The drive is exactly as pleasant as a bus with twelve 10-year-olds and incredibly peppy parents and guardians would be. I am grateful when we finally arrive and I can get out and stretch my legs. I didn’t want to be the ‘party pooper’ but all the pep was hard to get into when my hips and knees were arching from the 5-hour journey.

Past the entrance is a wide flat expanse which has a sign that reads “Differently-abled friendly campsite”. I suppose I appreciate the effort but something about it makes me a bit twitchy.

While the Acorns’ set up their tents for themselves and their chaperones to share, we, the chaperones, unpack the food and get the kitchen area set up. By we, it’s the mothers, aunts, and one particularly spritely grandmother. As soon as I was out of the car with my crutch in hand, I was shuffled over to a picnic table and told to relax.

As everything was getting set up, one of the moms calls out that there is a guide to take us on one of the short hiking trails before dinner.

I go over to the gathering group and feel more than a few eyes on me. One of the moms that I haven’t met before sidles up next to me and does that thing where someone is acting like they're whispering but it’s actually at normal volume, “Hi, I’m Carla. Jennifer’s mom. Do you want to sit this one out?”

“Thanks. I’m good.” I say, not even looking at her as I roll my shoulders back. The guide already said it was a pretty flat walk so I’m worried about it. Plus, this is exactly why I brought the crutch in the first place.

I can tell she wants to say more but doesn’t end up getting the chance to as Nia bounds up to me, her pigtails flying behind her. “Isn’t this exciting! Who knows what we’ll see out there!”

Chances are we won’t see anything considering how loud everyone is but I smile, “True. Maybe some deer or a giant bear.”

She grins ear to ear as two other girls come over to her. “These are my bestest Acorn friends, Betina and Marce.” She is all smiles as the other two girls wave shyly. I remember the name Betina, and see that she also has a crutch.

“Cool gear,” I say, holding up my own. “Twinsies.”

“See? I told you she was cool,” Nia says proudly. “Come on, it’s starting!”

Betina ends up walking for most of the hike beside me, probably because we walk at a similar speed. She seems content to just walk and look around her and I don’t mind the company. Of course, every couple of minutes Nia and Marce bounce back to us to share whatever incredible thing they have just learned from the tour guide.

The walk only lasts for about 30 minutes but I’m pretty worn out by the time we get back to camp. Like before, I’m shuffled off to a picnic table and while everyone else is doing something to get ready for dinner I am just here, feeling incredibly useless and awkward. It’s difficult to accept that there are things I still can’t do and even harder to have them pointed out, even if it’s done kindly.

Almost as if sensing it, Nia bounds up to me with Marce and Betina in tow again. “I was just telling them about your crutch. They didn’t really get to see it on the walk. Can I show them?”

She doesn’t wait for an affirmative but I would’ve given her one either way. She pulls it out from beside me and starts to tell them about the design process.

When I’d gotten it a few months ago, my mom and Nia felt that it needed to be decorated or else I’d be mistaken for, as they charmingly put it ‘a really old lady’. So my crutch has a black tennis ball with flames at the bottom and a flame and sparkle design covering everything but the handgrips, courtesy of Nia. It’s not exactly my style but I don’t really care either. Hopefully, I won't have to use it by the end of the year when I am more comfortable walking on my own. At home and around town I don’t use it but at a campsite with uneven footing, I didn’t want to risk losing my balance.

“Hey…” Nia’s unhappy whine calls my attention back to her, “the tennis ball is gone!”

I take the crutch back and sure enough, the bottom is sans-ball. “That’s okay. It probably fell off on the walk.”

Nia’s lip juts out and she says, “I picked that one out for you.”

“After the trip, we can go pick out a ton more, okay?” I ruffle her hair but she seems unconvinced. “Really, Nia. It’s not a big deal.”

She shrugs and starts to walk away. Marce and Betina stare at me for a moment, clearly unsure of what to do before hastily following after her.

I don’t if it’s just her age or how she’s coping but the littlest things cause her to fall apart. I hope that being here with her friends will curb that a bit.

As the sun goes down behind the canopy of trees, the troop gathers around and the parents serve dinner. I was also handed an overflowing paper plate, which I graciously accepted but my stomach is churning, from what I don’t know, so I end up picking at my food and moving it around the plate rather than eating.

I end up joining in for marshmallow roasting because who can say no to that. Nia leaves her friends to sit beside me and when I attempt to shoo her back, she nudges me with her shoulder and says, “We have some important business to discuss.”

I raise an eyebrow, “Oh?”

“Of course. Now I know you coming here was supposed to be my birthday present but I was thinking that maybe Mommy and you and I could go to a movie or something. I wanted Betina and Marce to come too.”

I smile and brush her hair off her shoulder and tuck it behind her ear. “Of course. That sounds like a great idea. In fact, why don’t you go and invite them now.”

She is beaming ear to ear as she skips back over to her friends. I watch as she shares the good news and her friends clap excitedly.

They stay together, having what looks like a great time, and I am content to just watch. She seems to have gotten over the lost tennis ball, which is a blessing. I’d hate for that to ruin her trip.

It gets late and one of the moms announces that it’s time to turn in. I stay by the fire after the kids and a few parents go to bed.

Those that are left clean up and go off to the side to chat without disturbing those sleeping. Not wanting to be a wet blanket, I go over to join them. As I near the group, I hear one of the moms say “And they were supposed to be closed by now but they’ve had such a bad turnout, they agreed to stay open this weekend just for us.”

Another mom, Betina’s, says happily “We’ve got the whole place to ourselves! Isn’t that nice, Amaranthine?”

Startled that she is talking to me, let alone using my whole name, it takes me a second to respond, by which time all eyes are on me.

“Uh, yeah. Yes, that’s nice. Less litter for sure.”

I feel like they all collectively blink at me, probably thinking ‘that was a weird comment’. “Oh and you can just call me Ama,” I add as an afterthought.

“Oh.. okay.” Betina’s mom says before picking back up the conversation that I have so awkwardly dropped on the floor. I stay with them for a while longer but don’t join back in. Slowly the group disperses and after midnight the last few head to bed.

I wave goodbye and murmur something about going to bed myself but I don’t feel tired. Instead, I feel on edge. My stump itches and I resist the urge to scratch, opting instead to talk a slow stroll around the campsite.

I hear the occasional giggle from a tent, knowing that some of the girls are still up and talking. After all, what good is a sleepover without a bit of minor curfew breaking?

I circle the camp twice when the wind picks up and I shiver at the piercing cold pricking my cheeks. I turn to go back to my tent when I see movement at the edge of the campsite. Something is moving in the direction of the trees.

The thing runs through a clear patch of moonlight and illuminates the shape of a person, keeping low as they scurry away. I immediately shuffle after the person with all the speed I can muster. The person looks small so I know it’s one of the kids running off alone.

A smarter person would wake up adults who can actually move faster than a wounded gazelle. My only defense is that I am pretty sure it’s Nia sneaking off and my older sister instincts have kicked in.

As I enter the trees I call after her but the shadow keeps moving. Can’t she hear me?

I walk for almost 20 minutes, which is no small miracle considering I probably should have fallen flat on my face when all the activity catches up with me. I stop, hanging onto a nearby tree for support. My thigh muscles are quivering from the excursion and I’m sure I’ll have blisters underneath the sock on my prosthetic.

Up ahead I can see the trees thinning and I realize that we are definitely not on any designated trail. It’s going to be a bitch to get back to camp and I don’t even have a flashlight.

Stupid! Stupid!

I manage to keep moving by supporting myself against each tree I pass until I finally hit the last stand of trees surrounding a moon-drenched field.

Nia’s on the ground off to one side staring at something. For a moment, I can’t figure out what it is. Or rather my mind can’t wrap around what I’m seeing. It’s a wolf the size of a bear and it is locked in a staring contest with her.

My mind goes blank with terror as I scream, “Nia! Get away from that!”

She doesn’t turn, but the creature swings its head towards me and I stare into twin yellow globes the size of baseballs.

“Holy fuck,” I breathe. I don’t dare move, afraid of spooking the monster into attacking Nia. We stay like that, as sweat begins to drip down my back, neither of us blinking or looking away.

Just as I think I might burst from the tension, a group of men enters the clearing from the opposite side. They are huge, at least seven feet tall, and made of pure muscle. But, more concerning is the fact that for some unknown reason they are all stark naked.

“What have you got there, sir?” One of them says as they trot over towards the wolf and Nia. Who was he talking to? The wolf?

Another of the men shoulders one of his companions and laughs. “God, he ran into a kid. Guess we’ll have to eat it.” The tone of his voice says that he’s joking but, since nothing in my life makes sense at that moment, it seems like a perfectly legitimate threat.

The fear that was keeping me immobile shatters and I start forward. It’s then that I notice what is next to the gigantic beast. Strewn around the space between Nia and it are bodies, or rather body parts. Mangled corpses, limbs torn off, blood everywhere. I look back at the wolf and now see with clarity that its shaggy brown fur is matted with a dark liquid - blood.

“Get away from her!” I screech as I continue forward in a manic need to get to her. But my legs can't support my weight after having pushed so hard to follow Nia out here. I stumble and fall after only a few steps.

“Fuck!” I slam both fists into the ground and start dragging myself forward.

The men stop and, as one, all swing around to regard me. “Well, fuck.” one mutters. He looks at me in disbelief, as if I am the oddity here, not the giant wolf or the three naked men that are larger than NFL linebackers.

“And look who's just arrived,” the one who’d joked about eating Nia says as another group of huge, naked people walk into the clearing. This group includes women and even worse, other abnormally large wolves.

“I thought you said there weren’t any campers, Niles.” One of the new arrivals says, his voice is gruff and he is clearly annoyed. He is just as large as the first three but something about him is more imposing. He wears authority like a cloak and everyone seems to turn towards him slightly when he speaks, as if in deference. His hair shines black and silver in the moonlight and cascades over his shoulders like silk.

For a moment, one surreal moment, I think about how nice it would be to have such flawless, straight hair. Then I am hit by an inexplicable wave of emotion, and a voice in my head is telling me that this man deserves my complete devotion. But just as quickly as it comes it’s gone.

“Yeah, Kane, sorry about that. We were told it was. Not that it changes anything. We still needed to get them.”

“Indeed,” the one in charge sighs, looking over at the bloody wolf and Nia still on the ground.

I’m not sure whether it is the arrival of more people, the fact that the man is looking at her, or that the shock has finally worn off, but Nia starts screaming at the top of her lungs.

One of the closer behemoths grabs her and puts a hand the size of a Christmas ham over her mouth. She keeps screaming but it’s muffled. I gasp and shout, “Get your hands off her! Nia! Nia, baby!”

The imposing one regards the whole scene wearily. He looks at the wolf by Nia for a long moment before saying, “I see you caught them all and didn’t need any of us on the hunt.”

The wolf makes a sound somewhere between a bark and a laugh.

There is absolute stillness for a moment, with only Nia’s shrieks breaking the silence. Every hair on my neck is on end as he finally looks at me. He has a strong, sharp jawline and a square face with piercing eyes so dark they looked bottomless. He holds my gaze for a moment and it feels like he is daring me to look away first. In the end, I break off the staring contest to look back at Nia.

She is still screaming, albeit muffled, and the one presumably named Niles huffs. “Bring the kid to her. Maybe it’ll shut up. God, this is a cluster fuck.”

I feel people arrive behind me but I don’t dare take my eyes off of her. As more large, muscled bodies surround us, I know that I am absolutely fucked. I prop myself up trying to rise to my knees and call out for Nia again. By now she’s tired herself out screaming and just hangs there, completely immobile in the man’s arms. Her eyes are wide as saucers while the man’s hand still covers the lower half of her face. She looks so tiny, so helpless.

A strangled sob escapes my throat as rough hands pull me up and drag me. They let me go a yard or so from Nia but I haven’t regained the ability to hold myself up yet.

“Or the other way around, I guess,” Niles mutters.

"I think this one's defective." one of the two who'd carried me over snickers.

Niles walks over and hunkers down in front of me. "I have to say, you have the worst luck. Talk about wrong time, wrong place."

The one holding Nia lets her go and she collapses in front of me. I pull her into my arms and release a breath I didn’t know I was holding. She is alive and seemingly unharmed, just out cold. I see something clutched in her hand and gently pry her fingers apart to find a fucking golf ball. I want to laugh at how ridiculous it is that we are in this situation because of a missing freaking golf ball.

I turn her face towards me and see that it is splattered with blood. Had she been here when that thing had killed those innocent people?

I can’t help but look at the bodies now that they were so close. I’ve never seen a dead person before, let alone bodies torn apart. Bile rises in my throat and my eyes sting. How can they all be so calm? There are at least four dead people if the amount of heads I see is anything to go by.

Niles stands up and turns to face the others. The wolf draws up beside him along with the man with the midnight hair. They seem to be having a silent conference. As I look from one to the other they all nod as one, wolf included, and turn back to look at us.

It occurs to me that in any movie or book, once someone sees something they aren't meant to, things only get worse, not better.

I look back at the wolf again but, as I stare, his eyes begin to change, getting smaller and darker. His skin ripples and the otherwise quiet clearing fills with sounds like the cracking and popping of a fire. Slowly, bit by bit, the fur recedes into his skin, as his back legs lengthen and he stands. Our eyes are still locked as his face morphs into what can only be described as the fiercest looking man I've ever seen. His hair is the same brown as the wolf's fur and parts of it cling to his forehead with either sweat or blood. He has a scruffy beard intersected by twin scars that start under his right eye and disappear below his chin. His eyes are a bright shade of amber, not so different from the eyes of the wolf he’d been moments before.

Coherent thought has left me and all I can do is stare. I've become numb to the fact that everyone around me is naked as the day they were born. And even stranger, the fact that a wolf has just become a man or even the carnage that surrounds me is not the most shocking thing right now.

I am more shocked by the state the man is in. His torso is a patchwork of scars, most old, some new, and slowly oozing blood. Based on the rest of the mammoth-sized individuals surrounding us, I can assume that under all of that gore is hard muscle but what I see is puckered flesh, crisscrossed in every direction and shining silver in the light. Everything about him is intimidating and all I feel is the overwhelming urge to hide but I can’t stop staring.

There are now two things I know with absolute certainty. One, there is no way Nia and I are making it out of this, not after what we've seen. And two, werewolves are fucking real.