Chapter 17
Chapter Seventeen
After Dekker left, Raven didn’t move from beneath the pine tree for several long minutes. Anger sizzled through her like an electrical current. Anger and fear, knotted and jagged, and not just for herself.
Shaking, she gritted her teeth. How dare they mock the wolves? How dare they hurt such marvelous creatures? She wanted to hit something, to pound her fists against the nearest tree and scream her frustration.
Or better yet, take out her anger on the bikers. Maybe throw some rocks at Dekker’s face, give him a taste of his own medicine. The thought gave her a moment of grim satisfaction.
Finally, she forced herself to sit up and brushed needles, dirt, and leaves from her hair and clothes. The wolves had retreated to the safety of their den. Cautiously, she stood and followed them.
Raven stepped into the clearing.
The white wolf stood sentry at the entrance to the den. Luna whirled on her, lips curling back from her fangs.
Her heart racing, Raven dropped to a submissive sitting position, her head down, staring at the ground.
It wasn’t enough for Luna. She growled and lunged at Raven. The wolf reared up and struck both great paws against Raven’s shoulders.
Raven was knocked backward onto the ground. The back of her head smacked the ground hard. Pain jarred her spine. She sucked in air that wouldn’t come. The force of the blow knocked the breath out of her. She stared up at the wolf in dumb shock.
The wolf’s huge paws dug into her shoulders, pressing her down. Luna lowered her head inches from Raven’s face, opened her jaws, and snarled. Hot breath spewed against Raven’s cheeks. Dank saliva splattered her chin, cheeks, and lips.
Teeth bared, Luna snapped her jaws inches from Raven’s nose. Her vision filled with gaping jaws, a raw red throat, and needle-sharp fangs. Her heart shuddered inside her chest. The she-wolf was about to tear her face from her skull. She was certain of it.
Luna had been pummeled with rocks. Of course, she’d be enraged. Of course, she’d take revenge on the nearest human. It made sense. If Raven were a wolf, she’d feel the same way.
She had her whittling knife in her pocket. Not like it would do much good. Luna’s jaws could crush bone, shred ligaments and tendons, and pulverize flesh. Fighting back would only enrage the wolf further. She could do nothing. She was utterly helpless.
Raven forced herself to remain limp and pliant. Hopefully, Luna was only posturing. Otherwise, Raven would die in a few seconds.
From inside the den, Shadow growled.
Luna snapped her head up.
Raven took the moment of diversion to shield her exposed face with her hands. She tried to curl herself into a ball to protect her vulnerable internal organs, but Luna remained standing on Raven’s shoulders, pinning her to the ground.
Shadow growled another warning. He loped toward them, shouldered into Luna, and shoved her off Raven. He nipped at Luna’s flank as if to order her away from Raven.
Luna came back snarling and snapping, this time at Shadow. The black wolf stood his ground between Raven and Luna. Raven scrambled backward on her elbows, gasping for breath, her pulse a roar in her ears.
The wolves stared at each other. They stood stiff, ears back, their stances combative, aggressive even.
Raven lay absolutely still, afraid to move, to breathe, to draw a shred of attention her way.
Her heart caught in her throat. Her pulse was a dull roar in her ears.
She watched the wolves, only feet apart, teeth bared.
Luna growled. Shadow growled back. He didn’t move from his position directly in front of Raven’s prone, shaking body.
For whatever reason, Shadow had picked Raven for something.
It was clear that Luna had not. Luna didn’t trust humans. She considered Raven an outsider, an interloper, which was true.
Humans had trapped Luna, beat her with whips, and forced her to battle to the death in a fighting ring. Humans had jeered at her, thrown rocks, caged her. Humans had hunted and murdered her kind for sport and entertainment.
It was a miracle that Luna hadn’t already crushed Raven’s windpipe with a single bite.
Luna gave a belligerent growl, her head lowered. Shadow growled right back in irritation. Neither gave way. Neither submitted. It was a standoff.
Raven recalled something her father had taught her about pack behavior when one wolf challenged another. For a lesser-ranked wolf, a battle of domination and submission would ensue, sometimes to the exclusion of the losing wolf from the pack. Sometimes even to death.
Not with these two. They were alphas, partners, and equals.
Shadow gave a low whine in the back of his throat. He loped to Luna, pressed in and nuzzled his mate’s side, as if in apology, an attempt to make amends. She nipped at him angrily, but she didn’t bite or shy away.
He licked her muzzle. She snorted, still truculent.
He licked her again with affection, his tail lifting hopefully.
This time, she didn’t nip at him. Conceding, she lowered her head and tucked it beneath his head, tenderly rubbing her muzzle against his shoulders and neck.
Perhaps this meant Raven would be spared. Perhaps she was reading too much into their behaviors, attaching human emotions to animals whose instincts had driven their nature for thousands of years.
Raven held her breath. Sticks and twigs and rocks dug into her spine. A spider crawled up her forearm. Still, she dared not move.
Luna snorted and trotted away from Raven, toward the far side of the clearing. Seeming to ignore Raven altogether, Luna turned in a tight circle and settled onto the ground.
The fight seemed to be over. For now, at least.
Shadow also ignored Raven. He sank down beside Luna and buried his muzzle in the soft fur of her neck. She, in turn, rested her head on his back.
Raven wasn’t sure what she should do now. Not move for hours, until the wolves retired to their den? Or could she safely get up now? Did they want her out of their territory, or would her movement activate their prey drive?
Cautiously, her gaze on the wolves, she raised one hand and flicked the spider from her upper arm.
The white wolf fixed her unblinking amber eyes on Raven. I’m watching you, her wolfish expression said. And I don’t like what I see.
Raven stayed on the ground. She wrapped her arms around her rib cage, unable to stop shivering. Hunger gnawed at her empty stomach. Her mouth was so dry it felt caked in sand. She coughed.
The wolves didn’t move. They didn’t react.
Raven, however, was flushed with fear. A single cough didn’t mean anything.
Did it? She wasn’t getting sick. She didn’t have it.
She was just nervous after the scare with the bikers and then the wolves.
People coughed all the time. She needed to clear her throat.
That’s all. Nothing more. Please, please be nothing more.
She closed her eyes for a moment, mentally counting the days. Four days since exposure to the Hydra Virus. The cold symptoms should’ve started yesterday. If she were infected, she would know soon.
Raven opened her eyes and stared up at the sky through the tangle of branches overhead. A bird drifted high, some kind of raptor. Maybe a hawk.
Dread sprouted in the pit of her stomach, an ugly fear spreading black roots. She couldn’t waste energy on worrying about whether she was sick or not. Worrying wasn’t going to stop it or hurry it along, either way.
She had more pressing concerns. The bikers would be back soon. She had to figure out a plan.
Beyond the nature preserve, there were too many towns, too many people. What were the towns like right now? Macon, Atlanta, the suburbs? All of Georgia? The country? What about the world?
Were most people sick or dead? Had law and order truly fallen? And if it had, then anyone not sick would be either desperately out for themselves or actively preying upon others to take whatever they could.
She only knew that Forsyth had been an incredibly dangerous mistake. She had to be smart. She might not outlive another mistake like that.
Anywhere people were located was dangerous. So, if she was supposed to avoid towns and cities, then what could she possibly do? Where could she go that was safe?
The cabin. Her grandfather’s hunting cabin was located somewhere about a hundred or so miles north of here, well past Atlanta, Marietta, Alpharetta, Canton, Cumming, and Gainesville.
The map to the cabin was folded safely in the inside zippered pocket of her backpack.
She couldn’t find the cabin without the map.
The Chattahoochee National Forest alone encompassed over 750,000 acres.
The Blue Ridge Mountains stretched over 34,000 miles of dense wilderness, of mountains, forests, valleys, streams and rivers, and ravines.
That was after she navigated the hostile highways and dangerous cities between here and there. And she would have to keep well east of Atlanta and the surrounding suburban sprawl, as well as Gainesville.
The threat of roving gangs, thieves and raiders, terrified locals, and of course, Raven being a lone young woman made things even more dangerous.
Before her mother left, they had visited the cabin every summer with her family. She closed her eyes, envisioned the rough-hewn walls, the worn pine floor, the peeling cabinets in the kitchen, and the farmer’s sink with the gingham curtains she’d sewn herself when she was twelve.
It was a safe place. The cabin had a fresh creek running through the forty-acre property for fishing, solar panels for electricity, a hand-pump for the well, plus a stocked larder. Nestled in a small valley surrounded by looming hills, it was as isolated as it was beautiful.
She would have food, water, and shelter. Most importantly, it would be worlds away from the dangerous bikers and the virus.
But that also meant leaving the animals behind. The thought made her sick. The cabin was her eventual destination, but she couldn’t leave the area completely, not while the Headhunters were still here and the animals weren’t safe.
But she needed to escape the zoo for now. If she had to, she could hide out for days in the woods of the Piedmont National Wildlife Refuge and nature preserve. They wouldn’t find her. She would be safe while she waited for them to get bored and leave.
Once they were gone, she could return to the zoo. This was temporary. She promised herself it was only temporary. She would return, and the animals would still be okay. Hungry and grumpy, but okay.
There was one big problem, though. Her backpack was still in the lodge.
She had to retrieve the pack, and not just for the map.
She needed her snares for catching small game, the lures and wire for fishing, the water filtration kit to keep her drinking water free of contaminants, the flint to make fire, her compass for direction, the tarp and rope, and a sleeping bag for warmth and shelter.
Without the contents of her pack, she wouldn’t last long in the harsh elements, exposed to the cold, the rain, cut off from shelter, heat, and running water.
Her father had drilled the facts of survival into her long ago. Without survival supplies, she would succumb quickly to exposure.
Tonight, under the cover of darkness, she would creep back to the lodge and retrieve the pack from her bedroom. Much as she loathed the thought of going anywhere near the bikers, she had to risk it. There wasn’t another option.
She couldn’t remain inside the zoo any longer. She had to run for her life.
In the distance, the bonobos screeched grumpily. The bears growled at each other. The foxes and coyotes yipped and howled their discontent.
The animals were hungry. They were upset, anxious. Maybe they just wanted to be fed. Maybe their keen primal senses recognized the threat infiltrating their sanctuary.
Raven turned her head. Luna’s piercing, judgmental eyes stared straight into hers, as if the wolf knew what she was thinking. That she planned to leave, to flee, abandoning the animals to their fates.
Guilt speared her ribs. A sickening sensation in her stomach made her nauseous.
She dropped her gaze from the wolf’s. What could she possibly do? She was one teenage girl against an army. She hated the idea of running away with every fiber of her being, but she was out of options. Wasn’t she?
“It’s only for a little while,” she whispered. “I’ll be back. I promise. It’ll be okay. It has to be okay.”
Once the bikers left, she would come back. The next thought came unbidden: what if it was too late for the animals? They couldn’t survive without her, not in their cages, not without a steady supply of food. They needed her.
She told herself this was the right move. The animals would be fine. The dangerous thugs would leave. She would come back. They could live off the food in the storage sheds for a month, and then make a plan from there. It was going to be okay.
But no matter how many times she repeated it like a mantra, she couldn’t make it true.