They Called Me an Abomination and Ordered Me Killed, So I Came Back as the Wolf They Buried novel · Chapter 14 of 24

Chapter 14: Forty Wolves

We dressed in the dark in under a minute.

I found my shirt on the floor under the vise and my boots by the steel table.

Remy stood with his torn shirt held shut in one fist and his eyes on the door.

"Stay in here," he said.

"No."

"Odalie."

"It's my gravel," I said.

I picked up the wrench I keep on the bench and put it in my back pocket.

He looked at it, and then at me, and for the first time in days the corner of his mouth moved.

"Fourth term," he said.

"Shut up," I said.

I opened the bay door.

The moon had gone down behind the cane, and the sky over the levee was gray at the edges with dawn.

The lane was full of people.

They had come on foot and in trucks parked along the shoulder with the headlights off.

There were forty wolves, and a long white Lincoln stood at the front with its door open.

Marguerite Thibodeaux stood beside it in a black coat, with a rosary wound around her left hand.

Clemence stood a pace behind her in the dark dress with the pinned sleeve.

The twelve thin wolves from the truck were at the edge of my lot, pressed together, looking at the ground.

Nobody had crossed onto the gravel.

A line of old oyster shell marks where my lot starts, and forty people stood on the far side of it as if someone had drawn it in chalk.

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