Miles Away from Home, page 1
Published by EVERNIGHT PUBLISHING ® at Smashwords
www.evernightpublishing.com
Copyright© 2024 Maria Mercurio
ISBN: 978-0-3695-0954-3
Cover Artist: Jay Aheer
Editor: Lisa Petrocelli
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED
WARNING: The unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is illegal. No part of this book may be used or reproduced electronically or in print without written permission, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in reviews.
This is a work of fiction. All names, characters, and places are fictitious. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
DEDICATION
This book is dedicated to my friends and family that have been so wonderfully supportive on my writing journey. Thank you for helping me to realize my dream.
MILES AWAY FROM HOME
Survival, 3
Maria Mercurio
Copyright © 2024
This isn’t a sweet love story. We don’t often get happily ever after. What defines our character is what we do with the crappy hand we are dealt. Who do we become after the dreams are stripped away?
This is a story about survival.
Chapter One
Twenty-Five Years Ago
“Miles!” My mother’s raspy yell caused me to jump out of my skin. “Miles, get your ass in here,” she screeched.
My little brother’s eyes went wide at her summons. He gnawed on his thumb and looked to be on the verge of tears. I put my finger over my lips, urging him to be quiet. He nodded mutely. Winking, I mussed up his hair. A quick reassurance was all I had time to offer. Even though I was only three years older than Tate, I felt it was my job to care for him. He was small for four, and no one in our family was kind to a runt. We had two older brothers that made sure to remind him of this fact daily.
I dragged my feet a bit approaching my ma. Figuring out how not to make her angry was a puzzle. As far as alphas were concerned, she was the scariest, Daddy almost seemed cuddly in comparison. She wasn’t an overly large woman, my daddy had a good hundred pounds of muscle on her. Her frame could best be described as slightly skeleton-like. She wasn’t physically intimidating, but there was a fierceness to her that made even the unsuspecting cringe if she happened to glance at them. Her ability to hold a grudge was legendary—it set her apart from any other alpha I’d ever met. Most alphas led a pack with a sense of obligation for the members. Not my momma. She ruled through fear and intimidation. Once on her bad side, there wasn’t a way back. Ever.
Momma was looking out the kitchen window toward the front yard when I reached her. I held my breath rather than announce my presence. She looked pissed. Her fingers drummed out an angry thump on the chipped tile countertops. She was sucking down a cigarette and blowing out smoke like an angry dragon. “Good riddance,” she muttered in a barely audible rumble.
Realizing she wasn’t speaking to me, I glanced out the window to see what had her riled up. “Where’s Tika going?” I asked before I could stop myself. Our pack’s omega was stuffing three duffle bags in the back seat of a banana-yellow VW Beetle. She looked up and caught my eye when she shut the door. The smile she gave me was wobbly as she rubbed her watery eyes with the back of a fiercely shaking hand. My heart hurt seeing her sad. A middle-aged woman sat calmly in the driver’s seat, elbow hanging out the window, sunglasses askew in her dark-brown hair as she stared without blinking at my mother. I’d seen her before. This was another alpha! An alpha that was taking away the woman that raised me. The only person in this entire pack that watched out for Tate and me.
Without thinking, I started to run to stop her. My mother’s wiry arm shot out and her hand clawed into my shoulder. “If the bitch wants to leave us, let her.”
“No, Momma, the full moon is only two days away. Who’s gonna take care of Tate? We can’t leave him alone.” I struggled to take a breath. Fear tore at my insides. “Why’s she leaving us?” I almost started crying. Omegas didn’t leave their packs, not when there were children too young to make the change.
My mother crushed out her cigarette in the sink while her other hand’s iron grip kept me from moving an inch. The cloying scent of smoke and heavy perfume made me queasy. My momma rarely touched me except for the occasional scuff on the back of the head. I couldn’t remember a time that being close to her didn’t result in pain. Tika was the hugger. Tika was the one that blew on your scuffed knees and sang you a lullaby if she found you huddled under blankets unable to brave the night. Things I knew deep down I would never experience again once she left.
An engine revved, followed by the crunch of tires backing up on our gravel driveway. The thought of her leaving without saying goodbye had me seeing red. “What did you do? She wouldn’t leave me and Tate like this!” I screamed.
“Watch your mouth, boy. I don’t have to explain shit to you.” She shook me a bit before letting go. I stumbled back hitting the kitchen table. My hands curled into fists, but I kept my head down and avoided eye contact. It was never wise to take an alpha head on.
“Where’s Daddy?” I mumbled swallowing any angry inflections in my tone. Generally, my father wasn’t a person I would go to for solving a problem. I tried to lay low and avoid him as much as possible. Yet, if Momma wasn’t going to do anything about Tika leaving, he was the only one who might.
“He’s off stopping that damn social worker from coming on our property. No thanks to you.” Her stormy grey eyes pinned me in place. “Or Tika.” The fight went out of me hearing that. I understood what all this was about now.
A few months back Tika started taking Tate with us to our weekly library visits. We were homeschooled, changing into wolves every month made it hard to attend public school. Tika thought it was time to teach Tate to read. I was thrilled he would be coming with us, my baby brother was my best friend. The days when we left him home were always tough on Tate. The other kids in the pack were bigger, older, and bullied him. Most likely they got a rush out of tormenting an alpha’s son. Especially since the few times he complained or cried, my mother gave him a proper beating for showing weakness.
Tate was a blanket of bruises on his best day. The crinkly white-haired librarian never said a word to us, but she watched Tate come in each week. A month later a nice lady in a cheap grey suit started showing up. She had skin the color of gingerbread and I swear she smelled like fresh-baked cookies. Her frizzy hair was pulled back into a tight bun with pencils jutting out. She would offer one to Tate when he was practicing making his letters using only his fingers. My little brother was a shy one, but this lady’s bright smile had him pulling up a chair and sitting beside her. I should have kept better watch on him. I didn’t think this kind woman could or would do us any harm. Last week she cornered Tika:
“I’m his nanny. I’ve never seen anything bad happen.” I heard Tika speaking as I finished putting away my books in the stacks. I turned the corner to see her shaking her head in denial and holding up her hands looking scared.
“He looks malnourished and severely abused.” The bun lady folded her arms across her chest. “I realize this is your employer, but surely the welfare of the child is paramount.”
I wasn’t sure exactly what she was saying, but I got the gist that it was about Tate. This lady was worried about him. I looked around and saw he was off playing on the rug with some human kids. The old librarian had put out toys for story time.
“I’m sorry,” Tika whispered back. “I don’t have anything to say.” The omega noticed me standing nearby. “Miles, go get your brother. It’s time to go home.”
****
“None of that was Tika’s fault!” I protested.
My mother huffed out an aggravated breath. “Sure as shit is. She should have known better. Never trust the humans. Why I expected better from her, I have no idea. She can’t even shift. She’s not truly one of us. It was useful to have her around to watch those of you too young for the change, but we don’t need her reject kind anymore.”
“What about Tate? He’s only four. It’s at least a year before he joins us.” I looked down the hallway hoping he couldn’t hear.
My mother followed my stare. She pursed her lips in disgust. “Yup, he’s going to be a problem we need to get rid of. That’s why I called for you.”
My stomach soured as if I drank acid. “What … what do you mean?” I stuttered.
“If we leave him here alone when the change happens and the social worker comes sniffing around again, it will be cops to deal with. Pack’s big enough. We can afford to lose the runt.” She stared back down at me expectantly.
“No. Tate’s your son. You can’t mean that.” I took an involuntary step back.
She angled her head assessing me. “I’d have your brothers take him into the woods, but they’d be cruel. Sending you with him would be a kindness.” I stood in complete shock while my mother laid out a plan to get rid of my baby brother. “Pack some food and a sleeping bag. Hike until he can’t figure his way home. When you change in two nights, your wolf will know to join up with the pack. After we change back, we’ll go back and look for him.” She shrugged as if it was no big deal what she asked.
“In the woods! All alone? He could die…” Tears flooded my cheeks at the thought.
My mother pinched my face, her thumb on my cheekbone, her palm covering my mouth, and her fingernails piercing my other cheek. Effectively silencing any further pr
otests I could utter. She leaned in close, eyes narrowed to slits. “He will have food and shelter. If he’s too weak to survive three nights outside during the summer, then he isn’t fit for this pack.” She loomed over me. I could feel her certainty. She believed this was the right thing to do. The pack bonds sung with conviction. This would protect the pack. She let go of me suddenly and straightened up. “Go on before it gets dark. Find a spot by water. That will make it easier for him.”
“I can’t.” Panic gripped me knowing I wouldn’t change her mind.
“Then I’ll ask your brother Scott to take him.”
Scott was fourteen and the eldest. He was also slightly crazy. Tate was terrified of him. Scott liked to threaten Tate by pinning him down and putting a lighter near his hair. Flicking it on and off, on and off. He only released our brother the last time because poor Tate peed his pants in fear of being burned, and Scott didn’t want to get any piss on him.
“I’ll do it.” I choked out the words, feeling sick.
My mother nodded like it had been a forgone conclusion. “That’s my boy.”
Chapter Two
Twenty-Five Years Ago
I did exactly what my mother asked me to do, until I couldn’t. I did pack up food. I did get sleeping bags, a change of clothes, and a flashlight. I left the house knowing it might be the last time being with Tate. What I couldn’t do was take my baby brother deep in the woods and hope he would survive in the wild, alone, at four years old. Instead, I did a thing I never thought to have the courage to do. I stole twenty dollars from my daddy and walked us seven miles to the nearest bus stop. Tate was dragging after mile two, his little legs half the size of mine, but there was no way I would coddle him. We needed to make it to the bus bench before five or my entire plan would be ruined.
I checked my neon-green plastic digital wristwatch for, like, the hundredth time. “Come on now! We’re almost there. Bus is coming in twenty.” I reached back to take his clammy hand in mine.
“It’s so hot, Miles,” he whined. “Can’t you give me any more water?”
I jerked the pack from my shoulders and pulled out the thermos. The water was lukewarm, but Tate gulped it down like it was a slushy. “That’s enough,” I grunted. “You’re going to get a cramp and walk even slower.”
“Where are we going? Where’s Tika?” These same questions had been pretty much on repeat for almost two hours.
“I told you, Tika is gone and that means there is no one to take care of you. We have to get you away from the house.” I kept walking, but this time Tate didn’t follow dutifully behind me. “Dang it, Tate. There is no time for this!”
“I want Tika!” He slumped on the ground refusing to move.
I leaned over and yanked him up with more force than I’d ever used before. His eyes crinkled in fear. He shrank away from me expecting to be hit. It burned me up, but there was only one way to get him on that bus. “Listen to me, runt. Tika left us.”
“You’re lying! Omegas don’t leave packs. They don’t stop loving us and walk away!” He sniffled and rubbed his nose across his sleeve.
“Sometimes the truth isn’t something you can see clearly,” I explained. “Sometimes people have to do things they don’t want to do, but that doesn’t mean they don’t care.”
“I want to go home!”
“Look! The change is coming. Momma thought you’d make a better wolf snack than messing things up at home while we’re away. She told me to get you good and lost. I was feeling bad about it all, but if you’re gonna be a big baby, maybe I should leave you.”
“I’m not a baby,” he seethed glaring at me.
Tate’s angry eyes made me feel awful low, but my words got him to stand. “Well, come on then. See that bench there?” I pointed. “That’s where the bus comes. You can rest till it shows up.”
Tate walked behind me, arms folded over his chest, silent tears streaking down his face. I ignored it all and hoped I read the bus schedule right. My older brothers and I took the bus once a week during the summer to work on a communal farm run by a shifter council. The work wasn’t too hard, we mainly picked berries. They fed us well and we got to take food back to our pack. I liked it mainly for the bus ride. We would stop and pick up kids along the way from other packs, and I could see how others of our kind lived.
One particular pack always drew my attention. The children from that pack never needed to work on the communal farm. That pack was rich and had massive farmlands of their own. The bus always went by their lands and my older brothers would grumble about what a waste that Reds owned it. That was where I was taking Tate now.
I was relieved when I saw the bus approach from the right direction in the distance. We made it! I put my hand on Tate’s shoulder to congratulate him, but he moved away from my touch. His lips were pressed into a tight line and he wouldn’t look at me. I stopped myself before I leaned in to smooth things over. It was better this way. Better to be angry than sad.
Four-year-old curiosity got the better of Tate once we made it on the bus and sat down. The hum of the air-conditioning cooled his temper along with our sweat-soaked bodies. “Where are we going, Miles?”
My daddy always said our mother was relentless. I asked him what it meant. He told me it’s when you never give up. Little Tate might have a bit more of Momma in him than anyone thought. “You’ll see when we get there.”
“Like a surprise?” Tate perked up. “Like a party?”
I scoffed at that. “No, silly. Why would we go to a party?”
He shrugged and bounced repeatedly in his seat. The cool air and the promise of a surprise restored his energy. Pointing out the window every few minutes he repeated a single question over and over. “What’s that?”
I just started making up silly stuff after answering the first ten times. “That’s a dragon. That’s an alien. That’s a flying monkey.”
Tate giggled as he pointed at a tree and called it a “talking rainbow.” It was nice to hear him laugh. He usually stayed quiet in the house, best to not be seen or heard. The drive flew by as we both cracked each other up making believe the plain world outside was filled with craziest things we could dream up.
“Now that,”—I jerked my head as I grabbed our things—“is our stop.”
Tate left the bus in a totally different mood from when he got on. The bus driver winked at us as we waved and hopped out. The summer heat smacked us in the face as soon as we stepped on the asphalt. Both our shoulders slumped as the humid air settled on us, making the burden of walking ten times heavier.
“I don’t want to walk anymore,” Tate gave me puppy eyes. “My feet hurt.”
“I know, bud.” I ruffled his hair. “I’m not keen on walking either. We just need to get to the end of this road.”
Tate squinted down the street trying to see the end of it. “How far?”
“Not sure. Never been,” I confessed.
Tate’s bottom lip trembled. “Why here, then?”
“Here is a new home. That’s the surprise. A better home,” I stated with more conviction than I felt.
“A new home?” A note of wonder accompanied his high-pitched voice.
I nodded and trotted on, afraid he would ask questions I would never be able to answer. Worried I wasn’t doing the right thing. This pack always looked so clean and nice. The kids were close and stuck together like a pack should. Did that mean they would treat Tate the same? Maybe this life would be even worse for him? I shook my head praying the thoughts would jump out and leave me be. This pack had to be better, better than dying in the woods alone at least.
Daddy constantly grumbled about the Reds, saying they were a bunch of bleeding hearts. Momma said they shouldn’t even call themselves wolves and probably were vegetarians. To her, Reds were not tough enough to hurt anything. I was counting on that. Counting on them taking one look at chubby cute little Tate and knowing he was worth keeping. Even if Tate did survive alone in the woods during this change, there would always be the next month and the month after that. This had to be for the best.
