by Melissa Haag
We walked hand in hand back to the road. When we reached the bike, she turned to eye me. I studied her just as closely.
“You’re pale,” I said, brushing my fingers along her cheek. “And you’re still bleeding. We need to get that looked at.”
“Or you could just take us to a hotel, I could clean up and you could help me with some gauze and tape.”
Gauze and tape wouldn’t be enough. I was about to say so when she held up her hand.
“We can’t afford the questions a hospital would ask.”
She was right.
“And we can’t ride around with you looking like that,” she said, when I moved toward the bike for clothes.
I looked down at myself. Blood coated my skin, my shirt, my pants…I was red from head to toe. I could change but would probably get the new clothes dirty in the process.
“What do you suggest?” I asked, looked back at her.
She pointed to the nearby marsh, which had a thin layer of ice over the water it offered. Humor drifted around her.
“You’re liking this, aren’t you?”
“I’ll get Tinker Bell ready.”
I snorted and started toward the water. My pants and shirt were beyond cleaning, but I wasn’t stripping with her watching.
“And you better hurry,” she said from behind me. “Who knows what’s still headed in this direction.”
I pulled my shirt over my head and tossed it far into the bushes. Then, gritting my teeth, I kicked off my shoes and stepped out onto the ice. Water soaked my socks and seeped up my pant legs. Although I had no worry about things like hypothermia like a human would, the cold didn’t feel too good when it hit my thighs. I didn’t move any deeper.
Using my hands, I splashed water onto my face, hair and chest, painting the surrounding ice pink with my efforts.
Behind me, Bethi’s breathing grew more pained.
Twelve
Turning, I found Bethi standing in the same spot, her vacant gaze pointed at the ground and her arm wrapped around her middle. Shivers shook her body, and she swayed slightly on her feet.
“Hang in there,” I said, but I doubt she heard me.
I hurried to finish rinsing away the remaining blood. Once I thought I had it all, I shook the water from my hair and wiped my hand down each arm. The water ran clear. I turned and found Bethi staring at me with half-lidded eyes. It wasn’t desire, but sheer exhaustion.
My sloshing steps from the water seemed to draw her attention. I crossed the road, heading for the bike and dry clothes. My pants were a wet mess, and I would need to change out of them.
“If we drive straight through, how long till we get there?” she asked as I reached the bike and opened the bags. She continued to watch me as I pulled out a clean pair of pants.
“If nothing happens?” I walked behind her, and she didn’t try to turn to look. “Ten to twelve hours depending on the roads we take.” I stripped off the wet pants and pulled on the dry pair. Going back to the bike, I fished new socks from the bag.
She watched me tug them on.
“We need to push through. I can’t take another run in,” she said as I pulled on my shoes.
I didn’t like the beat look in her eyes. Although I agreed she couldn’t handle another fight, pushing through wouldn’t help her. She wasn’t thinking clearly. She was tired and needed rest.
Moving to stand before her, I opened my mouth to suggest we find her a place to clean up. The bloody front of her shirt was going to create a distinct scent trail.
“No, Luke. I can’t. I’m done. Do you get it? Just done.”
Her defeated tone tore at my heart. I gripped her arms lightly and gave her a gentle squeeze before carefully pulling her into a loose hug. Her arm stayed wrapped around her middle just as tightly as the scent of her pain wrapped around me.
I kissed her hair and rested my cheek on top of her head for a moment, trying to encase her with my love and protection.
“Don’t give up. Not now.”
She exhaled shakily and leaned into me for a moment.
“We need to get moving,” she said. “Every minute we stay in one place, the more likely they are to find us again.”
I could tell she wanted to pull away, so I gave her room. Before she could leave, I lifted her chin so she would meet my gaze.
“We’ll get there,” I said. I wasn’t sure how or in what shape, but I was determined. These men who were after us needed to be stopped. All of the Elders needed to get involved.
I looked at the circles under Bethi’s beautiful eyes. She didn’t deserve what had happened to her. She deserved care and consideration. Love and appreciation.
Her gaze drifted down to my lips, and her pulse jumped. I knew the direction of her thoughts and, as much as I wanted to love and appreciate her, now wasn’t the moment. However, remembering that became difficult when she wrapped her free arm around me and touched my bare back.
“Bethi, don’t…”
“Don’t what? Don’t think of how that kiss felt? Don’t wish that you’d let your guard down enough to let it happen again so I can forget everything else and imagine a world where just you and I exist? A safe place where I can sleep without haunting dreams? A place where men don’t chase me down and cut me? Yeah, I better not. Reality and morals are way better, anyway.”
Conflicting emotions tore through me as I watched her walk away to wait by the bike. She liked kissing me and wanted to do it again. And the way she said “you and I” like we were already a pair was music to me. A grin almost won out over the worry the rest of her words had created. But temptation to smile died quickly as I watched her hug her arm to her waist.
She’d been chased down and injured, and it sounded like she resented me for it. Although she’d been the one to run from me, I willingly took the blame. I should have anticipated she was up to something. Her scent had been different.
Annoyed with myself, I followed her and got on the bike. Without looking at me, she reached into the saddle bags and handed me a clean shirt. She waited until I’d pulled the material over my head.
Each move she made as she positioned herself on the bike was slow and measured, her pain palpable. She settled the bag around her shoulders first then lifted the strap over my head. While I tightened it, she put her arms around my waist and pressed her cheek against my back. Her skin cooled me through the thin shirt. How had I not noticed how cold she was? I was so tired of failing her. She needed food and a warm, safe place to rest. Why was that so hard?
I started the engine and turned my head.
“No falling asleep,” I said.
“Good one. Just get us there before I bleed out. And don’t stop because I fall asleep. Just nudge me or something,” she mumbled against my back.
The last time we’d tried that, things hadn’t gone well. My palm tingled, and a fine sweat coated my face. Shifting slightly in my seat, I pulled away from the shoulder and let the cool air dry my face. If she started leaning to the side, I’d try to grab for her hair.
She managed to stay awake for a few miles as I drove north, pushing straight toward our destination. When I came to a group of five other motorcycles heading in the same direction, I felt Bethi smile and relax further.
We stayed at the back of their group while Bethi drifted into one of her dreams. She didn’t twitch as much in this one and stayed centered longer than I’d thought possible. I wasn’t sure if that was a good thing or a bad. The scent of her blood hadn’t lessened and my back felt wet. I wanted to stop, but keeping with the other bikes would help cover her scent trail.
Bethi did finally start to slide when the group signaled for a back road. Instead of following, I kept going straight. When her right arm grew slack, I knew she would slip further if I didn’t straighten her soon.
Although grabbing for her hair would have been safer for me, it wouldn’t have been for her. So I once again reached back to push her upright. Thankfully, this time I caught her arm, and she settled ont
o my back once more.
As the sun dropped so did the temperature, and Bethi started to shiver. I could push through to the final leg of our journey; but if she was right, there would be more mutts waiting for us. Between the dark and her current state, I couldn’t risk another ambush. So, I kept my eyes open for a quiet place to stay. With her still bloody, and my back likely coated red, I couldn’t pick a hotel.
I pulled into every overgrown driveway. Many led to fields. Some led to poorly kept but very inhabited homes. Although I was disappointed with my continued lack of luck, I kept trying.
It was over an hour later that I pulled into a long, overgrown drive that lead through trees which opened to overgrown fields. Ahead on a slight rise, I saw a barn and the charred remains of a house. Snow had recently dusted the area and pooled in shallow patches between the upright tufts of grass. My breath fogged with each exhale, and I knew Bethi had to be cold. But, the barn would provide us with the shelter we needed.
It was about time our luck changed. The sun had already dipped below the tree line in a vivid display of orange and red. I wanted to get her settled before full dark.
When the drive faded into hip length dried grass, I stopped and killed the engine. Bethi’s pulse jumped, and a moment later, she lifted her head.
“Why did we stop?” she asked as I loosened the strap.
“I’d rather approach the Compound in daylight.” Our quiet voices carried in the twilight. “How is the cut?”
She pulled the strap from over my head and climbed off the back. I stood and watched her gently stretch her legs. The slight bend she kept to her middle told me what I needed to know. The cut wasn’t doing well.
She shrugged in response to my question. “Why here?”
The front of her shirt was completely dark, and I could feel my shirt sticking to my back. Stepping forward, I unzipped Bethi’s jacket and tried lifting the shirt. I needed to see if it was still bleeding. But the material didn’t lift. It was dried on. I really didn’t like that. I also didn’t like how she was already shivering.
“Those guys following us are too used to looking at hotels. I thought this would be safer.” Yet, now I doubted the decision. Bethi’s cut needed to be looked at—there were a few at the Compound who could do that without needing to take Bethi to a hospital—and she needed to rest somewhere above freezing.
“Some real sleep sounds good,” she said in a wistful tone with a glance at the leaning barn. I should have known she wouldn’t care too much about where we’d sleep. She had bigger concerns.
I sighed and gently touched her cheek. “You’ll tell me if it starts hurting,” I said.
She snorted. “It hasn’t stopped hurting.”
“I imagine not,” I said, dropping my hand.
Taking the bag from her, I started pushing the bike uphill through the grass toward the barn. Bethi quietly and slowly followed. Although the old barn leaned heavily to one side, it had a solid roof. As we drew closer, I saw a few of its old boards had rotted at the base. Hopefully it would create air flow without too much chill.
Pushing the bike through the gaping door, I studied the interior. A layer of dust and bits of old hay covered the floor. Even with the gaps in the boards, the interior smelled old and musty but in a good way. Bethi sneezed and groaned. I winced thinking how that must have felt.
“I’ll look around,” I said, moving to check the back of the building. I was hoping for an old horse blanket or something to use as a cover but found nothing. Maybe that was for the best. With an open cut, she would have likely gotten an infection. She probably still would. I wanted nothing more than to pull out my phone and call Gabby to tell her to come get us. Yet, if I did that, would we be attacked again while we waited? I was suffering with two levels of need to keep her safe. Safe from those trying to get her and safe from the elements and infection. Which was the greater danger? The attackers. They’d been willing to hurt her last time. I could only hope an Elder would be at the Compound to treat Bethi when we arrived tomorrow.
Turning, I went back to Bethi. “It’s empty and untouched. We’ll stay here for a few hours.”
Her cold fingers wrapped around mine, and I led her toward the back. When she started to stumble, I flicked on a tiny LED flashlight attached to the bike keys and pointed to an empty stall partitioned by a half wall.
“If you need a moment,” I said softly.
She blushed, grabbed the flashlight, and shooed me away. I didn’t go too far and listened for any sign she was having trouble. I was standing near a dry mound of hay when she stepped from the stall and clicked off the flashlight. She walked blindly down the center aisle, one hand in front of her while the other hand cradled her middle.
“Here,” I said when she drew close. I tugged the bag to lead her off to the side then gently nudged her down onto the pile of hay.
“If I wake up to bugs crawling on me, I will not be happy,” she said as I settled on my back next to her. She quickly scooted closer, half laying on me. Shivers continued to wrack her. I wrapped an arm around her, trying to share my warmth.
“I promise, I will keep them off of you,” I said as she rested her cheek on my chest.
She flattened her hand on my side, her cold fingers branding my skin beneath the shirt.
“I’m glad you’re warm.” She immediately relaxed into me and fell asleep.
I listened for any sign we’d been followed. The night remained quiet except for a light wind rattling something outside the barn. In an effort to keep Bethi warm, I tucked my leg over hers and touched her cheek often. She didn’t seem to get any colder.
As I lay there, my mind went back to the fight. How many had died? Close to fifteen, at least. How had we managed to survive? That thought set my focus on every cut and bruise I carried. There were many.
I reached up and touched my neck, which hurt the worst. As I’d guessed, the wounds were already crusted and mending, but the bastard’s teeth had sunk deep, tearing flesh instead of only puncturing. It hurt like a bitch, and I hated the thought that Bethi was likely suffering far worse pain.
After she’d rested five hours, I woke her.
“All right, luv. It’s time for us to be on our way. The longer we wait, the more likely we are to run into trouble.”
“We’re going to run into it no matter what,” she said lifting her head.
She borrowed the flashlight to use the back stall again then met me by the bike.
“Ready?”
She nodded tiredly and got on behind me.
Though she’d rested, she still fell asleep as we pushed further north. When we turned onto the final road, I nudged her awake.
“We’re less than an hour away,” I called over my shoulder.
She nodded in response but stayed scrunched behind me.
I was just thinking how unusually warm she was starting to feel against me when something emerged from the trees to my right.
“Shit,” I swore and swerved to avoid the mutt’s charge.
Bethi moved behind me.
“They know,” I called back to her.
Her grip tightened around my waist, and I opened the throttle.
There were only three roads into the pack’s territory and, ultimately, the Compound. One came in from the north, one from the southwest, and another from the east. We’d abandoned the eastern route when we’d run into them last time. When they’d found me south of here, I’d kept heading north, hoping they’d think we’d switch from the obvious again. There was no turning around anymore. We were too close.
Watching the mirror, I saw the lone wolf stop running and stand in the middle of the paved lane, no doubt to communicate our location to the rest of his group. It was ten minutes before we saw another one.
A fully changed werewolf ran in front of us, trying to slow me down, but I didn’t let up on the throttle. Leaning, I swerved around the mutt and kept going.
Wolves poured from the woods behind us. More than all the other challenges ad
ded together. If this bike stopped, we wouldn’t have a chance. And I knew this road. There was a curve ahead that would slow us. We needed help.
Using my left hand, I dug my phone out of my right pocket. I quickly rang Gabby and pressed the phone to my ear.
“Gabby, I have a problem,” I said as soon as she answered.
Before I could say more, a chunk of wood came flying at me and hit the phone from my hand. The device flew over my shoulder and tumbled down my back.
A mutt closing in on our right growled as Bethi snatched up the phone.
When she started shouting, I knew she’d redialed Gabby.
“No,” she said. “Bethi. We need help. There are too many. They can’t take me. If they do, we all die. Please!”
She shouted the name of the road, which pushed the mutts to try harder to reach the bike. One closed the distance to within a few yards. The bike didn’t have any more to give. Then, in front of us, more wolves started pouring from the trees.
“Don’t let go!” I said shouted as I swerved to miss the first of them.
I had to let up on the throttle or dump the bike. When I cleared that wave, I opened the throttle again.
The mass of wolves chasing us had gained too much ground when we’d slowed. One caught Bethi’s jacket. She clutched her arms around my waist, locking her hands to secure her hold. The jacket tore. That wolf fell back with his empty prize, and another moved in to take his place running beside the bike. Bethi caught him by surprise by kicking him in the face. The blow tripped him back into his followers, causing several of them to fall back.
Ahead of us, a group of six wolves burst from the woods and raced toward us. The sight of a familiar grey wolf almost relieved me. At least one Elder had arrived. But, who was he helping? Us or them?
“If you get us out of this alive, I swear I’ll stop trying to ambush-Claim you,” Bethi said.
She cringed behind me, and I braced myself as the oncoming wolves ran at us. At the last second, they jumped, sailing over our heads and into the pack of wolves following us.
We have you, son, Grey said in my mind as four of their number surrounded us and two remained behind to fight.
