From The Mists Of Wolf Creek. Rebecca Brandewyne

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      But then her mother had died, and everything had changed.

      Maybe because she resembled her dead mother so much, she had been a painful reminder to her grandmother of their mutual loss. Perhaps that was why it had appeared Gram could no longer bear the sight of her and so had packed her off to the care of Great-Aunts Agatha and Edith. If that were indeed the case, Gram’s action would at least be understandable, if not particularly kind. Still, however plausible, this rationale did not seem at all in keeping with what Hallie recalled of her grandmother’s joyous, generous nature. Nor did it explain why, in the end, Gram had willed her the farm.

      But what other reason could there have been?

      Hallie did not know, but one of the main reasons she was now returning to Wolf Creek and Meadowsweet was to try to find out. Her grandmother was dead and buried now, so could no longer keep her away, and surely, by leaving her the farm, Gram had intended that she come home at long last, anyway.

      Because she was so lost in her thoughts, it was only at the last moment that from the corner of her eye, Hallie glimpsed the streak of dark fur that suddenly shot across the highway unwinding endlessly before her. Abruptly jolted from her reverie, she instinctively slammed on the brakes to avoid hitting the animal. In response, her small red vehicle screeched along the road, tires burning rubber and laying skid marks, before coming to such a bone-jarring stop that she felt certain she would have a bruise later from the seat belt she wore.

      Ahead of her, in the middle of the highway, stood the largest wolf Hallie had ever seen.

      As a child, she had often spied the animals, which had given Wolf Creek its name. But this one was unquestionably uncommon—and not only in size. For it was almost wholly black in color, with only a little silver-gray around its face, and as it stared hard at her, she saw that in a rare but recognized twist of genetics, it had retained the gleaming blue eyes with which all wolf cubs were born, but that normally turned golden in adulthood. A thin but visible jagged scar ran downward across its left cheek, as though the animal had survived some long-ago, hand-to-paw battle with a hunter and, for its defiance, been knifed during the desperate struggle.

      Hallie felt strangely mesmerized by the beast’s gaze, unable to tear her eyes away. Oddly, despite its obvious size and strength, the wolf did not initially appear menacing to her. But that was before, without warning, gathering its powerful muscles, it lunged toward her, abruptly leaping onto the hood of the car and pressing its muzzle against the windshield to peer in at her.

      The unexpected weight and action of the animal jolted the vehicle violently, causing it to rock briefly and Hallie first to scream and then to catch her breath in her throat as she wondered if the beast were capable of somehow shattering the safety glass in order to attack her. Ludicrously, in some dim corner of her mind, she also hoped the wolf’s hard, sharp toenails had not scratched the car.

      The disjointed, upsetting thoughts that raced through her brain were joined by others equally unnerving. At this moment, the only weapon of any kind she possessed was the sturdy LifeHammer she carried in the glove compartment, in order to break the vehicle’s windows in the event that she should ever have an accident that caused the car to become submerged in water. Still, she doubted the emergency tool would prove much use in defending her against the animal that loomed over her, panting against the windshield, its pink tongue lolling and its fierce canine teeth showing almost unnaturally white in the pallid, glimmering light that waned toward dusk.

      Inside the car, Hallie could hear the sound of her own breath, now coming harsh and fast, and feel her heart hammering in her breast as she pondered her predicament. She had heard of bears climbing on vehicles and threatening their occupants, but she could not remember any news reports of wolves resorting to such behavior, and so she was at a loss as to how to proceed.

      On sudden impulse, she blasted the horn, hoping to startle the animal and send it on its way. But much to her dismay, her thoughtless action did not seem to have any effect, and belatedly, it occurred to her that the sound might only enrage the beast, inciting it into attempting to destroy the thin glass barrier that was all that separated the two of them.

      As her wide, apprehensive green eyes continued to be riveted on the wolf, Hallie could see that behind it in the distance, the thunderstorm that had earlier massed on the horizon was now beginning to roll inexorably eastward, its ponderous dark gray clouds billowing and spreading like giant, smothering cotton boles across the land. In between the titanic, madding clouds, the last vestiges of the pale, sickly sunlight shimmered, thin bony fingers stretching toward her portentously before mutely evanescing, swallowed by the descending twilight and advancing storm.

      At the sight, Hallie felt her heart sink. She had hoped to be safely ensconced at Meadowsweet before the storm broke. Now perhaps she would not reach the farm at all.

      Still watching the predatory animal hulking on the hood of the car, she covertly unlatched the glove compartment and groped inside for the LifeHammer. She knew that because the windshield was laminated glass, the emergency tool would not smash it. Rather, it was designed to break the tempered glass of the side windows to effect escape.

      Nevertheless, she had some vague notion that if she beat authoritatively on the windshield, the beast might mistakenly believe she was not only armed, but also quite capable of defending herself, and would move on.

      That, instead, it might perceive her gesture as a threat and try to attack her through the glass, Hallie did not even want to consider.

      Nor did she even think about stamping on the accelerator and speeding away. Whether such a result would actually occur, she worried that the impetus of that act might fling the massive wolf savagely against the windshield, shattering it, thus giving the animal access to the inside of the vehicle and causing her to run off the road, at the very least.

      She did have her cell phone with her and knew she could call the highway patrol for help. But what if dispatch did not believe her? Even as she tried to envision how to explain her situation, Hallie recognized how wild and improbable it would sound to someone not actually present to witness it.

      She might be dismissed as some teenager pulling a silly prank.

      Further, even if her story were given any credence, the animal would surely be gone by the time the highway patrol managed to arrive.

      No, she was literally on her own. This particular stretch of road was desolate in more ways than one, without even another car in sight.

      After rummaging blindly through the glove compartment for what seemed like minutes but, in reality, could only have been seconds, Hallie found the LifeHammer at last. As her fingers closed around it, they trembled with the fear that coursed through her wildly, and a lump rose in her throat, choking her. With determination, she swallowed this last.

      Then, grasping the emergency tool tightly, she raised her fist, poised to strike the windshield, in an attempt to scare off the predatory beast.

      At that, much to her utter surprise and confusion, its carnivorous visage pressing so close to her own vulnerable one through the glass split into what, in a human being, Hallie could only have described as a wide grin.

      Then, just as suddenly as it had sprung onto the hood of the Mini, the great black wolf leaped down, swiftly and silently disappearing into the oncoming darkness and storm.

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