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