The Wolf Came on Christmas (Johanna and Alexander) novel Chapter 93

Chapter 93-1

Rex insisted that we stay hidden in the woods while he moved as close as possible to my house to inspect it; but Alexander revoked his order with a much better bet: his white hair would help him blend with the snow, and he could approach without being detected. Faced with the obvious advantage, the provisional “alpha” had to give in. I took Andre and crouched with him behind a fallen log along with Nika; Agent Aguilera stood behind a tree, watching.

The firefighters were leaving when we arrived, and Alexander thought it was wise to move in

then.

Something that was already very noticeable was the obvious lack of vehicles. There were no cars left anywhere nearby: not the truck riddled with bullet holes, not the overturned one, nor the one I had sheltered in when Álvaro attacked the house. Had Luke taken care of that, so no one would ask inconvenient questions? I prayed with all my strength that he had.

About twenty meters separated us from the boundary of my property, but from where we were we could clearly see that, in fact, the chimney was the only thing left intact. Blackened with soot, it rose among the smoking remains of the roof collapsed over everything else. I realized the gas tank had blown too, and so had the garage beside it, and there was a huge black void where the boiler’s metal flue should have been.

It looked like the set of a war movie after a bombing, and seeing it filled me with rage.

Andre burrowed into me; maybe he had felt my distress. I kissed his cheek and noticed his skin was quite warm, which made me feel better. But I couldn’t stop the tears from gathering in my eyes, nor the dark feelings that quickly swirled inside me. What was I going to do? I no longer had a home; the only thing more or less still standing was the tool shed. I felt even sadder thinking that Walter had been trapped in the garage. I felt like crying-my mind didn’t want to say the words, but I was almost sure my cat had perished when everything blew apart. I couldn’t hold it in anymore, and although I stayed silent, I felt the sharp cold of tears running down my cheeks.

My reaction unsettled Andre, but I begged him not to make any noise. Nika looked at us. She simply looked at us. Thankfully, she didn’t say anything. I don’t know what I would have answered.

Alexander came back to us after a few minutes and confirmed what we already knew: it was very likely the authorities would classify the explosion as the result of a malfunctioning gas valve, because all traces of gunpowder had disappeared in the fire-although he could still smell them. According to him, the blast could have been caused by a single stick of dynamite placed next to the gas tank; but without Richie’s nose, he couldn’t identify the substances scattered in the air and in the charred materials. Rex later added that the Australian

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colleague had training in that kind of thing, and he could have figured it all out in seconds.

“Then why did it take him so long to detect the gunpowder? Gunpowder isn’t dynamite,” I

know I said.

Alexander looked at me, troubled.

“…the smell of gunpowder’ is the residue of the burned compound, the smoke from its combustion. You’ll notice a sharp, acrid odor,” he finally told me-and that was the only part I understood of his technical explanation about the explosives that had destroyed my house and nearly my life. He began his rant by saying it was possible the dynamite stick had been wrapped with a package of gunpowder in some kind of homemade bomb. “Trinitrotoluene is very different. A single charge is enough. But they had to get close to place it, near the tank. I suspect they were hidden, waiting for us, when they detonated the charge. You saw what they did with Andre a while ago. The cabin’s gas and electrical systems did the rest, spreading the blast line; and it also helped a lot that your house was practically fuel for flames…”

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Just as Rex had wagered, sleet began to fall.

The temperature dropped sharply and a bit of wind picked up, cutting me to the bone. Perfect weather to be by a fireplace with hot chocolate-and not out there freezing…

It happened when we were maybe an hour from reaching the sawmill, but the sky had already grown so dark it felt like we were walking in twilight. The forest was dense in that area, and we detoured around several small frozen ponds, which delayed us even more. On top of that,

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Rex insisted we move cautiously, because the cats’ scent was in the air, and Alexander confirmed it. There were claw marks on some trunks, fresh blood. We didn’t know what to do with the discovery-it was obvious the blood belonged to Álvaro, since he was badly wounded, and that only told us he too had headed toward the sawmill. After thinking it over for a moment, and invoking his status as “provisional alpha,” Rex declared that we would stop and wait.

I honestly wanted to throw a rock at him. Stop, in that horrible weather?!

It was clear no one liked the idea, but neither were they going to turn back. What surprised me most at that moment was the fact that Alexander wasn’t the first to suggest we go somewhere else. He continued supporting Nika’s idea of heading straight to what could very well be the felines’ hideout, and I think Rex realized it was a mistake-but he also wanted to go. The phone was still the main argument in favor, along with the possibility of being warm in an enclosed place. Alexander’s argument, even if no one dared to say it out loud, was his desire to finish off the cats with his own hands. That much was clear. Still, if anyone had suggested finding another refuge, I would have been the first to support it.

It was more obvious than ever-we were heading straight toward the enemy, and no one cared much anymore.