The Wolf Wars Saga
Author
Michelle Torlot
Reads
7.9M
Chapters
34
From the author of Choose Me or Lose Me.
I am nothing. As a Human Worker, I am worth less than dirt. We’re all going to starve anyway. The wolves, the Elites, they hoard all their food, we get moldy leftovers. Not anymore for me. I’m crossing that border and finding a better life, into the wolf world. I have to…
Age Rating: 18+
Chapter 1
Ellie
I was perched on an overturned tree trunk, my gaze lost in the distance. The sun was low, not quite ready to set, casting a beautiful glow over everything.
“Ell, what the hell are you doing?”
I glanced up to find my older brother, Jackson, towering over me.
“You’re dangerously close to the border...you know the rules,” he chided.
I rolled my eyes and returned my gaze to the horizon.
“Don’t even consider it, Ell. They’ll punish you for even contemplating it, and you’ll be on half rations for a month,” Jackson cautioned.
I rolled my eyes again, “half of nothing is still nothing.”
Jackson nudged my shoulder.
“Here, I know you’re hungry,” he said, a smirk playing on his lips.
I looked at his hand. My mouth dropped open in surprise. It was some sort of processed food. We never ate that, hell, I’d never even seen anything like it before.
“Wh...What is it? Where did you get it?” I whispered, my eyes fixed on the wrapper in his hand.
He split it in half and handed me one piece, popping the other half into his mouth.
“It’s called Choc-o-late,” he pronounced the word carefully, “and if you don’t know, you can’t get into trouble.”
I quickly started to eat it, savoring the sweet taste. It was so good!
I laughed, “and you scold me just for looking over the border.”
Jackson shook his head.
“That’s different. If the guards find you, they’ll shoot you on sight.
“If they find you...” he gestured towards the horizon, “well, God only knows what’ll happen to you...if the rumors are true,” he finished.
I shook my head and pressed my lips together.
“They have more food than they know what to do with, and we...we have none. Their animals eat better than us.”
I fought back the tears that were threatening to spill. I was grateful that Jackson didn’t notice my distress.
Jackson chuckled. “They're animals, Ell.”
I rolled my eyes as I finished the last of the snack. My stomach still felt hollow, but the chocolate bar had helped.
Jackson placed his hand on my shoulder.
“C’mon, let's head back before we’re missed. You need to get some sleep, get those crazy ideas out of your head.”
I stood up and let my brother guide me back to the work camp.
We would be up at dawn, tearing down what was left of the town nearest the border. Then the bulldozers would come in. After that, we’d pick out the rocks before they tried to plow and plant it.
It wasn’t proper farmland. It was the remains of an old town, too close to the border to be inhabited. Besides, food was scarce.
If there was a chance that they could grow any food, it had to be taken.
It had been like this all my life, and most of my parents' lives. After the war, the humans got the cities and towns. The werewolves got the forests and plains.
You only had to look over the border to see grazing cattle, orchards of fruit, fields full of crops.
Towns were all very well, but you couldn’t grow food there. The only spaces were the man-made parks. They had already been used for growing food. There just wasn’t enough.
The only reason my brother and I survived when our parents died was because of the work camps.
You worked twelve hours, you got one meal. If you could call it a meal. Vegetable stew which was more water than vegetables, and a bed.
If you got caught stealing food, it was an instant death sentence. Crossing the border was the same. If the werewolves didn’t kill you, the guards would.
Life for humans was a living hell. It had to be worth the risk, to cross the border, steal some food, and bring it back.
If we didn’t find a way to get more food, the human race would die of starvation.
We got a few suspicious looks from the guards as we headed back into camp. We just kept our heads down. Once we were back in the blockhouse where the beds were, we headed to our bunks.
Mostly families slept together. If you were on your own, you got lumped with either the males or the females. Depending on your gender. I guess my brother and I were lucky, we had each other.
I laid down on the bunk, and Jackson sat on the edge of the bed. He always did that, until I fell asleep.
“Do you think they know we’re virtually starving to death?” I whispered.
Jackson frowned, “Who?”
I hesitated, before I lowered my voice, “The werewolves.”
Jackson shook his head and scowled.
“Just drop it, Ellie. You shouldn’t even be talking about ’em.”
I sighed and closed my eyes.
I knew Jackson only had my best interests at heart, but I was damned if I was going to starve to death, or die of some disease because my body wasn’t strong enough to fight it off.
Sleep eventually came, but it didn’t last long. The gnawing pains in my stomach due to lack of food woke me.
Everyone else was still sleeping, except for Jackson, who to my surprise wasn’t in his bunk.
I thought of the chocolate bar we had shared earlier. Was he stealing food? How could he be so reckless? Then my thoughts turned to the border. If I was going to do this, it would have to be now.
Jackson would understand. There were fewer guards posted at night. I could slip across the border and slip back. Find a hiding place for the food. Then my brother and I could share it.
Desperate times called for desperate measures, and I was desperate. Everyone was. We were literally starving to death. I doubted everyone was, but we were the lowest in the human race.
The lower-level manual workers. We were disposable.
I swung my legs over the bed and quickly pulled my long dark hair into a ponytail. Then I grabbed a small backpack from under the bed before creeping out of the blockhouse.
My clothes were dark, so I was able to hide in the shadows. I was thankful for my hair color, as it blended in the dark. Only the moon lighting the way.
I’d been plotting this for some time. I knew the guards’ routine like the back of my hand. They always followed the same path, patrolling the camp’s edges and the boundary.
I watched as one guard moved to the camp’s far end, heading for the boundary.
I stayed hidden in the shadows until the boundary guard moved on to his next station.
Thankfully, the boundary wasn’t a fence. It was just a line of painted rocks. Everyone knew not to cross that line. But tonight, I was going to break the rules. Tonight, I was going to find some food.
Crossing the boundary was simpler than I’d anticipated. The guards probably didn’t think anyone would dare to cross.
After all, most of the people in the blockhouse were kids, who’d been taught from a young age.
The rules, the punishments, and most importantly, that the werewolves were monsters who feasted on babies.
We were all orphans. Parents had died from the fever, or from hunger. Some had been killed by the guards, just for trying to steal some extra food for their kids.
Our parents had succumbed to the fever. This had been my life for four years. Worked until I was on the brink of collapsing. Jackson was older than me, and stronger.
This was his last year here, then I would be alone. Jackson would be sent off for guard training, unless he went AWOL. I wondered if his nightly disappearances had something to do with that.
He didn’t know that I knew he left at night, but I did. I just didn’t know where he went.
The ground on the other side of the boundary was similar to ours, hard clay that was tough to dig into. I guessed it was mixed with concrete.
Once you were about a hundred yards in, the hard clay turned loamy, then you could see plants breaking through. Mostly weeds, but then it turned to lush grass.
I bent down and ran my fingers across it. I’d never felt grass before. I’d seen pictures when I was little, but never felt it, or smelled it. It had a unique scent.
I couldn’t help but smile to myself. My father always used to lecture us, when he was alive. “The grass is always greener on the other side,” he would say.
Meaning that we should be grateful for what we had. Truth was, the grass was nonexistent where we came from.
I moved deeper into the werewolf territory. Staying low, and as silent as I could be.
Jackson didn’t know, but I had seen these so-called monsters. The last building we had cleared, I had found a book and a pair of binoculars.
I’d tucked the binoculars in my jacket and was looking at the book. The guards didn’t find the binoculars, but I got beaten later that day for taking an unscheduled break.
It had only been five minutes, but rules were rules. If they’d found the binoculars, it would have been much worse.
I’d used them a few days later, after work. The guards were at a different station, but it was still light.
That’s when I saw them. They were working in the fields. They didn’t look any different from us, except they were taller, more muscular.
Why were we supposed to hate them? Were they really any different from us?
That’s when I decided I would cross. They had plenty of food, we had none. They didn’t look like monsters, at least not from a distance.
There was no sign of them now, of course. Any sane person, werewolf or human, would be in bed at this hour.
I moved deeper into their territory, then I saw it in the distance: a structure. It looked like a barn. It was quite close to a pen filled with animals.
I quickly looked around; there was no sign of anyone, so I headed towards the structure.
I had been right in my assumption: it was a barn. I slid open the door, letting the moonlight filter inside.
I almost let out a cheer. I had hit the jackpot. There were bags of fruit and vegetables, also a box with what looked like stale bread. I grabbed an apple and bit into it.
I’d never eaten an apple before, but I’d seen a picture. The inside was brown and soft in places. It tasted good.
I grabbed handfuls and put them in my backpack, between finishing the apple that I had started. Then I grabbed some of the stale bread. It was hard, not soft like it should be, but it wasn’t moldy.
I ate some. It wasn’t as nice as the apple, but beggars couldn’t be choosers.
The vegetables looked like carrots. Some were small, others misshapen. I bit into one. Nothing wrong with that. I put a few in my backpack, which was now full to the brim.
Hitching it on my back, I grabbed another apple and piece of bread, and headed for the door.
That’s when I heard it: a howl, followed by another.
I ran, my heart about to burst out of my chest. I headed back towards the boundary.
