Pack

Chapter Two

A soothing hand rubbed my back and shoulders. It reminded me of when I was younger and Dad used to comfort me whenever I got sick or scared. Pulling the quilt tighter, I relaxed against the warmth around me. The steady sound of a heart beating and a low hum vibrating through my bones lulled me back to sleep. My mind began to wander, dream like images filling my head.

Wait.

I was moving.

I forced my eyes open and blinked, trying to make sense of the scenery. I was in a car. It was night. Only the pale yellow glow lighting up the dashboard offered any illumination. Some guy, with messy auburn hair drove, while Jonathan sat in the passenger seat. They stared out the windshield, silently watching the darkness pass by. I lay sprawled across the backseat. My cave quilt covered me and my head rested on something firm, but warm.

They'd drugged me again. Either that or I'd passed out from the shock of Jonathan's earlier admission. Blinking again, I tried to get rid of the lingering haze that coated my mind making it hard to stay awake. A hand gently moved a stray piece of hair off my face and tucked it behind my ear.

The gesture snapped me back to reality. I bolted upright and moved to the other side of the car, causing the door handle to dig into my back. I once again found myself gripping the quilt like it held some type of protection.

"You alright, babe?" Dean asked from the other side of the seat. I must have looked crazed, because he held an outstretched hand toward me as you would a wild animal you wanted to coax into a trap.

I ignored him. My eyes flickered around the car. The driver appeared relaxed with one hand on the wheel and the other resting on the door frame. In the rearview mirror, his eyes switched back and forth between the road and me. There was a tightness around the edges of his eyes though, which made his posture seemed forced. He was on alert. High alert.

Jonathan turned around in his seat and watched me. He gave off a calm and relaxed vibe, encouraging me to do the same. The gold ring around his irises grew bigger. Brighter. Freakier. As the car turned into a moving metal cage around me, my breathing transformed into loud pants. Jonathan tried talking to me. Calm me down no doubt. But aside from seeing his lips moving, my brain didn't register a sound. My heart pounded a frantic erratic rhythm in my head, blocking out all other noise.

Dean shifted closer to me and I noticed he hadn't locked his door. I checked mine. Unlocked too. Without thinking, I opened the door and jumped.

I hit the asphalt and tried rolling, hoping to mimic an escape maneuver I'd see in a dozen different movies. I failed. Miserably. I imagine I looked more like a mess of arms, legs and blond hair flying through the air than anything even close to resembling the grace and coolness of a professional stunt person. Pain rippled through me the instant my body smacked into the ground. I had no time to stop and figure out which part of me hurt. The sounds of doors slamming and angry commands rang out around me. I scrambled to my feet and took off running toward the surrounding trees as fast as my injured body allowed.

I dodged fallen branches and rocks. Shrubs and vines whipped at my face and cut into my arms and legs, but I didn't stop. I didn't even think. I ran. The farther I went, the darker and denser the forest grew around me.

The sound of snapping branches echoed in the distance. I twisted, glancing over my shoulder, but couldn't make out anything. If they were closing in on me I had no way of knowing. But how would they even find me? They couldn't. This place was a maze of darkness. I could hide out here and when morning came, I'd find someone to help me.

And then I remembered. Scent.

Jonathan said they couldn't find me before because he didn't have my scent. Now they did, and somehow, they could track me by it.