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"Nothing," the man said.
I collapsed, body convulsing, the world going dark as my mind slid toward unconsciousness.
No, please no. Not now. Please not now.
I panted for air, my body wracked with sudden fever. I tugged at my shirt.
Right. I had to get my clothing off. If I was going to shape-shift, I had to get everything off, and it gave me something to focus on, to stay conscious.
Undressing wasn't easy. The signals from my brain seemed to short out on the way to my hands and my body kept jerking. When I finally fumbled most of my clothes off, I blacked out.
I came to, stretching, body aching. When I reached out a hand and saw a paw instead, I leaped onto all fours and peered through the trees, heart pounding, certain I'd see an empty driveway.
The van was still there. I lowered myself to my belly and crept through the undergrowth.
"--really have to get going," Dr. Inglis was saying. "I don't want those boys waking up."
"Let me check in with the team one more time."
I reached the tree line and looked out. How was I going to rescue anyone now? I couldn't open the van door. I couldn't slash the van's tires--
I stopped and lifted a paw. My claws shot out. I let out a soft chuff.
That made it easy.
I started forward, gaze fixed on the rear tire, farthest from where Dr. Inglis and the man stood--
I stopped. So I slash the tires and then what? Fight them all? Including the team out in the woods?
Time to reconsider.
I retreated to a tree, dug in my claws, and started to climb. I got about five feet off the ground before realizing I was forgetting something.
I headed back into the woods to get what I needed, then I
came out and climbed the tree. There was a branch a few feet from the top of the van, but I went higher, so I'd be hidden. I stretched out on the limb to wait.
"They're still looking," the man said as he signed off the radio.
"The boys are going to wake up any second--"
"I know. I told them we're leaving. They can keep looking for the skin-walker girl."
"Her name is Maya," Dr. Inglis said.
The man shrugged. As they got into the van, I crouched on the branch, tail behind me like a tightrope walker's pole. When my balance was right, I leaped, aiming for the limb overhanging the van, but I wasn't that agile yet. I caught the branch, slipped, and struck the roof with a bang as the van started backing up.
The driver hit the brakes. I flattened myself on the roof.
The man rolled down the driver's window and peered into the side mirror. Dr. Inglis did the same on the passenger's side.
"Looks like you hit a fallen branch," Dr. Inglis said. "Just back over it."
The van continued down the lane. Then it turned left, heading back to town. Another turn, onto a dirt road so narrow that evergreen branches steepled over it and I had to flatten out again to avoid getting poked in the eye.
I waited until we'd left the other road behind. Then I lifted my big front paw and brought it down on the roof with a thump. When the van didn't slow, I did it again, twice in succession, pounding hard.
The driver eased off the gas. Dr. Inglis's window was still cracked open, and her voice came through it.
