by Bethany Shaw
“Your mom can cook,” she commented as he set the bag down and plopped down next to her. “Do you want to share one or eat a whole one each?”
Vincent thought about it for a moment, weighing his options. “Let’s share. I don’t think I can stomach a whole one myself, and better safe than sorry. We might need to ration our food.”
Sarah dug into the bag and produced their lunch.
“I’m salivating already,” Vincent smiled.
Sarah bumped him with her elbow as she laughed. “Stop!”
“Sorry, I’m just mentally preparing myself for the assault my taste buds are going to endure,” he continued with a laugh.
“You’re insufferable,” she commented, tearing into the package.
“Maybe, but you think I’m funny.”
Sarah giggled, her sapphire eyes lighting up brightly. She offered him the tray of dehydrated, preserved food first. He picked up a piece of what he thought was meat and placed it in his mouth.
“Well?” Sarah grinned.
Vincent coughed as he attempted to chew the food—if you could call it that—and not spit it out. “It’s even worse than I imagined. I swear you’re trying to poison me.”
Sarah picked up a piece of food and plopped it in her mouth. “My mom wasn’t much of a cook and my dad worked long hours as a doctor. We ate a lot of takeout growing up, but we always had dinner together.”
“I need a drink of water.”
“You need to eat more,” Sarah replied, ignoring him.
“You’re trying to kill me.”
“It’s not that bad,” she laughed.
“Says the takeout queen.”
“Hey!”
His stomach rumbled loudly. Despite the horrid taste of the food, he couldn’t deny his hunger, especially if he wanted any hope of shifting. He closed his eyes and swallowed the dreadful thing. The taste caused his stomach to lurch, the animal in him wanting nothing to do with the dehydrated, who-knows-how-long-it’s-been-that-way piece of meat. Once he was sure the food was going to stay down, he opened his eyes and reached back into the container.
His fingers brushed up against Sarah’s soft, dainty hand. She pulled back, her gaze flickering to his.
“Sorry,” she whispered, clasping her hands together.
“It’s okay, you go ahead,” he replied, not taking his eyes off her.
She smiled and looked down at the food then back up at him. Sarah was so close, her perfect pink, full lips mere inches from his. Her chest heaved as she leaned in toward him. His eyes flickered to her mouth, watching as her tongue darted out wetting her lips. Did she want to kiss him as much as he wanted to kiss her? Nervously, he lifted his hand and pushed her golden hair out of her face, slowly closing the gap between them.
Her warm breath puffed against his face and she blinked before letting her eyes fall shut. Mustering up the courage to close the distance, he leaned closer.
A loud rumble jolted him back to reality. He pulled away from her and shot to his feet.
“What is it?” Sarah asked, looking around wildly. “Did you hear something?” she whisper shouted at him.
“I hear a truck,” he stated, putting a finger over his lips and motioned for her to follow him.
Sarah wrapped up the food and shoved it into the sack. She picked up their bag, zipped it up, and slung it on her back in case they needed it and didn’t have time to come back for it. Once she’d finished packing up, she crept after Vincent.
Vincent pushed through the dense auburn foliage. They came to a small creek bed; he walked across the stones one at a time. The vehicle screeched and whined loudly as it drew closer. He turned to Sarah and she nodded for them to check it out. Vincent continued on, moving through the brush.
The trees finally ended, and he could make out the black road ahead. He ducked down in the brush and Sarah crouched next to him, waiting for the vehicle. Waves of heat radiated off the pavement. The squeak grew even louder as a red pickup grumbled to a stop across the street.
Sarah drew in a deep breath as the front and passenger doors both opened and slammed shut with a thump.
“Are they wolves?” she whispered so low, he barely heard her.
Vincent inhaled, closing his eyes. The distinct woodsy scent of wolves entered his nostrils and he nodded. He recognized the scent—Luna’s men. This was the opportunity they were waiting for. They were going to take advantage of the situation. He crept closer and ducked down behind a fallen log.
“I only see the two. We could get the truck and have a way out of here,” she mumbled.
“We just need to draw them far enough away from the truck so we can take it.”
“I’ll distract them while you go in for the kill,” Sarah volunteered.
“Are you sure?” he questioned.
“I can do this. The more of them we take out the less of a threat they are,” she reasoned.
“Be careful. You have your weapon, Buffy?”
Sarah smiled at his joke and patted her boot. She rolled up her pant leg and slowly withdrew the sharpened stake.
“Ready?” she asked, moving her hair over to one shoulder as she watched the two men.
Vincent grasped her hand in his and gave it a firm squeeze. “I’ll see you in a minute,” he promised.
Sarah closed her eyes and relished in the safety of Vincent’s touch. She blew out a breath as she tucked her weapon against her arm and thigh, hiding the point in her palm. She got to her feet, and hopped over the log and ran into the street, forcing herself to limp as she went.
“Oh thank god,” she exclaimed. “Please help me!”
One of the men turned around, his dark brown eyes widening as he took her in. The other man leaned forward against the hood of the truck.
“Everything okay?” the brown-eyed man asked.
No! But it will be.
“I had an accident in the woods. My...my boyfriend. We got separated. I don’t know...I don’t know where he is,” she sputtered, hoping she sounded disoriented.
“Calm down, little lady,” the man said, pushing off the truck. He sauntered toward her, a wry smile on his face. Her stomach curdled as he slid a hand back through his long, slicked onyx-colored hair. “We’ll get you into town and alert the proper authorities. You’re safe now,” he grinned, giving her a toothy smile.
Sarah shuddered, but forced a smile on her face as she sighed. “Thank you.”
“Come on,” the brown-eyed man said, grasping her arm.
Sarah reacted on instinct. She slipped her stake down into her palm, swung her arm back, and jabbed the sharp edge into the man’s abdomen. The man grunted and pitched forward, his hands flying to his belly. Sarah backed up, her eyes honing in on the red blotch forming on his white shirt. Oh god! I can’t believe I really just did that! Her hands trembled. She watched horrified as he dropped to his knees and fell forward onto his palms.
“What the hell?” the other wolf started as he ran forward.
Vincent darted out of the trees and tackled the unharmed enemy to the ground, punching him repeatedly in the face. Sarah watched as the two men rolled across the pavement, both throwing punches and kicks. Sarah desperately tried to keep up with the movement as her eyes darted back and forth in an attempt to get a fix on whether Vincent needed her help or not.
Consumed by the fight, she barely noticed something was grazing against her thigh until it latched around her wrist. She gasped and tugged her arm away, but the man she stabbed held her and refused to let go. Panic bubbled up inside her, causing her pulse to roar in her ears. She balled her free hand and struck out, connecting with the man’s nose. A sickening crack filled the air as he howled loudly.
Sarah stumbled backwards, putting a safe distance between her and the injured man. She let her eyes drift from her enemy to Vincent. The latter of the two slowly stood up from the ground, brushing sand and dirt from his clothes.
He held up a pair of keys. “Need a lift?” he smiled, goofily even though his vo
ice was serious.
Sarah blinked, momentarily frozen in place before sprinting to the passenger door. She opened the door and hopped in, slamming it shut behind her.
Vincent jammed the key into the ignition and turned it over. The truck roared to life, lurching forward as he pressed down on the pedal.
“You okay?” Vincent asked, glancing between her and the rearview mirror.
“I think so. You?” she whispered, looking down at her fingers. Her hands were crimson colored from her actions. Her fingers began to shake and she cried out as she tried to wipe the mess on her pants.
Vincent’s hand clamped down over hers. “It’s okay.”
“I just want to get it off,” she hissed.
“We’ll find a spot to clean up as soon as we can,” he assured.
“Okay,” she whispered, inhaling sharply. She closed her eyes, remembering the cool dead eyes of the man she’d killed back at the Harris ranch. The only thing she could remember was rage. She’d beaten him relentlessly even after he’d stopped moving. It haunted her.
A shudder rippled down her spine as she recalled that evening. She’d been covered in blood then, too. She’d been in a fit of rage—she hadn’t been thinking then. Today was different; she knew what she was getting into for the most part. It terrified her how easily she had attacked and killed a man.
“It’s always hard when you take someone else’s life. I’m not sure you ever get over it, but you have to keep in mind it was self-defense. Those were Luna’s men and you can bet their intentions for us weren’t good. If you want to talk about it, we can,” Vincent suggested.
“It’s different when you’re in your right mind. When you can see them,” she said, staring at the open road. “Last time...” she paused, clearing her throat. “They were hurting Lark and Nora. I could only see red. The only thing on my mind was protecting Lark.”
“It is different,” he agreed. “But you have to remember, Sarah, we are at war, and we have to protect ourselves. It’s them or us. Come here,” he opened up his arm, and she slid in next to him, resting her head on his shoulder.
Sarah closed her eyes and relaxed against his firm, comforting body. Vincent made her feel safe; her frazzled body seemed to agree, her heart slowed, and her breathing evened out.
Her revere was broken when a loud beep followed by a crackle filled the vehicle. Her eyes caught sight of a walkie-talkie as a voice shouted over the intercom. “They took our truck,” a man growled out.
Sarah moved away from Vincent, snatching the black walkie-talkie clipped to the visor above her head.
“Where are you?” Another voice demanded.
“About two miles from the Sheriff’s office,” the first voice responded.
“Chip, get ahold of Sheriff Morris. Have him set up a blockade. They cannot be allowed to leave,” the other voice barked. “Barricade the highway now.”
Sarah gulped and turned to Vincent. “Do you think we can make it out of here?”
Vincent ran a hand through his hair as he punched the gas. The trees whizzed by faster. A loud wail sounded behind them and Sarah turned in her seat, groaning as flashing lights blinked at her.
Chapter Seven
Sarah gripped the tan, leather headrest as she peered out the back window. Blue and red lights danced across the interior of the vehicle and the loud wail of sirens set every nerve in her body on edge.
“He’s gaining on us,” Vincent stated. “Sit down and buckle up.”
She twisted around, plopped down, and quickly snapped the seat belt into the buckle. Her eyes flicked to the speedometer; they were going dangerously fast. She hoped Vincent knew what he was doing behind the wheel.
“See if there is a cell phone in here anywhere. We could call Dev,” Vincent instructed.
Sarah looked in the cup holders then opened the center console and dug through the contents. When that turned up nothing, she opened the glove box. Exasperated, she leaned forward to check the floorboards. There had to be something in here.
“It looks like we just got the walkie-talkie,” Sarah sighed deflated.
“I don’t suppose that will call Abilene,” Vincent huffed.
The hand held device crackled as a voice came over the com. “We got a blockade set up a few miles ahead.
Sarah shook her head. Her stomach lurched, churning uncomfortably as they neared the turn. “Yeah, I highly doubt we’ll be calling anyone,” she murmured, glancing at the road. “We can’t call home, but at least we can hear what’s going on as long as we are in range,” she said, peering out the windshield. The road in front of them was empty, but she could make out a bend ahead and wondered if that’s where the Lunas were.
“Looks like we’ll be testing the four-wheel drive. Ever been off-roading before?” Vincent asked.
“You know they say you don’t really get a real feel for something until you’ve experienced it first hand,” she said, holding her breath and willing the nervous jitters away.
Sarah gripped the handrail as they whipped around the corner. About a quarter of a mile up the road, there was a barricade: a police cruiser, two white cars, and a pickup all lined the street.
Vincent slammed on the brakes, sending her flying forward. The seat belt constricted across her chest, and threw her back into the seat.
Vincent shifted the gears on the truck and punched the gas. He steered them down into the ditch. The truck shook, bumping from side-to-side as they moved over the uneven terrain. Sarah squeezed her eyes shut, unable to watch. If they were going to crash, she didn’t want to know.
“Hold onto something!” Vincent instructed as the car lurched to the side.
She was thrust to her left and the jarring, bumps stopped. Anxiously, she peeked one eye open, then the other. They were back on the road. Relief washed over her—now they just needed to leave their pursuers in the dust.
Sarah looked back, craning her neck to see behind them; the vehicles scrambled to turn around so they could follow.
Their car groaned as Vincent stepped on the gas and made a sharp right turn. Her body listed to the side, colliding with the door. Vincent turned again at the next road, causing the tires to squeal as they fought to keep their traction on the pavement. Vincent held the wheel steady as he gained control of the truck.
The walkie-talkie exploded with chaos as the Lunas began to yell at each other though the device. Sarah let out a relieved breath. We got away, but where are we going? Does Vincent have a plan?
“Do you know where you are going?” she asked over the commotion.
“Not really. I just wanted to make sure we lost them.”
Sarah gazed out the back window. So far, no one was behind them. She held her breath, watching for movement on the road. Several long, agonizing moments passed before she slumped down in her seat. “I think we’re good,” she said, relieved.
“Great! Now, we just need to find a spot to lay low until it gets dark. If they have the sheriff working with them, then they more than likely have this vehicle listed as stolen.”
“Where are we going to hide out?” Sarah questioned.
“I haven’t decided yet,” Vincent replied.
“You’re alarmingly good at this,” she observed.
“I’ve had a little practice.”
“Running from the law?” she asked, frowning. What could Vincent possibly have done that warranted running from the police?
“No,” he muttered. “Evading my dad.” He punched the small radio dial and rock music erupted into the car.
“Oh.” She clasped her hands together, unsure what to say to him. “I’m sorry.” Heat engulfed her face. A simple apology wouldn’t change anything, nor would it take away the thick, awkward silence between the two of them. The radio still blared and scouts continued to come over the COM.
“Yeah, me too,” Vincent said after a long moment. He stared straight ahead. His grip on the wheel tightened, turning his knuckles pale white.
Sarah swallowed and looked
out her window. Her heart clenched as she thought about all the horrors the McKinley’s and Harris’ endured. She couldn’t imagine growing up like that; it made her wish there was something more she could do for him.
***
Vincent pulled into the parking lot and set the car in park. He surveyed the lot before switching the ignition off and turning to his companion. Sarah sat slumped against the window. Her blonde hair was draped over her face like a curtain. He could tell by her soft, even breathing that she was sleeping soundly.
Reaching out, he brushed the pads of his fingers over her forearm. Her skin was smooth and soft, except for where she had cuts. “Sarah.” He gently shook her. “Wake up,” he coaxed.
Sarah groaned and sat up straighter, yawning as she met his eyes. “Where are we?”
“Near a bus station. I thought we should get some clothes first,” he said, nodding to a store.
Sarah stretched and followed his gaze. “Sounds good. I feel pretty gross. How do you want to work going in? We both have blood on our clothes and aren’t exactly presentable for public outings.”
“I think we both look equally horrible. We may as well both go in together,” Vincent stated.
Sarah pulled down the visor and looked into the mirror. She ran her fingers through her golden locks, but her fingers quickly got tangled in the knotted mess. She huffed and dropped her hands into her lap.
“Ready?” he asked.
“I suppose so.”
“You look great,” he stated. Sarah narrowed her eyes, fixing him with a pointed glare. He couldn’t help but wonder if he’d offended her. “You do! We had a little wilderness adventure. You look beautiful and rustic.” Even with mud stuck to her clothes and smudges of dirt on her face, she was beautiful.
“Humph.”
“Let’s just get in and out,” he insisted, hoping the matter would get dropped.
Sarah hopped out of the car and hissed as her face contorted in pain.
“You okay?”
“All that running and climbing has caught up to me; my muscles are stiff and sore. Guess my adrenaline finally simmered down.”
