Soul Bound

Chapter Twenty-six

We're so close. I could throw a rock and hit it, but there's no way I can carry him there.

Wolf, please! I can't do this alone! I need you! I plead as I hook my arms beneath River's. You can't leave me, please!

I pull, dragging River backwards through the dirt, his head hanging limply on his chest. Blood from my head drips down onto his shoulder, staining his shirt with bright red. I pull harder. We're so close.

My foot slips in mud and I fall back, River dropping into my lap. It's too slow dragging him like this. They'll be on top of us before I can even get him to the tree.

WOLF! God damn it! I scream in my mind, trying to hoist River up onto my back again.

I'm alone in this. She's not there. If she isn't coming to me now she never will. She's gone.

Wolf is gone.

Tears stream down my face as I put one foot in front of the other, slowly pushing towards the tree, my hands hooking River's arms tight around my neck. More howls. My leg buckles and my knee hits the dirt. Get up. Get up.

Sweat beads down my brow, mixing with my tears. My face stings from the salt as I grit my teeth, picking my knee up from the ground. My breathing is out of control. I think I'm hyperventilating, I don't know. I'm getting light-headed. I can't fall apart like this. Once I get River to the tree I have to lead a pack of werewolves away from it. I need to find a second wind.

The hemlock is less than ten feet away. We can make it. I take a deep breath and imagine that River is just a feather on my back. That Wolf's energy is surging through my legs. That this is my forest and the trees are reaching out, guiding me, helping me, rejuvenating me. I close my eyes and focus only on moving forward.

When I open them again, we're there. The opening in the tree leads to a deep, hollowed out space within.

Wolf, we made it, I say to the emptiness inside of me.

It's difficult to get River through the jagged opening, barely managing to squeeze through myself. I kick off an edge of the crack, apologizing to the tree as I do so, so River's shoulders will slide through.

He's in. Hope surges through me. He's safe. If I can get the werewolves on my trail he'll be much safer. I lay him at the back of the trunk and place my head on his chest, listening for his breath and heart beat. They're there. And I just want to lie here listening to it forever, but the howls have doubled. At least six of them now.

I stand and wipe my face of tears and sweat. "I'll be back. I promise," I say, before rushing out of the tree. I look up into its canopy, searching for the soul inside. "Please protect him."

Then I take off.

It's not a second wind, but it's enough. Hope is always enough. Even if my legs aren't as fast as usual, if my body hurts more than it ever has in my life, if Wolf's silence is tearing me apart inside, I have hope. Hope that we can make it out of this.

This time, when the werewolves howl, I reply. I open my lungs with a deep breath, throw my head back, and howl like I'm trying to reach the rising full moon, like how I taught the kids. That simple life feels years away now. More howls echo my own and I know they're on my trail.

I speed back up the hill we fell down, my steps calculated and confident this time, and turn a hard left at the top, sticking to the edge of the slope. The wolves will be at their peak strength tonight with a full moon shining down on them. The usual energy I get from it is gone. That extra advantage had everything to do with Wolf.