Allison Moon - Lunatic Fringe

LUNATIC FRINGE

Tales of the Pack: Book 1

By Allison Moon

Copyright 2011 by Allison Moon

Smashwords Edition

Cover by: Julianna Parr,juliannaparr.com

All rights reserved. No part of this book maybe reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permissionexcept in the case of brief quotations embodied in criticalarticles or reviews.

This ebook is licensed for your personalenjoyment only. It may not be re-sold or given away. Thank you forrespecting the hard work of this author.

ISBN 978-0-98383092-4

(Paperback version ISBN978-0-9838309-1-7)

For more information:

http://www.TalesofthePack.com

moon@talesofthepack.com

Tales of thePack: Book 2 on sale now

For Reid, my champion

The cave stank of urine, sweat, andblood. Lexie pressed her back against the steel door, her knifessheathe digging into her hipbone. She wiped her hands on her jeans,watching the womens faces.

Blythe kicked the man in the stomachand he fell to his knees. The hood over his face puckered as hecoughed and sputtered, gasping at the word Please.

Blythe used the rope to wrench hisarms back and ripped the hood from his head.

You like attacking girls,Frank?

I dont know what youre talkingabout! he pleaded, his ham-hands curling into purple fists behindhis back.

Youre a liar, Blythe growled,and a beast.

He shook his head, drops of bloodand sweat flying like water from a dogs coat.

Alright then, Blythe said. Shekicked him in the stomach, forcing more blood and spit from hismouth with a cough.

The women set in, taking turnsbeating the breath out of him.

From between her fingers, Lexiewatched the man beg and struggle to rise between blows.

I cant-- Lexie flung the dooropen, running into the blessedly cool, clean air.

As the door slammed shut behind her,she thought she heard a whimper become a snarl. She didnt stop tofind out, running until her lungs and legs burned and the skyturned indigo with the impending sunrise.

Chapter 1

Stop helping me, Dad. This is adumb reason to re-injure your back. Lexie Clarion walked to therear of her pickup truck, wearing a groove into the graveldriveway, and slid another box along the bed to join the others. Asshe relieved her burden of packed books, bedding and clothes, herfather, Ray, stood at the front door presenting another box for hercollection.

Sending my daughter off to collegeis a great reason. He offered her a wistful smile with the box.This is a light one, he said. The quilt Mom gave you, Ithink.

Lexie sighed and walked toward her father, thegravel crunching beneath her tight-laced boots. She dried her palmson her flannel shirt tails and tossed back the twin braids thatbounced alongside her face. She didnt care that they made her lookat least three years younger than her eighteen-year-old self. Solittle of her had changed in that time. The same chipmunk-auburnhair hung from her head. The same freckles that she had naivelyexpected to fade with age stubbornly dotted her nose, and she hadyet to grow into her front teeth. Now, on the far side ofadolescence, Lexie had lost faith that any of these things wouldchange. She learned to accept her face, just as she did her bonybody. Still, she held out hope that she would eventually eke out abit of curve to her hips or something more than an A cup, just asimple softness, however slight, somewhere along her angles. Untilthen, she would feel forever balanced on the cusp of childhood andsomething only barely more.

Taking the last box from her father, Lexienoticed the curve of his shoulders and the stress lines on hisbrow. Nine years on your back must take a lot out of you,she thought. She hugged her arms around the boxs stiff corners andtook it to the truck while her father stood silent in the doorway.Lexie thought ahead to the coming afternoon, wondering what herfather would do with himself in an empty house. The muffled voicesof afternoon news anchors droned from the living room as if inreply. She slid the final box onto the truck with a sigh and lookedto her father. He flinched and drummed his lower back with the tipsof his fingers. He needed to lie down.

Instead, Ray shuffled to help her strap a bluetarp over her belongings. His eyes darted around the trucksload.

I still dont know why you cantstay here, Lex, he muttered.

Its only fifty miles away,Dad.

Youve got the truck. You couldcommute.

Im going to be odd enough as itis. Theyre all a bunch of rich kids from big cities. I dont wantto be the hick weirdo who cant even afford the dorms.

Doesnt matter where you camefrom, Lex, he said, a deep divot forming between his eyebrows.Only matters where youre going. You should be proud of thatscholarship.

Theyd give it to any townie thatwasnt brain-dead.

You know thats not true. Theygave it to that Ward boy, and hes one bright kid.

Duanes an exception. Hes alwaysan exception.

Most of those spoiled city kidsnever had to work for anything in their life. You busted your assfor this, he said. Its gonna serve you good.

Lexie tugged at her braids, eager to hit theroad. She took a tentative step forward to embrace her father, buthe stepped back into the shadowed interior of the house, returninga moment later with a white cardboard box sealed with two pieces ofscotch tape. Affixed to the lid was a pink, store-boughtribbon.

Dad, come on. This isntnecessary.

Maybe, maybe not, he replied,managing a grin.

Lexie pursed her lips and opened the box, herfingers searching beneath a layer of crumpled newspaper for thegift inside. Her fingertips grazed leather, and she pulled out alarge hunting knife in a hand-stitched sheath.

Whoa, Lexie said. She unsnappedthe sheath and slid a freshly honed, eight-inch blade free of theleather. The steel of the blade glimmered in the hazy afternoonsunlight. Jeez, Dad. Im going to college, not theYukon.

Girl can always use a good huntingknife. And, you can always pull it on any of the boys if they getfresh with you.

Fresh. Ha.

Just take it, he said. Itllmake me feel better about you being all alone out there. Those rarewolves arent getting any tamer. He paused as Lexie inspected theknifes steel hilt, which bore a crude etching in the shape of acircle and two crescent moons. Maybe you should take the twelvegauge, too, he added.

Lexie laughed. Oh, Im sure the R.A. wouldlove that.

Rare wolves arent something tolaugh about, Lex. Theyre not like normal gray wolves. They dontrun in packs, they arent afraid of people, and theyre highlyaggressive. No ones taken one out since back in ninety-nine. Youheard about Hanks friend in forestry, just got attacked betweenhere and Milton last week. And that poor girl back in June? She wasa student at Milton, you know. And then there was that rash ofdeaths a couple years back.

I know, Dad. Lexie grumbled.Every kid in Wolf Creek grew up with a ten oclock curfew becauseof it.

Well, they dont have curfews incollege, and I dont like the way Milton handles the wolf issue.Itd make me feel better knowing you can defend yourself, hereplied. Let the other kids get ate. Youre all Ivegot.

I know, Dad, Lexie said, more inapology than acknowledgement. I just dont know if Im ahand-combat kinda girl. She had hunted with her father countlesstimes and bagged her first buck when she was thirteen, but shednever had the nerve to end a life with a knife, and she didntthink she ever would.

Well get you there someday, Raysaid. In the meantime, use it to clean fish or open cans ofsoda.

Not beer? Lexie asked with asmirk.

Not yet, smart ass. He bopped hisdaughter on the back of her head.

She batted his hand away, but she was stillfocused on the blade. Lexie hefted the knife to test its weight androcked it in her palm to find the balance. The handle was wornsmooth, the varnish rubbed clean off in the fingergrooves.