Page 109 of Red

Take him.

Blood pools on the ground beneath Stark’s black leg, but I block it from my mind. It’s not the time.

Who—?

Move, I send to him.

Two more shots come whizzing by our heads. There’s no time.

I run back toward the bullets, remembering what I read in the book just days ago.

To run with intense speed, you need to look beyond where you believe your vision can go. Your legs will catch up.

I zone in on two gunmen. Fire burns through my legs, and in seconds, I’m over top of them. I pick one up and fling him as high as I can. A shriek comes from up in the trees. The other, I rip apart in one bite. I keep on—five more. Until I find the one I’m looking for—Hudson. He’s surrounded by six men. A coward. I blur by and take one out.

Turns out, you just need to have adrenaline and need. I’ll add that to the lines of that book on speed.

Five wolves come out of the far end of the forest and take out two gunmen. Shots become a constant ringing in my ears. I run past them, back in the direction of Hudson’s huddle, and stop right in front of them. I swipe away the men in front, crushing them into the ground before they get a chance to take me in. Hudson raises his gun at me, and I let a roaring growl rip through me.

“There aren’t red beasts.” His arms shake.

Without giving him a chance to shoot me, I bare my teeth and shred his torso. He collapses onto the ground, and I take off again. When I put some distance between myself and the remaining humans, I stop to breathe.

Are you okay? I send out to Stark. I need to know. I can’t see him, but the tingles edge my fur.

Yes.

I breathe in and go on another round. A few shots ring out past my head, and I pick a destination, moving faster than I’ve ever imagined. When I reach the gunman, my long legs lock. Gretch’s hands shake on the gun. She lifts it up toward me and tilts her head as she focuses. I lift my left paw up and limp toward her with a blink.

Can you hear me? I try to connect to her human mind. She will have to shoot, but I can’t kill my friend.

“No . . .” she says. “Aly?”

I nod.

“You’re a . . . a . . . beast?”

I prefer the term werewolf. I have no idea if she can hear me.

I take two steps back and lower my snout to the ground. She stands, her grip faltering. I watch her eyes as she looks behind her, then inches forward. I twist my ears toward the gun, and she lifts the shoulder strap over her arms. The gun falls to the ground, then her foot stomps on it and her shaking hand sticks out. I move closer. She touches the side of my face, running her hand through my fur. I close my eyes.

Another shot rings out. Agony explodes through my shoulder, right next to where I was hit before.

“Aly, I’m sorry.” Her head leaves my shoulder as she turns and runs in the other direction.

I let fire wrap the wound, crying out as it sears off. It’s a temporary fix.

I narrow my eyes in on the gunman not too far away, and bolt forward to reach them. Blood seeps from my mouth by the time they’re lying limp on the ground.

A few more charges of werewolves come through.

I just saw a red wolf.

No, you’re dreaming. Pay attention.

I take out a string of shooters as I run around the entire camp, getting close to where the fire has spread to three more buildings. When I near the entrance, I see vehicles speeding out.

They’re retreating.