4 - Small Mercies

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The first step to being human is to look like one— and I'm already at a disadvantage. If the silver eyes and the evidence of successful hunts marring my skin aren't bad enough, the knife strapped to my waist is damning. The silver shurikens and the throwing blades are even worse.

So I take the weapons off. I tuck my knife into my shoe, pressed reassuringly against my ankle and hidden under my trousers. I hide the rest in my pockets. There aren't many left, after the fight, but what I have will be useful in an emergency. Out in the wilderness, I never know if wolves are lurking. Sniffing me out and hunting me to exact their revenge.

At least now I don't look so prepared for a fight with werewolves. They'll think twice, and that hesitation will buy me time.

Stretching and shivering, I meander my way through the woods and back up towards the road and lay-by, thinking of making up all the hours I spent helpless and defenceless in the back of a car.

Right as I emerge from the shrubs, I hear the rumble of an approaching car. Fiery panic latches onto my swirling thoughts and sets off a blaze. I dart back into the safety of the shadows and conceal myself behind a trunk, praying for the car to pass right on by.

It's my family. They've found me. They're going to kill me— They're going to— I'm never going to be free—

I watch, paralysed with fear, as the car slows and pulls onto the lay-by right behind my own. Well, behind the one I stole.

The first thing I notice is that it's an entirely different model to the one Liliana drove yesterday. The second— it's not a police car, either. The third and possibly most confusing— the door clicks open and a short elderly woman steps out, looking vaguely lost as she glances around.

That makes two of us.

Beneath the weak moonlight, she makes her careful way over to the abandoned car. My unease melts into obscurity.

She appears alone, so I step forwards, taking care to rustle leaves and snap twigs as I do so. Of us both, I'm fairly certain I have the advantage, and I don't want to scare her off.

She startles badly anyway, pressing her hand to her chest as I emerge from the woods.

"Goodness, you gave me a heart attack, young man!" she exclaims, her voice high and warm and comforting. She laughs breathlessly and forges on, "I thought it was strange to see a car by itself all the way out here! Have you broken down? That's a damn shame. I'd call a tow for you, but it's impossible to get a signal out here."

It takes an effort to rid any trace of grief from my features, to pull up a mask over my expression.

But I manage it. I offer her a timid smile and I say, "Yeah, I already tried. Nothing." My voice is strained after hours and hours of silence, my throat raw and shredded after all the screaming the night before.

An unpleasant shiver scuttles down my spine.

She hesitates, sliding her gaze down my form and back up again. "Are you cold?"

I sniff, blinking back unwelcome tears, and give a little nod. The words come flowing, and I don't have to summon an exhausted, helpless tone— it's right there ready and waiting. "I tried finding a town but there's a lake and I fell in it and lost my phone and I don't know what to do."

"Oh, you poor, sweet thing!" the woman says, shuffling her way over to me. "Come on, where are you trying to get to? I'll give you a ride."

A refusal rises on my lips, but the woman shakes her head, takes my arm gently, and leads me towards her car.

"I won't hear of it! Wherever you're going, I'll take you there. You can borrow my phone and call whoever you want, alright?"

Obediently, my resolve crumbling beneath her kind smile and her gentle tone, I get into the passenger seat. I'm too tired to fight.

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