Two
Jett
He was fast. But, I was stealthy. I heard him before I saw him. He wasn’t where he was supposed to be. The evening patrols usually stayed to the northeast until after midnight. This guy had either gotten lax, or maybe they’d issued new orders. In any event, the ground crunched beneath his feet as I hid behind the brush. I just managed to dive through the tunnel opening before he got to me.
I didn’t move, not even to breathe. Just a thin layer of foliage and bundled branches stood between me and disaster. Leaves crunched under his heavy footsteps. He stopped just a few feet from the camouflaged trap door. Earth rained down over my face as he drew closer. The moon was too bright. If he looked down...hell...if the wind changed, he’d find me.
A shout from the camp drew his attention and my heart started to beat again.
“Murphy! You’re gonna need to help me get him out. His legs are gone.”
“Son of a bitch,” Murphy muttered. “If they ended up killing that fucker, I am not taking the heat for it.”
I started to breathe easier as Murphy turned toward camp. From my vantage point, he looked giant. I stared straight up his tree trunk legs. He had a mass of thick black hair hanging past his shoulders. Running a hand over the rough stubble on his chin, he cocked his head and started to walk back. I got brave, straightening. I threaded my fingers through the tangled tree roots we’d tied to the makeshift door. Murphy froze. The wind changed. His nostrils flared and he turned back toward the woods. I caught a glimpse of his wolf eyes flashing gold beneath the moonlight. That was a good sign. If his eyes went blood-red, I’d be in deep shit.
Finally, he turned his back to me and headed the other way. I squeezed the tree branches so hard I’m surprised they didn’t turn to powder. I waited, watching Murphy’s back as he trudged through the thick brush and out of sight. Slowly, I emerged from my hole in the ground.
I couldn’t risk standing upright. All it would take was one careless step and Murphy or one of the others would catch my scent. The smartest play would have been staying hidden in the tunnel. No, the even smarter play would have been to get the hell out of here or never come in the first place. Vera’s stern voice rose up in my mind. If she knew I came out here tonight, I wouldn’t put it past her to seal up the tunnels behind me.
Carefully picking my way through the brush, I got the camp in my line of sight again. Raising my scope to my eye, I zeroed in on the cinderblock cells. I counted five of them in this quadrant. To the east, there were ten more. Those were empty though. I’d been there last night.
I couldn’t be sure, but my guess was only four of those cells had current occupants. The walls didn’t go all the way to the ground, leaving about a half a foot gap in each. It was how the guards passed food to the inmates. When I pressed my cheek to the ground, I could see legs and feet in three of them. The last cell on the easternmost side drew my attention. Its occupant was lying on his side, his face pointed toward the opening.
My breath caught as I focused my scope straight at him. The moon shone bright enough that I could make out his features. Hell, if I wanted to, if I had the laser sight, I probably could have gotten a shot off. Maybe that would have been for the best. A bullet straight between the eyes might be something he’d beg for if he knew it was an option.
My heart thundered in my chest as I watched him sleep. A week’s worth of grime covered his face. His hair might have been blond, but it was matted with dirt and blood. He had a deep gash over his right eye. On a normal man, it might have been a mortal wound. On a wolf shifter like him, he’d probably heal by morning.
He was big. Huge, actually. Even lying down, his long legs stretched almost to the opposite side of the cell. How tall would that make him, I wondered. Six and a half feet, at least. Though his face looked gaunt from malnutrition, he had striking, broad cheekbones and a generous mouth. It curved up as he slept as if he were dreaming of something pleasant. I found myself hoping he was. Poor fucker. It was probably the only time he ever got peace. Yes. A quick bullet in the brain from my rifle would bring him mercy he probably didn’t deserve. He was still a shifter, after all.
His eyes snapped open and my world seemed to shift on its axis. In a tiny instant, he found my gaze. His eyes went from cold blue to glinting silver as his wolf stirred.
“Shit,” I muttered, crawling backward, commando-style.
He lifted his head. Agony etched deep lines in his brow. He tried to sit up, but his legs didn’t seem to work right.
“Gunnar!” A whisper cut through the stillness. “They’re back for you!”
He looked straight at me. There could be no doubt. I crouched about fifteen yards away, but he saw me. His agonized expression turned to solemn acceptance as two pairs of booted feet entered his cell. He groaned as arms reached down. The chains binding his wrists and ankles scraped against the ground as they hauled him to his feet. He didn’t scream. He didn’t beg. He just put one bloodied foot in front of the other as they led him out into the night.
Sweat trickled down my back as I held the rifle steady. I could have ended it. One breath. One beat. One squeeze of the trigger and I could have put the man out of his misery. What then? The guards would have easily tracked where the shot came from. I had the advantage of surprise, but two full-blooded shifters on my scent and I wouldn’t make it ten feet.
I should have gone. I’d seen enough, hadn’t I? I promised Melanie I’d only wanted to see if any new prisoners had been brought in since the last time we ran recon. Now I knew. They had. It didn’t prove anything conclusive, of course, but it was a lead. We’d heard rumors Birch Haven College had been liberated last year. We heard they’d captured one of the resistance fighters who’d been responsible. If that were true...if this man had been there the day the college had been set free, I had to talk to him. I had to know what happened.
I took to the shadows again, slinging my rifle over my shoulder. It should be safe now for a while. The patrols had passed. This part of the woods would stay quiet for at least an hour. Plenty of time for me to dive back into the tunnels and head back home. I could even be back before Vera and the others woke. Melanie would know where I’d gone, of course. For now, she covered for me with Vera. But, the day would come when we’d have to have a serious conversation.
I leaned against a tall oak tree, letting the rough bark scrape my back. Once, a long time ago, I’d heard these woods had been teeming with Pack members. No one knew why they’d mostly cleared out. Maybe it was so the Alpha could keep the regular members of the Pack from seeing what went on here. This wasn’t a normal prison camp, if there was such a thing. Only the worst of the worst were sent here to die.
Gunnar. Was that his name? His cellmate had shouted out a warning. Even now, I could still see the shadow of the other man’s legs. He’d fallen asleep himself. The cellblocks were laid out in a straight row. On the other side of him, I saw two more sets of feet. The man on the far end, second from the last, wasn’t moving. Come to think of it, I hadn’t seen him move at all since I started watching. Dread skittered up my spine. If he was already dead, why did they leave him in there like that?
My heart stopped as I heard the crunch of bone and grunts of pain toward the center of the compound. Gunnar. Could he be the one?
I don’t know what compelled me to stay there that night. But, the man was going to die; of that I was sure. I had hoped to go back and tell the others what I saw so we could make a plan together. I knew now with stone-cold certainty that I might not get another chance. Strong as he looked, that shifter might not survive the night.
They kept him for twenty minutes. Twenty minutes. Such a short amount of time, but it had to have seemed an eternity to him. His cell door opened with a clang. Chains scraped against the ground as they threw him back in and shut the door. I flattened myself to the ground so I could see through the six-inch gap in the wall.
Gunnar’s face had changed shape. He seemed caught between man and wolf. His nose was broken and his lip split. He let out a great, heaving sigh. I watched his chest rise and fall with his erratic breaths that rattled.
Shit. He was dying. I knew that sound.
I don’t remember moving. Before I knew what was happening, I’d crawled on my elbows to within five feet of Gunnar’s cell. God. It was even worse up close. They’d caved his chest in. The fingers on his right hand bent back at wrong angles. As I watched, the skin rippled as his body tried to heal.
Don’t die. I said it over and over again in my mind. Don’t die until I have a chance to find out for sure.
I edged closer, crawling on my belly. I shut my eyes and stopped breathing. I was no shifter. I couldn’t sense the Pack. But, I could hear if they were on the move.
Gunnar’s eyes snapped open, flashing silver and widening. I froze. As he tried to focus, his smile took on a dream-like quality. He probably didn’t know what was real. It felt like I didn’t.
Then, reality slammed straight into me as his fingers closed around my wrist. Even in his weakened state, he moved faster than I could see. His grip tightened, cutting off the blood flow to my fingers. I couldn’t move. I couldn’t breathe. All I could do was stare into those piercing silver eyes.
When his fangs came out, I tried not to scream.