Good Samaritan

Leaf litter and mud clung to Killianne’s body, while some small, furtive creature slithered slowly across her leg. She was dying. She knew it with an undeniable certainty, the sticky, oozing wound in the back of her head, as well as her rasping breath, told her. Waves of pain radiated up her leg, dulled by time and the faint nausea that clenched her stomach. Despite all that, she was very clear about what had happened to her.

She had gone for a walk in the woods behind her house, just like every evening. Matthew was working at the table, but when she’d put on her shoes, he’d laid his pen down, patted his stomach and professed a need for exercise. They’d both laughed and he’d joined her. Walking quietly, enjoying the evening, Killianne had led the way. When they’d ducked under the trees and edged across a huge log placed over the drainage ditch, he’d struck the back of her head with a blunted object. She’d fallen forward, twisting her knee and ankle as she impacted the log, fingers scrabbling and nails breaking trying to hold on. He’d watched, a bright smile on his face, as she slipped sideways, the underside of her arm scraping along the bark. Inching toward her, he’d snickered and kicked her savagely in the ribs. A crunching sound and a soft cry punctuated her sudden flight through the air. She’d landed face up, her right leg twisted under her, the jagged bone protruding from her skin. Had there not been about a foot of leaf cushion, the fall would have finished her. A cloud of partially decayed leaves had risen into the air and fallen over her, obscuring her body so that only her head and shoulders remained visible.

Looking up at her husband of twelve years, the loving stepfather to her college age daughter, had been worse than the fall. He’d peered down at her, studying the scene intently, then released what appeared to be a rock from his hand, dropping it close to her head. “I’ve hated you for years,” he stated. Then he’d gone away and left her, blood seeping into the soil, barely able to breathe.

When her fear had abated a bit, she’d tried to move and found it impossible to do much more than turn her head side to side. Her arms were terribly heavy, moving her legs too painful, so she lay still and watched the sunlight fade. During the night she slept, her dreams littered with images of her husband, his lips forming the words ‘for years.’

Just before first light, a snuffling awakened her. Some large animal had happened on her and sniffed the top of her head. It pawed through the leaves near her body. Killianne decided it must be a large dog and slid back into fitful unconsciousness. The thing crawling over her left leg brought her around again. This time, sunlight filtered down through the trees and insects buzzed lazily near her.

A rustling caught her attention and she rolled her head to the side, thinking the dog had returned. Squatting in a patch of sunlight not far from her was a woman. Rays of light streamed over her dark hair and naked skin, bronzing her. No fat covered the chiseled muscles. Her chest rose and fell as dark eyes regarded Killianne thoughtfully. “You’re dying,” she said, her tongue slinging the vowels in an odd accent.

“Help me,” Killianne mouthed, trying unsuccessfully to lift her arm. She felt so weak, her lips didn't even seem able to form the words. For a moment she wondered if the other woman had heard, but the woman moved closer and Killianne felt a rush of relief.

“I may have the power to aid you, but I don’t know if I should.” She smiled, impossibly white teeth glistening in the sunlight. “I shouldn’t even be here, but I am curious and sometimes I like to be near people.” She paused and sniffed the air, cocking her head to one side. “There are men south of here, searching the woods. Looking for you I suppose, someone named Killianne?”

Killianne nodded, drawing a painful breath. “Help,” she gasped again.

“It’s difficult to know what to do,” the woman responded, reaching out and touching Killianne’s hair with long, heavily callused fingers. “The man who attacked you,” she started, watching as Killianne’s eyes opened wide in surprise. “Is he your mate?”

“You saw,” Killianne groaned.

The woman pointed to a dense area of vegetation on the other side of the ditch. “I was there when it happened. I thought you would die quickly, he must have thought so, too. It was not my business, so I went north following the ditch almost to the freeway. People feed the squirrels in the park there. They’re easy pickings. I didn’t realize until I came past you heading home, that you were still alive.” She stopped talking, turning her head and listening. “The searchers are moving this way,” she informed Killianne. “In a few hours they’ll find you.” She paused, “You understand that it’s certain you won’t be alive when they do.”

“Help me,” Killianne mouthed again, dragging in air. For some reason the pain suddenly seemed more intense, her entire body throbbed. The wierdness of the situation suddenly struck her and she wondered about the woman's lack of clothes, odd accent and narrative.

The woman frowned, “I’m not sure I can, it’s just a story. Something people tell to frighten children.”

Killianne groaned softly, trying hard to focus on what the woman was saying, though none of it made much sense. I’m dreaming or hallucinating, she thought turning her head in an effort to clear it.

The woman stretched, her ribs moving under her skin. “You don’t understand, of course. I don’t understand fully myself.” She leaned over Killianne, breasts swaying gently from the movement, making the hallucination theory even more believable. “When I was younger, I spent a lot of time in cities, pretending to be normal.” Her gaze drifted and became unfocused. “It seems a lifetime ago. Now, I live wild.” A flush rippled over her body, turning her skin a deep red. It seemed to Killianne that for a second the texture of the skin had changed, becoming taut, while the muscles became longer. The flush disappeared and the woman smiled. She waved a hand behind her. “This drainage ditch travels about four miles south of here, where it crosses under the highway. On the other side are ranchlands and the national park beyond. I den up down there, where hunting is usually good.” She paused and gave Killianne a speculative glance. “I don’t guess you’ll really understand unless I show you.”

She backed away, shaking her head as she did. A crimson blush flowed over her body, her muscles lengthened and her soft black hairs thickened and grew. Her nose and mouth jutted forward and she dropped to all fours as a tail sprouted, immediately growing wavy black fur. In seconds, a huge black wolf stood where the woman had been. It sank back on its haunches and lolled its tongue between large solid fangs as it regarded Killianne.

Killianne blinked hard. Hallucination, she told herself. It’s not real, but as she watched, the wolf rose up and began to change. Everything reversed itself until the woman stood before her, smiling and shaking her head.

“I told you, you wouldn’t get it unless you saw,” she paused, taking in Killianne’s frown. “Trying to work it out aren’t you? How I do it.” She hovered over Killianne again. “I don’t know how, though. I just can. I was born like this, my mother was the same.” She glanced into the trees, her head tilting slightly. “They say that if I were to bite a normal human, they would begin to change. I’ve never tried it. It seemed like nonsense to me.” She turned her head, drew a deep breath, nostrils flaring and scented the air. “He’s coming,” she said.

Killianne knew immediately whom she meant. With her last bit of strength she tried to push herself to a sitting position, but pain blinded her and she cried out sinking back into the leaves. The woman watched indecision printed on her features. A twig snapped and her gaze hardened. Before Killianne realized her intention, she leaped forward rippling from one form to the other with shocking speed. Hands, becoming paws, scrabbled at Killianne’s shoulder and teeth buried deeply in the flesh. A loud gasp and a low growl issued from the two and then the wolf ripped free, streaking up the side of the ditch to its hiding place.

The wound burned, the stinging spreading down her arm to the tips of her fingers. The pain was intense and had Killianne been able to get her breath, she would’ve cried out. As it was, she barely heard the crunch of leaves and the slipping, sliding and cursing going on behind her. Her husband’s face was suddenly suspended over her, his frown deepening when he noted that her eyes focused on him. “Why can’t you just die like anybody else would,” he demanded. Kneeling down, he studied her intently. The burning had spread throughout her body and she found as the heat traveled through her lungs that she could draw in air easier. The world sharpened, becoming clear. Distant sounds were suddenly audible and odors assaulted her. She groaned and tried to move, causing herself to almost lose consciousness from the stabbing pains that radiated down her leg. Matthew laughed, his face still floating above her, “You must have broken something, dear.” He removed one of his gloves and without warning slammed it down over her mouth and nose. His hand was hot through the material and it pressed down firmly against her face cutting off her air. She flopped her arm well aware she didn’t have the strength to fight him. The woods began to fade along with her hearing. Her eyes fastened on Matthew’s, watching as he continued to bear down on her adding his weight and other hand to finish it. She was still watching when he turned his head. His eyes widened in surprise and then fear.

The wolf sailed across her line of vision smashing into Matthew and knocking him backward. The glove fell away and Killianne began struggling to fill her lungs, sucking in oxygen while tears of pain streaked down her cheeks. Her hearing returned and the horrible sounds of snarling and growling, as well as her husband’s high pitched and terrified screams, filled her ears. She got her voice back and screamed herself, trying to roll sideways so she could see what was happening. The pain in her leg prevented her and she lay still listening as the wolf made short work of Matthew.

In less than a minute, the animal came trotting by. The front of her chest was covered in blood. Her muzzle and teeth dripped red. She sat down by Killianne and lolled out her tongue. Killianne raised her hand. The wolf slunk forward, gave her fingers a gentle lick and stretched out next to her. They stayed like that for some time, listening to the search party come nearer, as Killianne grew steadily stronger. When the rescue team was close enough, the wolf rose and with a friendly wave of her tail she leaped up the side of the ditch and disappeared.

Killianne drew a deep breath and called for help several times. There was a loud crashing at the top of the ditch and then a voice, “We hear you, we’re coming, keep talking.”

“Down here,” she shouted back, “in the ditch.” Two men were soon stumbling down the incline. They were checking her over when two more joined them. “My husband,” Killianne murmured. “He found me a little while ago, something attacked him, over there,” she said, nodding her head in the right direction. One of the men got up and canvassed the area. He came back almost immediately, white faced and grim. He motioned one of the others and they stepped aside. More men came, bringing a backboard. They talked and fussed over Killianne while she tried to make out the words she was hearing in the background.

“The lady’s husband is over there, something big attacked him. A dog maybe, he’s pretty mangled. Whatever it was he didn’t put up much of a fight, it almost bit his head off. This is the weirdest missing person I’ve ever worked.”

“I know, she’s less than half a mile from their house and her husband had us looking down by the highway. I wasn’t sure about his story in the beginning. Why would she get so mad at him she’d hop out of the car on the highway, six miles from her house, and try to walk home through the woods.”

“I talked to the neighbors and they said she took a walk every night after dinner and she always walked this direction. You don’t think she could have done this to him. Made it look like a wild animal, I mean.”

“No way, not with her injuries. She’s got a concussion, a compound fracture, and some internal injuries, though I can’t tell their severity until we get her to the hospital. As to bites, whatever it was chowed down on her too. She has a huge wound in her shoulder.”

“Do you think she can answer some questions, tell us what happened?”

“Maybe, maybe not. Head injuries are tricky things. She’s suffering from shock as well. We may never get anything coherent out of her.”

The men lifted Killianne and began transporting her up the hill toward a waiting ambulance. One walked along either side of the stretcher keeping a protective eye on her all the way up. If they found it strange that she was smiling, they didn’t comment. Far away in the distance, Killianne heard the wail of the wolf and her heart quickened, as her lungs ached to give answer, but she continued smiling. Later, she promised herself, when I’m well, I’ll try and then we’ll see. The doors shut and the siren started up, as the ambulance wheeled away.