Running Scared

• BJ Woolfe, Grade 8, Wingham High School
• Short Story
• 2014

Excellence Award in the 'Write As Rain 2014' competition

Time was running out. I had to get to the other side, before the wolves traced my scent. I could hear them, but where were they? My eyes were stinging and gritty with the slapping of the twigs against my face. I hope I was heading in the right direction. I had to keep going. My heart was pounding and my head was aching. Suddenly, I could hear a chilling scream. Which direction? I stumbled further. I heard the sound again. Had the wolves found Oscar before I had? The screams seemed closer. I headed right at the fork of the old bush track. I had never been this far before. My mouth was dry. My body ached.
The trees in the distance looked like lurking ghosts with their leaves rustling in the breeze. I couldn't hear the screams any more. Was I too late? Which way was I to go? The wolves were on my scent. I had to go on. Amongst the pounding in my head, I thought I could hear the screams again. Yes, it was. Oscar was still alive. I had to make it back to the cave before the leader descended upon me.
Suddenly, the black leader of the pack was in my vision. He had pounced out of nowhere. His teeth were razor sharp, and his fur stood on end. I knew his intentions. I had to act now. I scooped up the tree branch, swinging it wildly. The other wolves were standing, waiting in a ring around us knowing that their leader would have his prize soon. It was hard to see it as the darkness matched the colour of his fur.
Oscar descended from the cave opening, hearing the yelping of the pack. Realising that I was in trouble, he dragged his broken leg somehow, and had to distract the pack. He picked up heavy rocks, throwing them in the opposite direction. Hoping the watchful wolves would investigate. Go, Go!
The full moon had risen, but only streaks of light fell through the canopy of the trees. The wolves chased the sounds that were hitting the leafy floor. There was only one chance to get it right. The rock hit the front of the leader's damp head, sending the dog hurtling through the air. It picked itself up, ready to pounce. The time in between was enough to pick up the jagged edged branch, like a medieval weapon. All I could see was an animal flying at me through the air, ready for his final attack.
I swung the branch across his face, his snout seeping with blood, his teeth shattered and its eyes dazed for the moment. I managed to somehow gather my senses and headed in the direction of the cave. I was hoping that the injuries to the dog was enough to secure the distance between us.
I stumbled to the cave entrance. Hiding behind the rock face, silent and still. Oscar was not there! A cold sweat gathered on my brow. I could hear the distant howl of the wolves, which were gathered around their injured leader. Then it was quiet-too quiet.
How was I going to find Oscar in the darkness of the night? The moon like streaky lightning was the only guide I had. I felt my way back in the direction that I had come. I called softly. I could hear him. I had found him, now unaware. I used all my strength to get him back to the cave.
The cave in the eerie dark was a welcome reprieve. We would have to wait until dawn. Would anyone find us? Time was running out!