The Hunted

Forty-Two

Blake had promised and forced him to do the same before kissing him again. In the next second, Red had been a russet wolf darting into the woods and away from her.

The time since had been long and tense and now, through the radio, static and intermingled conversations reached her. Of the wolves in the forest, Phillip had been trusted to lead the ones carrying guns. In the weeks that Blake had been training the wolves, he'd been the most consistent sharpshooter that they could spare. His was the most consistent voice she heard on the radio channel as he barked orders and commanded people into new positions. She chimed in only a few times with the hopes that Malachi understood that she was here and waiting for him.

Even though Blake couldn't see them in the dark shrubbery, she knew that Henry had stationed wolves around the clinic to protect Lucy. Every once in a while, she caught sight of a fluffy tail or luminous eyes. From her vantage point, she could do little to help them if the hunters appeared. The forest here was too dense and with the sun not yet fully risen, it was bathed in shadows. Still, she listened and watched for any sign of the hunters' approach.

For what felt like hours, Blake waited. She stared through the scope and listened to the gunshots and snarling and barks of absolute fury that mixed with the screams of humans. Though time seemed to be moving quickly, the progression of the sun was slow and when Blake checked her watch, she saw that it had only been about twenty minutes.

And still the war did not come to the clinic.

She checked the scope and watched the trees and listened to the whimpers of dying wolves and the groans of dying men – closer than they had been previously. Almost as if they were just on the other side of the treeline.

And still the war did not come to the clinic.

Downstairs, the Luna gave a cry that seemed to reverberate through the air. As if it were a summoning, a small group of hunters stepped forward from the treeline in the east. All of them bloody and dirty but none seemed to be gravely injured. Blake's stomach did a flip. Not their blood then.

They stopped at the edge of the trees but as one made to step forward, his semi-automatic pointed towards the clinic, another held up his hand in a signal to cease movement.

"Wait. I know she's here. Come out, come out, wherever you are, Blake," Malachi called.

Richard backed down, lowering his weapon just slightly but Blake knew that if he even saw a hint of movement behind the clinic doors, he'd open fire. So would Ida, who was watching the forest sceptically. There were two other hunters with them, people Blake didn't know, but there were no wolves in sight – none that appeared and came to challenge the hunters.

It would be so easy to open fire on them right now but Blake knew that she'd only get off one or two shots before they lit up the clinic like the Fourth of July. The risk to Lucy was too great.

Besides, Blake had promised that she'd keep Malachi alive.

"I'm getting tired of waiting, Blake," Malachi called. "You have thirty seconds before I go kill the bitch inside."

Blake left her rifle where it was and angled for the ladder on the back of the building. Swiftly, she climbed down and walked towards the front of the clinic where the leader of the hunters was waiting for her.

Malachi's pale brown eyes lit up gleefully as he saw her emerge. "I knew you'd be here. How are those wounds healing up, by the way? Arm stinging a bit?"