Something made her eyes open, some sound or sense that told her she was no longer alone. What she saw made her freeze.
A huge gray wolf sat on its haunches, watching her. As big as a Shetland pony, easily six feet in length, maybe more, it outweighed her, outmuscled her, and Karen didn’t doubt it could outrun her.
The sheer size identified it, but that was impossible. The Olympic gray timber wolves had disappeared in the 1920s.
The impossibility combined with exhaustion made her blurt, "You’re extinct. You don’t exist."
The wolf stood, stretched, turned to display all sides of itself to her, then sat back down with a shrug of its massive shoulders.
Karen shut her eyes. "You’re not real. Go away."
Feet padded towards her. She retreated into the childhood defense against monsters. If you don’t see it, if you don’t move, it can’t see you. Fur brushed her bare arm. The wolf’s breath huffed against her ear as it sniffed her. It gave her a gentle nudge.
"Just kill me," she said. "I’m too tired to run. I stopped here because every part of my body hurts. Even my hair hurts."
The wolf nudged her harder. When she didn’t move, teeth nipped at her shirt. "Hey!" Karen came upright, eyes wide open. The wolf grasped her boots in its jaws, and dragged them to her.
"You’re not a normal wolf." Since she couldn’t win an argument with a figment of her imagination, Karen fumbled her socks on, then the boots. While she laced them up, the wolf let out a soft whine. "Okay, okay. I know when I’m not wanted."
The wolf gave her a look and rubbed its great head against her bare leg. Then pushed her pack closer with its muzzle.
"So you don’t mind my company, but you still want me to haul ass out of here." Karen picked up her backpack and strapped it on. She grimaced as she rotated her shoulders under the weight. "Fine. I’m going."
The wolf moved ahead of her on the trail, leading the way. Twilight had crept up on her. She’d stayed out later than she’d meant to. Her animal guide hurried and worried her all the way to her car, and then it kept to the shadows while she took out her keys, lowered the backpack, unlocked her trunk and dropped it in.
She closed the lid with a thunk, then opened the driver’s side door. Habit made her scan the interior of the car for hidden dangers. Satisfied that no knife-wielding psychopath hid behind her seat, Karen gave the wolf a wave. "I made it. Everything’s fine. You can go now."
It let out a snarl that turned her blood to ice and launched itself towards her. No, not towards her, she realized, past her. Whirling to put her back to the car, Karen saw the wolf putting itself between her and the looming figures of three men.
