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Rodney lands amid the broken remains of the stairs and growls.
The hungry sound vibrates through my body, and my heart stutters.
“Run.”
The guttural word kicks my prey brain into gear, and I scramble to my feet once more, racing toward the garden. If I can make it to the dunes, there’s the back entrance to the basement.
Claws scramble onto the porch railing, and black shadows flow alongside me.
Before I reach the gate, Rodney leaps down to block my way.
I spin on my heel, gravel cutting through the thin material of my socks, and race for the driveway.
Shadows flow past me, blocking my way, and I let out a sob, tears blurring my vision.
The command comes again, “Run.”
Turning, I turn into the woods, the trees closing around me.
Branches whip across my face, leaving stinging cuts behind. I run blindly, Rodney’s presence nipping at my heels, blocking my path when I veer toward town, herding me deeper, away from anyone who can help me.
“Help!” I scream, the trees eating up the word.
Tears flow down my cheeks, blinding me to my surroundings. I stumble into the trunk of a tree, the rough bark scraping my hands.
Then a growl behind me demands I keep running, and my legs carry me deeper, deeper, deeper into the nightmare woods where my mother died, and where I’ll soon join her.
Why, all those years ago, didn’t I listen to the warning not to go into the woods at night?
And why, now, didn’t I listen to Haut and just stay inside the house?
Rain starts to fall, fat drops that mix with my tears. I lose my direction, unsure which way I came from or which way leads back toward home.
My heart flutters frantically, feeling like it’s about to give up, to do the werewolf’s job and just end me now.
I stumble through a tangle of bushes, my legs and lungs burning, and fall out the other side into a small clearing. A dilapidated cabin sits at the center, the roof caved in and the porch’s overhang sagging down so far it nearly blocks the door.
It looks ready to fall in on itself and is likely the only chance I have to survive.
With renewed strength, I run across the clearing, the rain beating down harder without the protection of the trees. I climb over the broken stairs and duck under the roof to reach for the door.
The knob refuses to open under my desperate turn, and I shove my body against it, trying to break it open.
“Come on,” I sob, bruising my shoulder against the solid wood. “Please, open.”
A blood-thirsty growl comes from behind me, and I shove harder, my desperate pleas drowning out Rodney’s approach.
The shadows on the porch deepen as his massive body blocks out the rays of sunlight filtering through the tree branches, and hot breath pants against the top of my head.
“Please,” I beg, falling to my knees.
The knob turns within my grasp, and the door creaks on rusted hinges as it swings inward.
Mud-covered boots fill my vision, and light fingers touch the top of my tangled hair. “Are you finally giving up?”
My head jerks up, my eyes meeting Bryant’s triumphant gaze. “No.”
He kneels in front of me. “It’s okay, Rowe. You put up a good fight. You were just outmatched.”
