Raised by Wolves: A Thriller

by James Patterson

“Hey, you, how was school?” Lacey asks, beaming. Holo blinks. How’s he supposed to answer that? He’d felt trapped. Scared. Confused. The food was weird and soft—though he ate it, whatever it was (some kind of meat, sitting in a salty, brown puddle)—and he’d had to take something called a quiz. He’d gotten yelled at for growling.

I run even faster than I did on the track. They’re only fifty yards ahead of me. They flow through the trees, graceful as wind. They could let me catch up to them if they wanted to. But they don’t want to. They speed away from me like I’m just another human. A stranger—or an enemy. “Come back!” I cry. “It’s me! Wait!” But wolves aren’t dogs. They don’t come when you call them.