Here There Be Wolves

Chapter 1

"I thought you said it was safe?"

She stared incredulously at the abandoned school sitting out in the lot past the barbed wire-topped chain link fence.

Shirley knew the place didn't look safe -the parking lot was long ago overrun with vegetation and wind-blown trash, and the building had had most of it's windows either broken or covered with grayed wooden boards- but that's exactly why it was safe.

"It is." She confirmed, shimmying behind an overgrown crop of bushes, Claire following with a frown.

Shirley unwound a wire and pulled open a section of the fence. "After you," she nodded at the opening, and Claire started to think maybe following a stranger to an abandoned schoolhouse at nearly dusk hadn't been the smartest idea.

Still, she ducked into the opening, watching as the older girl pulled the fence back into place and retied the wire.

"Safe? Really? There's a hole in the fence."

"Which is carefully hidden," the other girl threw over her shoulder. "If someone were to get in, well. That's why I have a watch dog." Claire glanced around the yard as if the thing would come barreling towards them, ready to attack, and Shirley chuckled.

"You're safe with me."

Claire didn't quite stop scanning the empty lot, though, and hugged the teddy bear against her stomach for some measure of unfounded safety.

-----

Shirley had spent her first couple of days in the city sussing out a den.

It was day five when she'd found this place.

It was in a low traffic area, where commerce had seen more profitable days, and as businesses moved out they simply left behind a ghost neighborhood of empty houses and other buildings in their wake. The fence had been an iffy thing -it either kept people out or made it easier for junkies to find a place to hide away.

Once she'd gotten inside the fence, she'd sniffed around but found nothing but the evidence of other passing animals.

A side door had been easily persuaded to open when she'd thrown her weight against the lock. The inside looked like a scene from one of those post-apocalypse movies: most of the furniture had been left behind and was covered in dust and cobwebs. There were still finger paintings hung up on the walls, stacks of paperwork left to yellow and curl up on themselves around the edges. Name plaques were left on desks, cups held pens and pencils.

After watching the place for weeks, no one ever came or went; and so she began to convert parts of it to suit her needs over the next few weeks.

She chose the classroom she liked the best and hauled out the student desks, leaving the teacher's desk, and cleared the walls and counters. One corner became a hapless collection of blankets, and the little hand sink with the cabinets became an improvised kitchen with all sorts of canned goods and pantry items stocked inside. There was a little bathroom inside the room -she assumed it was once a kindergarten class with such a ridiculous baby blue colored fluffy floor mat and a seat cover- and she hoarded all the toilet paper she could get her hands on.

It slowly became home. She dragged in a mattress (and piled her blankets on top of it) and stuffed clothing into the cubbies that had once held the students' backpacks and books.

-----

"You can take the bed," she nodded towards the nest of blankets piled up on the matress and set the to-go bag on the counter by the sink. "When's the last time you ate?"

"I, uh... I don't know. Three days ago?" She's regarding the bed a little enviously, and Shirley thinks of her first few days on the street -wanting nothing more than a meal and a safe, comfortable place to sleep.

Of course, it had ended up raining the better part of a week, and after five days she'd swallowed her pride (and morals) and had stolen several snack bars from a gas station. She'd crashed on a bench in the park a few times, but after a lecture from a cop she started sleeping behind dumpsters. Truthfully, she wasn't sure how long she could have kept surviving like that -she'd been lucky that fate had thrown her a bit of a curve ball.

Because her curse... it was ultimately her blessing, as well. It had manifested nearly two months after she'd found herself on the street, right at the onset of her monthly cycle. Ironic, truly, since the blood-letting was in an entirely different form.

She coughed, willing the dark memories away, and turned to dig through one of the drawers. She pulled out a pair of loose black yoga pants and a Metallica t-shirt. Shirley offered the clothing with a small smile.

"Go ahead and get comfy. How's Chinese sound?" She drew the girl's attention back to her, and she watched her eyes glance from the bag of food, to her, to the clothes, and back again.

Finally, she took the clothing and stared at the bag. "Like heaven."

"Good. The bathroom is over there.... get changed and I'll get dinner ready for us."