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Noah Stillwell. Joey's captive son--not bound and forced forward at gunpoint, but on his own, ready to help his pack mates take down their prey.
When he realized who was running straight at him, his hands flew up awkwardly, as if he hadn't yet decided whether to stop me, attack me or fend me off.
With scarcely a falter in my stride, I grabbed the front of his jacket, yanked him off his feet and flung him to the side. I couldn't imagine either brother stopping to help the fallen boy, and they didn't, but the path was narrow and as Noah scrambled up, he got in their way, a chorus of grunts and curses echoing behind me. I hunched over, picking a path where the snow lay thinnest over the ground and running full out.
Running has always been my strong point. I'm particularly skilled at running away from things. I've been doing it my whole life, and not just metaphorically.
I've spent the last decade learning to stand firm and face my problems ... or at least batter them until they're unrecognizable. So now, when I ran from the Teslers, it hurt--a mental pain so acute it was like running across a bed of nails, the spikes driving into my soles with every stride.
I told myself I wasn't running away, that this was just part of a plan that would eventually end in a standoff, a challenge and, of course, victory. The only part missing? The actual plan.
I darted through the trees, steering for the thickest part to hide my pale shirt and hair. Gradually, the sounds of pursuit faded, then stopped altogether.
I didn't kid myself. I hadn't lost them--they could easily follow my scent trail. They'd just stopped chasing me. I was miles from any populated place, running through the frozen Alaska wilderness dressed in a shirt and sneakers. They would regroup and come up with a plan to track and capture me. And I'd use this time to change into something a little warmer.
I just needed to get a little farther from them, so I could relax enough for the Change. I'd gone about twenty more feet when bobbing lights ahead had me plunging into the undergrowth. Once I was hidden, I peered out.
I could see a cluster of three distant lights, bobbing at waist level. Flashlights? A fourth joined the group, then a fifth and as I squinted, I heard the faint rumble of engines. Snowmobiles.
I remembered what Dan had said--that the Teslers had two other mutts in their group, currently in the Lower 48 setting up trade routes. Could the Teslers have recalled them when we killed Dan? Possible, but if he had, they would have accompanied Noah and the brothers to the exchange. Far more likely, this was a group of humans. And if it was, then I'd run to them for help. My pride could withstand that indignity better than what was in store for me if the Teslers caught up.
Still, the small chance it was the mutts meant I slid cautiously from the bushes. The headlights bounced along like giant fireflies, the engines a low and steady rumble.
As I walked, the lights moved farther away. Did snowmobiles have rear lights? I had no idea, but they were clearly heading in the opposite direction. I broke into a slow jog.
The lights kept moving, no faster than me. Yet the engine rumble seemed to get louder, as if I was catching up.
I stopped. The hairs on my neck prickled as I looked around. The forest shimmered under the moon, a dusting of new snow glimmering on every branch. Quiet had fallen--not the unnatural silence that preceded the appearance of the beast, just an odd hush, as if even the night animals were careful not to make too much noise.
The lights stayed exactly where they were when I stopped. As if they were waiting for me...
Whoever was out there couldn't see me from here. Surely they'd stopped coincidentally.
I stepped forward. The lights didn't move. I took another step. Still they only bobbed in place. I could hear the engines, also seeming neither closer nor farther, but the rumble oddly muffled.
I didn't hear any sound of pursuit, though, and that was the important thing. I carefully moved toward what seemed to be a break in the forest. I could see the lights flickering through the last curtain of trees.
I stepped to the edge. A laugh came from the other direction. I wheeled. No one was there. The clearing stretched as far as I could see--a ribbon of white bordered by trees. Not a clearing, but a road. Perfect. I grinned. The skin over my cheeks pulled sharply with the sudden movement, as if my face had been mere seconds from freezing solid.
I turned back toward the headlights ... and found myself staring down an e
qually long expanse of winding empty road, with no sign of the lights.
The rumbling of engines continued. I started following the road, looking for a place the snowmobiles could have turned off. Then I spotted the lights again, moving deeper into the woods on the other side.
I glanced each way, assuring myself no one was around, then I started across. A crack ripped through the night, loud as gunfire, and I spun, realizing I was in the middle of the road, too far to dive for cover on either side.
A long, bubbling laugh sounded off to my right, barely audible over the dull roar of the engines. I peered into the night.
Another crack came. Not from my left or my right...
I looked down. The laugh sounded again, the bubbling burble of water flowing over rocks. With a third crack, a spider web of fissures shot through the "snow" at my feet.
This wasn't a road. It was a river. And I stood in the middle of it.
I looked around, keeping the rest of me perfectly still. The "engines" continued to rumble, water, running fast and free somewhere in front of me. I could see those lights dancing in the forest, and the babble of water still sounded like laughter--taunting laughter now.
I told myself it was Tesler and his buddies with flashlights, but that creeping feeling down my back said otherwise, recalled the lights leading us through the forest two nights ago. There were no humans here. No werewolves. No mysterious beasts. Just something... else. Something primitive, capricious and cruel. Some magic, deep in the forest, that cared little for my survival.
