Chapter1: I do not own the characters.
Anonymous Poem (translated from Italian)
Each morning, in Africa a Gazelle wakes up.
It knows it better run away from the Lion or it'll be killed.
Each morning, in Africa a Lion wakes up.
It knows it better run after the Gazelle or it'll die of hunger.
When the Sun rises, it does not matter if you are a Gazelle or a Lion you better start to run.
Faith was driving on interstate highway, I-20, when she sharply took the next exit. It was late afternoon as she sped down the off-ramp. Looking for a secluded area, she drove until she found a less populated part of town and by the time she stopped, it was almost sunset. Satisfied with the location, she parked her full-sized red, pickup truck deep in the woods.
Overhead a bird of prey was circling and it screeched a few times. The hawk had been soaring and coasting on the late afternoon, thermal updrafts. As Faith walked to the back of the truck with two travel bags, she glanced up briefly and saw it circling down.
Taking out a travel bag, she started to undress and fold her clothes nonchalantly. Then she took out another travel bag and placed it on the flatbed part of the truck. A sunflower that she cultivated earlier from an abandoned field was draped over the travel bag with the stem carefully tucked underneath the handles. With the remaining sunlight filtering through the leaves, she took out a journal and quickly jotted a few notes. Then a golden hawk landed on the pickup truck hopping to the flatbed part where it finally perched on the edge not far from Faith.
Faith set aside the journal and sat quietly as she paid attention to the bird. It was time again and she waited patiently as it became darker. She couldn't see the sun but she knew instinctively it was time to get ready. It wasn't easy as she looked at the golden hawk and after three years it still wasn't easy. Sometimes she would speak at these moments. Other times she couldn't speak; it was too emotional and it would make her upset so she would sit still and silently gaze at the bird.
Then the hawk came closer and landed on her forearm. Faith could feel the hawk's strength as its talons gripped her. Unafraid she let the bird find its balance. However, the bird was gentle as it perched on Faith's forearm; she only felt a tender squeeze as the hawk balanced itself. Faith put up a brave face for the sake of the bird.
Then Faith relaxed and felt herself change. In the beginning, using her willpower she fought the change but yielded knowing that it was futile. Now all she could do was hold back that impulse and let go, and accept the inevitable. Every time this happened, she tried to remember all these parts but her mind and body would transform so fast she could never retain all the details. Instead, it was more of a blurry dream, which eluded her. Then a moment later, the sun disappeared below the horizon.
Buffy took a deep breath and stretched, and quickly sat up. Shivering in the cold twilight, she hugged herself and took a moment to gain her bearing as she looked at her surroundings. Finding her travel bag, she unzipped it taking out her clothes. As she dressed in the dark, Buffy heard a wolf howl nearby. Untroubled, with a flashlight as a source of illumination, she started to brush her hair as she looked at a small mirror. Putting on an oversized leather coat, she checked to make sure she had her weapons before venturing out. She saw the journal lying nearby and looked at the latest entry.
"So, we're in Texas, now," said Buffy, as she finished reading the journal entry.
Hearing a rustling sound, Buffy turned in that direction and she heard a wolf as it made its way through the fallen leaves and finally saw it approach her. The wolf stopped and studied Buffy for a moment and Buffy did likewise. She could see it was a black wolf and unafraid she started to walk. Then the black wolf caught up and walked beside Buffy as she began to explore the area with the sunflower in her hand.
When Buffy put the last of the shopping bags on the back of the pickup truck it was nearly dawn. It had been an uneventful night when she had scouted this new place and decided to go shopping instead at one of those big box, megastores that was opened 24/7. She hoped this area was not like Louisiana. Longing for a break, they had been on the run from demon bounty hunters as well as busy dealing with vampires in that state. Faith said there were more jobs in Texas and she was right as Buffy placed a few newspapers on the passenger seat.
Feeling the first cold breath of fall, Buffy took out several warm blankets and wrapped them around herself as she sat down on the bed of the truck. She took out few food items and started to have a quick bite to eat. As part of her nightly vigilance, she watched the night sky slowly begin to get lighter and the stars grow fainter. Then the black wolf leapt on the bed and curled up against Buffy, and within moments closed its eyes.
It wouldn't be for another hour and half before the sun would emerge from the horizon. Buffy could already hear the steady breathing of the sleeping wolf and gently ran her fingers through the warm fur. She refrained from hugging the wolf and let it sleep. Instead, she steeled herself and let herself rest, as she lay close against the wolf.
These moments were always the loneliest and hardest for her; it left her miserable. Sometimes Buffy wept other times she held back and cried inside. However, she always had hope even though it hurt inside and it appeared hopeless. When it was a little lighter, she took the journal and started to write. Then on cue, the black wolf opened its eyes and looked at Buffy.
That morning Faith woke up shivering and saw why. A thin layer of frost covered the pickup truck and she snatched several blankets that were lying nearby. Wrapped in blankets, she quickly crawled through the crew cab portion of the truck, and got dressed. She started the pickup truck letting it warm up and began to read the journal. Next to her were newspapers with employment and house rentals circled with a few notes. On the passenger seat, wrapped in a newspaper was a bouquet of autumnal flowers: white Autumn Crocus, Moonflowers, purple-fruited Beauty Berry, and Lilyturf. As Faith ate a cold sandwich, she admired the flowers.
"Thanks B," said Faith, as she sniffed the flowers.
When Faith looked at the potential employment leads, she had a sense of hope. Maybe she could get something more permanent instead of being a day laborer and hopefully they could shake off their pursuers and lead a normal life. Anxious to start her day, she glanced at the morning light as she sipped on some lukewarm coffee courtesy of Buffy.
"You're a godsend, I owe you one," said Faith, as she read a hastily written note from Buffy.
She had an appointment with a jobsite foreman this morning. Last evening Buffy had made a call inquiring about a position at a construction site.
After working a week, it was payday and Faith had received her first paycheck at the jobsite. Too her, it was this sense of accomplishment. She had never been at a job as long as a week let alone earn a paycheck. Admittedly, it was good to earn a steady, income as Faith as privately stashed the cash. While, this physical labor paled to what she was good at least she received a paycheck compared to being a Slayer. However awhile back, she learned a lesson when she took a different path.
One time, Faith had employed another method of getting cash. When Buffy found out, she was angry and disappointed at Faith, so much so she ceased writing her nightly entries. Buffy insisted not to take the easy way out and then cease to communicate with Faith. At first Faith held her ground and insisted she wasn't taking from any particular person but rather from a faceless bank. However, Buffy remained silent. Heartbroken, Faith wrote back pleading for forgiveness and begging her to write back. She couldn't bear the isolation anymore.
Now when Faith worked, she found it passed the time without thinking too deeply of her predicament. She also had to remind herself she had to think in terms of 'us' instead of 'me'. Looking at the blue sky, she wished she could celebrate with Buffy.
"Faith, you're welcome to join us for a drink at the bar later on," said the foreman, as he interrupted Faith's thoughts.
As much as Faith wanted to hang out with the guys and enjoy a drink or two, she couldn't as she glanced at her watch.
"Love to, but I'm still trying to find a place to rent," lied Faith. She knew that would never happen. References and background checks were being used more often to rent a place. "Maybe I'll stop by later."
The foreman understood and didn't give her grief. He had been impressed with Faith's work. She didn't complain when she did all the heavy lifting or move the debris away. It was dirty, backbreaking work.
"Take care, Faith," said the foreman. "See you next week."
A small, wiry man came beside Faith as she entered her pickup truck. "Hey Faith, I hear you're looking for a place to rent."
Faith turned to him. "Yeah Phil I am . . . what's up?"
"I know a place real cheap place; it's super clean," began Phil. "And it's quiet."
Faith considered him for a moment. "I'll think about it."
It's not that she would take him up on his suggestion. In any other circumstances, she would have said yes. But she was in a vulnerable position; she had a hawk to protect.
"If you change your mind I'll be with the gang at Crazy Coyote."
When Faith had finished her errands early, she decided to stop at the Crazy Coyote Saloon. She had time to kill. Moreover, she did not look forward to be alone during the last moments of daylight especially on a crisp, clear fall day. Autumn days had always been her favorite part of the season as she noted changing colors of the leaves.
Outside the on the terrace the work crew were already drinking. Atop the Crazy Coyote perched on a weather vane was a golden hawk. In the afternoon sun, the bird of prey was preening itself. Noticing the bird, Faith tipped her head to the bird. Suddenly on alert, the hawk's keen vision detected motion beyond the parking lot and its fierce eyes focused on the movement. A split second later the hawk took off flying in pursuit of the prey.
Crazy Coyote Saloon was a combination sports bar and grill. Inside large flat screen, TVs were showing sports high lights as she went in. She went inside to catch up on the news but then something her caught her attention. A loud vocal argument had erupted outside.
"What's this all about?" murmured Faith, as she went to investigate.
Cornered against the wall Phil was facing off a few men. Some of the construction guys came next to Phil to back up him and the argument became louder.
"Trouble," muttered Faith as she stepped outside and assessed the situation. "Can't even have a drink in peace," announced Faith in a loud voice.
"Faith?" asked one of the strangers. "If isn't Faith Lehane . . . Didn't know ya made in the lonestar state? There was rumor you survived the gator farm *accident*; no hard feelings I hope."
"You're lucky you're on that side of the bar. You should crawl back the under rock where come from you murderous knuckle dragger."
Instead of responding, he threw a beer bottle at Faith but she ducked in time.
Then it became a mad house, as the brawl broke loose with Faith in the thick of it. She found Phil being pounded by one of the thugs and kicked him in the ass sending him sprawling to the ground. She pulled Phil away from the fight and told to him to get. Tables were upended and chairs were hurled as the brawl escalated.
"Faith, watch out!" shouted Phil.
Blindsided, Faith was sucker punched in the face and was sent sliding across a table.
By the time she got up, she saw the golden hawk do a nosedive and then at the last moment displayed its talons before it struck the interlopers. While the hawk kept swooping down, Faith kicked and punched her way through the knot of fighters. Then she heard what sounded like police sirens and quickly made off to her truck.
"Hey Faith wait up. . . please," said Phil, as he ran after Faith. "I could use lift."
"Come on hurry," said Faith. Without thinking twice, Phil threw his duffle bag in the truck and jumped in.
The hawk continued to plunge down again into the fray and then it soared away following the red pickup truck.
"What was all that about?" asked Faith, as she wiped her cut lip.
"Hmm . . . I'm kinda in trouble."
"Yeah that's obvious!" said Faith, as she drove fast on a side street. "What else?"
When Phil clammed up and didn't say a word, Faith slammed on the brakes and then grabbed him. She didn't have time for this.
"I want the truth or else I'm throwing you out . . . right here." Looking aghast Phil, saw a deep ditch.
"Okay, okay I'm a thief," began Phil. "Not long ago I pick pocketed what I thought were nobodies. I didn't know they were big time criminals honest. If I'd known I wouldn't have. These criminals are connected to the underground . . . quite a hellhole."
"Yeah . . . go on."
"That place is kinda of hellish. I found it by accident when I squeezed into the drains as I was escaping. It was a miracle that I made it out," shuddered Phil, as he recalled the slimy ordeal. "They're strange folk underground. Not normal looking."
Faith sat back and contemplated her situation.
"How do you know these thugs?" asked Phil cautiously.
Faith ignored him and began to drive again, and began to think of an escape plan. But there was no time for that. The sun was low already with light filtering through the autumn leaves. Just when she and Buffy thought they were ahead something or someone throws them off. She hated being put in this kind of jam without the time to react and now started to wonder about the golden hawk.
Up above in the blue sky the golden hawk was following the red pickup truck, 'Big Red'. As it soared over the autumn forest, the hawk streamlined its body aerodynamically by maneuvering its wings and tail feathers to conserve energy. When Big Red popped in and out of view on the county road, the hawk adjusted its flight as it tracked the truck's movements.
With Big Red parked discreetly parked behind a few trees hidden from view, Phil walked around to survey his surroundings. He was about to start up a conservation with Faith but abstained when could he tell by her demeanor that said, don't talk to me now.
Without saying much, Faith quickly settled to her late afternoon routine. Phil offered to help but Faith couldn't be bother; she didn't have much time. While he wasn't offended he was curious about Faith as he pitched his tent. He also could sense a frantic urgency on Faith's movements while she maintained a cool detachment, which made him slightly on edge for no reason. Her eyes had a faraway, pensive look and he wondered what was going on.
"I remembered seeing a river when we came in," began Phil, with care. "Umm Faith . . . If you're not needing me, I'll be at the river washing up."
"Yeah that's a good idea . . . I'll be taking a walk," said Faith. "And be careful out there."
After he disappeared in the forest, in of one of the travel bags, Faith took out a heart shaped locket. She looked briefly at the pictures with the fading light. Holding the locket in her hand, she murmured, "One day . . ."
Then profound sadness filled Faith's face as she watched the salsa red sun descend.
Relaxed after a tumultuous day, Phil had finished washing up at the river and was on his way back to his tent. A week ago, he told Faith about this wildlife area and to his surprise Faith took his advice. He didn't realize that she actually spent week out here. Relieved to have a few moments of peace his thoughts drifted back to Faith. Bemused she was enigma to him.
As Phil walked back, he heard twigs and branches snapping, and leaves rustling about. Startled he stopped to listen in the dark forest. When he didn't hear other sounds other than his breathing he proceeded to walk again. However, he proceeded carefully when he recalled Faith's warning. When he heard more sounds, he became more nervous and spoke in several voices to mimic so it appeared that he was part of a group.
"Hey Johnny, what d'ya think that was?" asked Phil.
"Ah Bo, I see you brought your bow," declared Phil.
"I have my shotgun," announced Phil.
Several times, he almost ran off but he picked a large stick and started to talk louder. In part, this helped him alleviate his fears as he walked in the forest.
When he reached the campsite, he didn't see Faith.
"Faith," whispered Phil, loudly. "Faith!"
Then the forest became hushed, almost too quiet. The normal nightly hubbub had disappeared and had given way to deathlike silence. The small hairs at the back of his neck had risen and now his gut ached. Feeling an adrenaline rush and not thinking straight he backed away towards Faith's truck.
He didn't get far when a heavy hand grasped his shoulder and spun him around. The stranger's mouth reeked of death and its face became contorted exposing sharp, long teeth. Then it bared its fangs as it started to clamp down on Phil's neck. Like a mouse, he shrieked and wildly squirmed away falling to the ground, and scampered away.
Just when he thought, he'd never live to see another day, a wolf leapt over him landing on the attacker tackling him to the ground.
"Wolf, wolf," squeaked Phil. Shaking, he could barely move. "Faith, help! Faith where are you!"
Then a human figure in a hooded, leather duster came up running pass Phil. The figure fought and then impaled the attacker with a sharp object. A moment later, the attacker dissolved into dust. Exhausted and not believing his eyes Phil passed out.
When he woke up, he saw a lone figure near the campfire that appeared to be cooking. The aroma of food beckoned him making his stomach growl. Rubbing his forehead, he wondered if this had been a bad dream.
"Faith?"
The figure dressed in the leather coat turned around and he jumped back.
"Oh my god," said Phil, startled. He put up arms up in defense. "You're not Faith."
The figure carefully got up facing Phil and calmly said, "No I'm not."
As the stranger slowly pushed back the hood, Phil relaxed his stance when he saw it woman. Phil slowly approached her to get better view. Almost immediately, he became captivated and rather taken by the ethereal beauty that stood in front of him. He had never seen someone so lovely, so fair, and so slender. Her blonde hair shimmered against the campfire and her eyes were mixture of hazel with flecks of olive. It was surreal, her skin was porcelain white but her eyes were sad. He wondered what in the world she was doing here?
Intrigued, he asked, "Who are you?"
Instead of answering, she asked, "You know Faith?"
Phil nodded and then heard a wolf howl in the distance and suddenly he became agitated. Was that the wolf he saw earlier or was that a dream? Not knowing for sure he wondered if this was this the mysterious woman who fought earlier?
"Shoot, I didn't know there were wolves in these parts. I wish I had a gun," said Phil nervously.
"The wolf won't hurt you if you stay with me and won't cause trouble if you don't cause trouble to me."
"Okay, if you say so miss . . . but just to let you know wolves are wild creatures. I don't want to be eaten," added Phil.
"I understand your concerns," she added. "But this wolf is different and special. This wolf protects me."
"Miss you shouldn't make assumptions about wolves. Pardoned my pun this may come back to bite you."
Saying nothing, the mysterious woman smiled and sat back down near the campfire. He sighed inwardly wondering what this was about. He thought Faith was unusual but this woman was just as strange but hopefully not in a weird, axe murderer way. Then she took a small bowl with stew and gave to him. Unperturbed by the occasional wolf howls, she picked up another bowl for herself.
"How do you know Faith?" she began.
Before he replied, he studied the mysterious woman again to try to read her impassive face.
"From work . . . But you two know each other?" he asked and took the stew.
"Yes," she said sadly.
"I guess we have something in common. Let me introduce myself I'm Phil Gaston, hail from Kentucky but I go by the moniker Mouse on account of my stature," began Mouse. "Couldn't make the football team and military said I was too underweight." He refrained from saying little man or tiny man as he was picked on.
The woman sat back down and listened.
"You see I can squirm in tight places makes me kinda of useful in tight situations. Get paid nicely. For instance in a construction site, I get in tight places that no one can or wants to. Then I found out I wasn't the only one who could. Faith could do it too. We were working at the same jobsite. But she's different from the guys many ways. Man she is so strong she can pick up an I beam, all by herself. Puts the men to shame and none of them will bother her. Wish I had that strength. You might say I'm her best bud. I hang out with her"
The woman laughed softly and shook her head. Phil stopped when she heard her laugh; it had a nice ring to it. Accompanying her laugh was a charming smile.
"So, you're best buds with Faith are you?" she chuckled. "You hang tight with her?"
"Yep," said Phil proudly. "We go back."
"Funny she's never mentioned you before."
"Umm . . . well . . . maybe, she's the shy type," defended Phil. "Sometimes she could be modest."
Then the woman laughed out loud and Phil looked around nervously.
"Shy? Modest?. . .Oh come on . . .Faith is never shy . . .She's in your face whether you like it or not."
Phil conceded; he had lied big time and had been caught red handed.
"Well okay. I may have misspoken."
"Yeah right."
"Okay. I lied. I know her briefly at the jobsite."
"You're forgiven," she said sweetly.
"Thanks kind of you . . . uh miss."
"But don't lie to me about Faith because I'll know if you do," she said in a serious tone.
"I promise," said Phil, finally.
When she took out a switchblade from her boot, Phil involuntary backed however he relaxed his stance when she started to slice open an apple. He became quiet and thought about the wolf, again and gulped for air.
"By the way where is Faith?"
"She's around."
Then he heard twigs snapping and leaves crunching. "Don't you think she's being reckless to be out and about when there's a wolf lurking nearby?"
"I have confidence in Faith." she said and gave the other half of the apple to Phil. Ever so often, the wolf howled desolately and would occasionally startled Phil.