still racing. “I don’t know. I’ve never seen one in the park. Listen, Tyler—maybe Athena didn’t die.” Her words tumbled over one another. “Remember how you saw an animal in the truck a few nights ago? Leaving the zoo? What if it was Athena? And Karen was taking her to Yosemite to set her free.”
Lizzie thought about hearing her father talk to Karen the day Athena died, how surprised he’d been that she’d already gotten rid of the body, without any confirmation of what killed the wolf. She thought of that night when she and Tyler had gone to the wolf pen, how someone had bent over Tamarack and done something to her. She had wondered if it was Ed, or even one of the custodians, but now it seemed clear it had been Karen.
“The vet is making them sick,” Tyler said slowly.
“So she can set them free.”
Lizzie didn’t even know how to feel. As awful as it was that Karen had given the wolves something that made them so weak and ill, she had done it to free them. To get them out of the pen in the zoo and let them loose in the woods. Where they belonged.
She turned back toward the cages and knew what she would see before she actually saw it. Lobo’s huge, dark form moved—once, almost a shiver, and then again. Through the darkness, she saw him raise his head and glimpsed his pale silver eyes.
Lizzie felt a sharp thrill: part fear, part excitement, part pure joy. Lobo was alive!
“Look at Lobo,” she whispered to Tyler.
Even in the blackness of the truck bed, she could tell that Tyler was petrified.
“They’re in cages,” she told him. “They can’t hurt us.”
“But what about when she releases them?” Tyler said softly.
The words were barely out of his mouth when they felt the truck slowing down, and then bumping and jolting off the edge of the road. Lizzie lifted her head and, over the side of the truck bed, she could see that they were driving across a grassy meadow, with tall trees looming ahead and immense walls of rock rising in the distance. The moon shone on the high cliffs. She knew the contours of the landscape immediately, from a dozen camping trips with her father … not just the shape of it, but the particular sound of its silence, the sharp earthy smell of the forest.
“We’re in Yosemite,” she whispered to Tyler.
They huddled together in wonder as the truck bumped and banged over rough ground.
Chapter 21
WOLVES IN THE WOODS
“GET READY,” TYLER whispered. “She’s about to stop.”
Lizzie pressed herself flat. The truck had been bumping and jostling over uneven ground. Now it was going more slowly, as grass crunched and rustled beneath the tires.
“We have to jump out. If we don’t, she’ll see us,” Tyler said softly.
He rolled to the side of the truck bed, pulling his backpack with him and balling the blanket against his chest. Lizzie scooted on her stomach next to him. In the cages, the wolves were stirring, clanging against the metal, struggling to stand.
The truck had slowed to a crawl.
“Now!” Tyler whispered.
He lifted himself over the edge of the truck bed, tossing the backpack and blanket over the side. With an urgent look at L
izzie, he tumbled after them, landing in the grass with a soft oomph.
Lizzie gripped the metal rim. She was desperate to get out before the truck stopped, but afraid of falling under the wheels.
In the darkness, she could see Tyler beckoning to her. There was no time. She threw her legs over the side of the truck, pushed off with her hands, and jumped.
She hit the ground with a thud, scraping her palms on the prickly grass.
Tyler grabbed her hand and yanked her up. He had his backpack hooked over one shoulder and thrust the blanket into her arms. “Hurry,” he whispered. “Run to those trees.”
They raced over the rough meadow in the direction of the woods, just as the truck rolled to a halt.
With the engine cut off, they were abruptly subsumed in a shocking silence. Tyler scrambled through the trees and ducked behind a large, mossy rock. He motioned Lizzie to follow him. The truck had stopped just a dozen yards away. After a minute, Lizzie heard the groan of the driver’s side door opening, and then Karen stepped out and walked toward the tailgate. Lizzie could see she was holding something in her hand.
“What’s she carrying?” Tyler asked.
“I can’t tell from here.”
The tailgate clanged down and Karen hoisted herself up onto the truck bed. The clink of the cages rattling carried through the cool night air, and even from a distance, Lizzie could tell that the wolves were moving around. Karen crouched over Tamarack’s cage, and the wolf made a sound that was half snarl, half yelp.
Tyler strained over the hummock of rock. “She’s giving them a shot,” he said.
Now Karen squeezed around the other cage and knelt down next to Lobo. She seemed to be talking to the wolves, but Lizzie couldn’t make out any words.
She craned over the top of the boulder, trying to get a better look.
“What’s she doing now?” Tyler asked.
Lizzie leaned toward him, tugging the blanket over her shoulders. “I don’t know. She’s just sitting there.”
Karen seemed to be sitting back on her heels in the truck bed, watching the wolves.
Inside the cages, Tamarack and Lobo were growing more and more active. Lizzie could see them fully on their feet now, turning and twisting, banging against the wire mesh. Tamarack’s pale fur glowed in the moonlight. A minute later, Lobo lunged against the door of the cage, his shaggy shoulders so massive that he all but blocked Tamarack from view.
“Look,” Tyler whispered. “They seem fine now.”
Lizzie could feel the frightened gallop of her heart. Karen stood and negotiated her way around the cages, toward the cab of the truck. Grunting with the effort, she pushed Tamarack’s cage along the truck bed to the open tailgate. It scraped loudly against the metal. Then she pushed Lobo’s cage next to it, so both cages were at the edge of the open tailgate, facing the meadow beyond. The wolves were whirling furiously, banging against the wire mesh.
Karen leaned across the top of Tamarack’s cage and fiddled with the release. Lizzie heard her say something under her breath, and then abruptly, the cage door dropped open.
Tamarack leapt out. Her pale form glided through the air, a comet in the night. She streaked across the meadow, directly toward the woods.
“Watch out!” Tyler whispered. In fright, Lizzie pressed herself against the rough side of the boulder. But the wolf swerved away from them, disappearing through the trees.
They barely had time to catch their breath when they heard the second cage door clang open.
“Lobo,” Lizzie whispered. She raised her head just in time to see the big wolf soar over the tailgate, impossibly light and fast and free.
He skimmed across the grass, loping over the meadow. Lizzie braced herself, but Lobo just followed Tamarack’s path. An instant later, he, too, had disappeared.
“Stay down,” Tyler warned her.
Karen was still crouched in the truck bed, gazing out at the empty meadow. Then swiftly and firmly, she pushed the cages back toward the cab of the truck, jumped to the ground, and banged the tailgate shut. She walked around to the driver’s side and climbed in.
“She’s leaving!” Lizzie cried. “We have to get back to the truck.”
“But she’ll see us,” Tyler protested.
“Do you want to be left here?” Lizzie countered. “With the wolves? Run!”
Just as they started out from behind the rock, the truck’s engine rumbled to life. Karen began driving slowly back across the meadow.
“Hurry!” Tyler urged Lizzie, racing ahead, his backpack flapping against his shoulder blades. She ran after him, throwing down the blanket and stumbling past the trees into the meadow. They ran through the prickly grass.
The truck was far ahead, its headlights casting wide arcs of light over the field. For an instant, Lizzie could see the shadows on either side morph into bushes and trees; big, jagged rocks. Tyler’s slim shape darted gracefully through the brush ahead of her.
“We’re not going to make it,” he cried, and Lizzie could see him slowing down.
As they watched, the truck bounced noisily away from them, gaining speed. Finally, its taillights disappeared, swallowed by the night.
Out of breath, Lizzie leaned over her knees, gulping lungfuls of air.
Tyler had stopped a few feet ahead. His backpack lay on the ground.
Lizzie walked over to him. “What do we do now?” she asked.
He stooped and felt for the strap of his backpack, swinging it into the air. “Get the blanket and then find a place to sleep, I guess.”
She looked around at the immense darkness, the high walls of the canyon that sparkled under a sky full of stars. She’d been camping in Yosemite many times, but not like this. Not without a tent, and sleeping bag, and food and water. Not without her father.
Her father! What would Mike be thinking? It was late now, and he had no idea where she was. A day often passed without her seeing him—things were so busy at the zoo, she never even knew where he was most of the time—but always, always, she was there when he came home at night. She pictured Mike walking into the empty house and calling for her in the echoing silence.
She turned to Tyler hopelessly. “How can we stay here? There’s no place for us to sleep.”
Even in the darkness, she could sense his jaw tighten. “We’ll sleep on the ground.” It sounded like a reproach, and of course this was nothing new for him. He’d probably been sleeping on the ground for weeks.
Stung, she watched as he heaved the backpack over his shoulder and turned, walking toward the woods.
When she didn’t immediately join him, he stopped and seemed to relent. “Come on, we’ll be okay. I know how to do this.”
She looked at him dubiously.
“Where’s the blanket?” he persisted.
“I dropped it when we ran. But I don’t see it now. It’s too dark.”
“Let’s go back to where we were. We’ll find it.”
Lizzie followed him across the field, sharing none of his certainty. The meadow was a black blur, bordered by the tall, indistinct shapes of the trees. Somewhere in that forest was the blanket … and the wolves.
Chapter 22
SOUNDS IN THE DARK
WHEN THEY REACHED the grove of trees, Lizzie started searching the needle-covered earth for the blanket.
Tyler glanced around. “Where did you leave it?”
“I don’t know. Near the rock, I think.”
“Which rock?”
“The rock we were hiding behind,” she answered impatiently. There were boulders scattered throughout the woods, and it was so dark, Lizzie had no idea which one was their hiding place.
“Maybe that’s it.” She pointed.
Tyler shook his head. “It was bigger than that.”
They walked farther into the trees, kicking at the carpet of needles and fir cones. “Did you pack a flashlight?” Lizzie asked.
Tyler frowned at her. “No.”
“That would have been a good idea.”
> “It would have been a good idea to hold on to the blanket.”
“I didn’t know we were going to end up spending the night in the woods!”
“Neither did I!”
They stared at each other, fuming.
“It was your idea to get in the truck,” Lizzie said.
“Didn’t you want to find out what was going on with the wolves?” Tyler demanded. “You were so worried. I did it for you! Now we know they’re all right.” He turned away from her, balling his fists. “And it wasn’t my idea to get stuck here. No way. I would’ve made it back to the truck if you hadn’t been so slow.”
“Slow!” Lizzie exclaimed, outraged. “I’m as fast as you are!”
“Well, all I’m saying is, I ran with my backpack. It’s a lot heavier than the stupid blanket, but you couldn’t handle running with that.” He glared at her. “And now we need it! It’s cold.”
“Then stop complaining and help me find it,” Lizzie snapped.
She scuffed at the ground as she walked, hoping her sneaker would hit something soft. All the rocks looked the same now, just big blobs. The trees crowded around, and she wandered through the maze of trunks.
“Are you still looking?” she called.
There was no answer.
“Tyler?”
Now she looked up, searching the darkness for Tyler’s silhouette. She didn’t see him, and her heart began to pound. “Tyler!”
Frantically, she turned back the way she’d come, scanning the trees for any sign of movement. What if the wolves were here? What if they’d run away from the truck but were just waiting there, nearby in the woods?
“TYLER!” she yelled.
She hurried in the direction of the meadow, where the faint moonlight at least gave some hope of visibility. And then she heard it. A high keening noise. It echoed through the air, rolling over her in waves, chilling her to the bone. A howl.
She froze.
A few seconds later, it came again, a rippling, building crescendo. The wolves were howling. And then, far away, she thought she heard a high, faint, crooning answer.