Page 17 of Eclipsed Legacy

The silence is now a little awkward, so I say “Bye,” and we both hang up. Just as I’m about to put my phone down, it starts going off. It’s Ricky, calling me back. “Hey,” I say. “I tried calling you earlier about—”

“Yer car?” Ricky asks.

“Yeah,” I say. “You said you had a friend who worked in a shop?”

Ricky chuckles. “Don’ you worry ‘bout that right now.”

“Ricky, I have to have my car, especially with the full—”

He full on laughs, “Girl, don’ you know I’ve already taken care of it? Bobby drove me to the mall, and we put them tires on yer car. I’m on my way to your house now. You gotta’ give me a ride home, though, but I figur’d you wouldn’ mind that, considerin’.”

My eyes begin to tear up. I’m surprised and grateful and in disbelief. “Ricky, I don’t know what to sa—”

“Don’ get all sappy on me now. We’ve all been through hell, and I told ya’ that I’ve got you, cuz. I’ll be there in a bit, and you best be in ass-kickin’ shape, a’ight?”

I can’t help but laugh through the snot and tears. “Okay, I will,” I say before hanging up. I quickly swap out my sweats for a pair of jeans that are lying on my floor. It’s then I see the hoodie I had worn yesterday. I don’t want to fuck with it right now, but I have to. I take the blood-stained shirt to the kitchen and throw it in my empty sink. I turn off my fire alarm before grabbing a lighter and burning the hoodie. I have to catch it a few times to burn it all until it is unrecognizable. I toss what remains into the trash and rinse out my sink.

I decide it’s a ponytail kind of day and secure my hair back in a scrunchie. I don’t dress up often, anyway. Since today is a full moon, we’ll be walking, so I get a thick pair of socks and pull on my hiking boots. Good enough.

My stomach growls, letting me know I am about as hungry as the wolf, and I chuckle at my own private joke. Such as knee-slapper! My fridge isn’t as stocked as I would like it to be. I start counting back in my head and realize I haven’t been to the grocery store in over two weeks. Scrambled eggs then. There’re five eggs left in my carton, but I figure if I throw some bread in the toaster, I might have enough for both me and Ricky. Even if he’s already eaten, I am sure he could do so again. When Ricky pulls up, I am just turning the stove off and grabbing the Tapatío. I only know it’s him because I’d recognize the hum of my own car anywhere. I open the door before he can bang on it and wake my neighbors.

He doesn’t even say ‘hi,’ just steps past me and says in awe, “You made eggs.” It’s not a question. He walks into my kitchen as if in a trance. “Where’re the plates?”

“Top shelf of the cabinet left of the stove,” I say, then add, as he starts grabbing stuff, “Please, help yourself. I do insist.”

“Thanks,” he says, either not noticing or choosing to ignore the irony in my voice. I hand him some toast from the toaster, then serve myself eggs. We sit at the window bar that connects the kitchen to my tiny living room. The apartment isn’t large enough for a dining room or even a breakfast table, so two stools is all I get. The eggs are delicious, though my taste buds may be lying to me as a result of my hunger. I don’t care, if it’s a lie or not. I devour everything on my plate and race Ricky to the kitchen to get more.

When we’re both finished, he belches right next to me. “Rude,” I say, scrunching up my face in disgust and waving my hand to fan away the smell. “That stinks!” Ricky just shrugs and grins. I shake my head and roll my eyes. What a crude sonofabitch. I decide to cut him some slack. He’s really had my back the last couple of days. “What’s the plan?” I ask.

“Hmm?” he acts confused.

“You told me to be in ‘ass-kickin’ shape,’ so what’s the plan? Whose ass are we kicking?”

Ricky shrugs. “I meant in general,” he says before straightening his back and clearing his throat. “Ya’ got to be in gen-er-al ass kickin’ shape with other pack seekin’ to threatin’ us.”

I can’t tell if he straightened to make a point or if he is just screwing around and making a joke out of the situation. Not knowing how to read him, I nod slowly. “Okay…” He nods back at me. He looks more serious than I have ever seen him, which is ridiculous. “What do you propose we do about this other pack?”

Ricky grins before slapping his hands and rubbing them together. All seriousness gone that quickly. He wiggles his eyebrows, way too excited about this, as he says, “I am so glad you asked! I was thinkin’ we’d ambush ‘em tonight. Think about it; they can’t have anywhere near the numbers we have, so we hit ‘em hard and hit ‘em fast.”

“And how do you propose we do that, exactly?” I am skeptical, to say the least, but I need a solution, or at least a direction to go in. I know we have to buck up against this new pack. Hell, everyone knows that; it’s not a question. The question is how.

“Tonight, they’ll turn. We know that one of their strong hitters has to be a born wolf, not a turned one, since he was able to turn when it wasn’t a full moon, but if there was more than one born-wolf, they would’ve sent more against our alpha and you would’ve smelled—”

“So, we’re hitting them when they’re strong?”

“No— Well, yes, but that’s not the point. Since everyone turns during the full moon, we’ll get a real idea of their numbers. They won’t be able to hide from us. And if the chase lasts until morning, our people can still chase them as wolves while they’re turning back.”

“Ricky, I don’t know for sure that it was just one wolf that attacked Grandma.”

“But you had said it had to be a born wolf—”

“Yes, at least one born wolf since there wasn’t a full moon. But I was so focused on the blood and…” I look down and sigh before looking up apologetically. “I didn’t think at the time to actually stop and smell for different wolves. It could’ve been one or it could’ve been six.”

Ricky stares off at nothing in particular. I know I screwed up, but I can’t fix it. I just hope my lack of diligence hasn’t screwed us or given the other side an even greater advantage. Ricky exhales and shrugs. “They still can’t have our numbers. I say we still try with this plan. I know it’s good. I could lead one group.” Before I can cast doubt, he continues, “Remember that pack that came through three or four years ago?”

I nod and smile, amused. “Yeah, I was thinking about them the other day. What did they call themselves?

Ricky beams, “‘Rabble Pack.’”