Red Moon Rising

40. tracks

Chapter Song: Song for Zula - Phosphorescent

XX

It's the kind of late autumn night that I would have reveled in not so long ago. The sky is clear and crisp, revealing a pale wash of stars like a belt across the atmosphere. Through the trees, unbroken snow glitters beneath a crescent moon. The earth is perfectly still.

Cam, Tasha, and I used to stargaze together on nights like this. We'd sweep away a snow encrusted picnic table near the lodge and lay back in winter coats and sleeping bags, noses stinging on the inhale, breath fogging our vision on the exhale. These were good moments, clear moments—surreal gaps in space that are jarring to think about as my boots crunch through the top layer of snow. I don't care if I never recover from this, if I never love another deeply or run on four legs again. I would trade it all just to have that moment now, to slip effortlessly out of this one and back where I belong.

This time, I was able to grab a hat, coat, mittens, and an extra layer of socks. It's enough to cut the worst of the cold, which worms its way along the edges of my sleeves and around the collar of my coat. My nose shifts from numb to throbbing, and I take moments to blow warm breath against my hands and across my face but it only makes the air feel even icier when I pull away. But I don't mind it so much. To worry about the cold now would be to consider another option, and I have none.

Still, I huddle in on myself as I make my way toward the border. No roads this time, no roads and no town. I don't trust that the way back to Cedar Falls will be free of Isaac's wolves, and I don't trust that I'll be safe even when I get to a populated area. Who has Isaac been meeting? I doubt it's other wolves. Maybe he's meeting business associates of some kind—trappers, or the cops. Or maybe Paul. I don't want to be seen by any of them.

I pause as my boots slip down on uneven ground, jarring up my leg. Shadowed ridges of snowmobile tracks stare up at me, prickling the skin of my neck. Now where did these come from? I'm not off the territory yet, and I've kept track of my direction since I left the school—these tracks are coming from another direction. They're fresh too, snow still crumbling at either edge of the tread. I'm about to turn around when my eyes catch on a faint glimmer that at first I take to be starlight, but it's too low in the trees. And then I see another, an even row of mounted lights in the distance.

Turn around, Layla. I should turn around now and forget about whatever building Isaac has been hiding in these woods. No one has ever mentioned any facilities outside of the yard. These grounds are extended from the original boarding school lot, too, which means that Isaac and his pack intentionally built this here, tucked away from prying eyes. Fuck it feels like being split in two to have my heart pull me toward those light while my terror wrenches my body back. What if there are women there that I am leaving behind? What if this is where Cam and Mikey would have eventually brought me?

If I make it out, the first thing that I will do is call my dad. He'll tell the council and Tom Bartels, who for all his faults is the only cop that I will ever trust to help someone out of this. But if I get caught right now, I will be fucking over myself and anyone else Isaac is hurting. If he really is involved with traffickers then Isaac deserves to pay, and I am the one who can make that happen right now.

One step, and then two more, and I am forcing myself to cross the snowmobile tracks and trek away from the hidden building. I shouldn't have left my footprints across those tracks, but I'd already unintentionally tread at the edges, enough for anyone to notice if they drove along that way. Maybe my element of surprise has just been compromised; I'm not going to stick around to find out. I force my legs to walk faster, gritting my teeth against the damp of melting snow that falls over the top of my boots.