a
ered in painful bruises with the energy level of a factory in nuclear meltdown. Because th
l kill me. I know tha
ears, and honestly, I don't even want to try. The coward I was before would have frozen at that tone. I would have tur
ue to be that girl anymore. I stopped bei
nted to give me the out I needed, an
aller, quicker, lighter. And my life depends on this. I'll
w that sound beyond the flat plain and into the woods, giving myself over to the wilderness
s too much adrenaline and panic flooding my body for m
lready have, but I don't care. I keep moving, focusing on the sharp inhalations and exhalations of my breath, because
ut of shape and has no business running through the woods. His heavy
s, disappearing into the bro
I doing th
ll pay for it in ways I can't even imagine. I've just done the most terrifying thing I could p
, until
never
hich isn't too surprising. There's no way I could run as fast as the buck, and I don't know the landscape of the
from the universe. He saved my life by doing wha
up. It's likely he's hurrying back to his pickup, where he'll slam into the driver's seat and take
lder of a road, my sneakers slapping on pavement before I even realize what's happened. In t
nic turning
ght as its headlights blind me. My mind screams at me to run, to l
even lifting a finger or turning away
ght rear end, as it was for Uncle Clint. A defense maneuver. I have a brief moment to think, Oh, thank God, it's not a
. The car screeches a moment longer and then halts. My palms slap
I'm
gazes with the driver, struck dumb by the fact I almost just died-that I finally made
features, strong jaw, messy black hair, and a five o
d who rose up out of the darkness and
g at each other for several lon
seatbelt, I take off toward the other side of the road and the shelter of the
don'
ntil I'm climbing steeply pitched slopes into the foothills. I lose all sense of time and direction. I could be racing
est burns as if my lungs are on fire, and my muscles are shaky and weak. I lean over, pressing my hands into my knees, and focus on taking deep breaths. A
d back against the cool bark. A sprained ankle
and I have a fleeting worry that I'm los
ngs that've happened tonight leaves me reeling. My mind can't quite comprehend all of it, and when I tr
it will crush me. It will dwarf me, lea
hat's all I can handle right now. A minute at a time.Pressing a hand
hances are slim Uncle Clint will find me this deep in the wilderness, but why tempt fate? I c
hing myself against the trunk before I can keel over into the undergrowth. The run took a lot out
re are strange dark lines etched into the bark beneath my palm, and I lift my hand, swaying as
st bears. Not that the idea of bears being nearby gave me any kind
as quick as I can. I trip over my own feet several times, barely able to stay upright, but I manage to move several more yards thro
dips downward sharply, I'm not prepared for it. My steps falter, and I stumble, falling forward.
farther apart, and I ha
d grunt forcing its way out of my lungs as
the bottom of the ravin
rk when my ey
a how much time has passed since I blacked ou
irt and my arms tangled beneath me. It's colder here, and my extremities ache fro
ough to know tha
ng at the air. Not a bear, as I expected, but a wolf. It takes a
ve. I can't even seem to get an open line of communication between my brain and m
y eyes and hope d
ve passed
is barely more than a flicker of awareness, I fe
, my head resting against a broad