Ghost Towns

Thirty

It was several hours from dawn and Rye was still traveling through the autumn woods. The single lantern she had taken from the town hall was running low on fuel, and she wouldn't be able to go on if the light went out. Some hours ago, Alex had parted from her to return back to the Onyx, leaving her to follow the pull into the woods alone.

She was tired. Very, very tired. The day before had been full of walking too, not to mention the night of excitement and tragedy and exertion. But every time Rye thought of sitting for a rest, she couldn't bring herself to do it. She was driven now, by the thought of Jax, waiting somewhere for her, unsuspecting that she was closing their gap with every single second that passed.

When the night became colder than just chill, she thought of that morning she had waken in his arms, the warmth of that place that existed only with him. When she felt her legs weaken under the strain of her pace, she thought of him sleeping somewhere, and suddenly discovered that there was only one place she wanted to settle down and rest. The bond between them had been a tentative thing before, shining but fragile, new. In the months without him, it had waited and rested, strengthening into something utterly potent and powerful. It was a thing of hope and determination.

Rye knew that she was heading in a general northward direction. At first, that had puzzled her, being the direction of the Onyx Pack lands. But she thought that perhaps the pull was a direct pull, and so Jax was somewhere beyond their territory. She had to go around the land, for a while perpendicular to the direction in which she knew Jax was. But now, she followed it precisely, afraid that any more detouring would lead her to be hopelessly lost. She had been walking for a few hours. Hopefully that was enough to bring her far away from the main patrols of the Onyx.

As she glanced up at the stars though, Rye paused for a moment, confused. The southern constellations were ahead of her, which she did not expect. And yet, she had not deviated from the direction of the pull, not for a while. Was she heading back towards Onyx territory, then? In that case, Rye would force herself to stop and wait for sunlight.

What did that mean about Jax's location, though? Surely he wasn't in Adrian's lands.

It was because she had paused to look upwards, momentarily quieting her own noises, that Rye heard the crunch of leaves. She spun, eyes wide, swinging the lantern out in front of her.

The woods were empty. In the yellow light, she saw only the shapes of tree trunks and the curve of a hill.

The noise came again, from behind. Once again, she turned, her heart rising to her throat. That had definitely been a footstep, though whoever the stranger was, they were quiet.

Once again, the leaves crunched, and Rye turned around to face the direction of the sound. For the third time, she could see nothing.

The hair on her arms stood up straight, and her breathing grew ragged. Panicked. She was reminded suddenly of that moment in the woods many months ago, escaping the fire of the town. She had been ambushed by wolves, then, in much the same situation. She had nothing but a lantern.

Fool! Rye chastised herself, I should have brought a gun. Or at the very least, a knife.

A growl rumbled through the darkness.

"Alex?" Rye called, her last and final shred of hope expelled with her breath. The only response was another growl, from a different direction than the previous.

Not one wolf. At least two.

"Who is it?" Rye demanded, yelling as loud as she could. Her voice shook, "Alpha Adrian has granted me my freedom!"

She heard the distinct rustling of changing forms.

"Change of plans," a voice said. Rye turned just as a figure emerged from the trees, dark eyes and rusty-colored hair glinting in her lantern light.