Image: Night Park Bench by buskeros71
Soundtrack: Silver [acoustic version] by Daniel Massey
***
"Shh. It's okay. I've got you." David gently soothes Sean as he takes a closer look at the wound. The Lycan cries out in agony and his skin begins to ripple. "Don't Shift. Stay with me. You're okay."
I glance around for any witnesses. We're in Fish Creek Park, a gigantic swath of tall brown grass and spindly trees, their leaves having already dropped upon the chilled ground below.
It's in this bed of dried leaves that we lay Sean, face down so that there isn't any pressure on the wound. His head lies on its side and his eyes are crinkled into a tight manifestation of pain. I wince, averting my eyes from the little Lycan. The ground is darkening underneath him and I don't want to think about what that means.
Thirteen kneels beside the boy, wrapping his companion's torso in a bandage that David had pulled from his backpack. The fabric immediately stains red – a crimson so strong and harsh that my heart just about stops. I squeeze my eyes shut to distract myself.
Please no. Please let him live. Let him be alright.
Frowning, David continues to fish around in the pack, eventually withdrawing a small canister that contains pills of some sort. "Take this," he commands, holding out a tiny white pill for the boy. Sean shakes his head. I reach down and hold his hand. Thirteen does the same, bringing his lips close to the child's ear.
"Sean, remember the times when you were hurting and the nice man gave you something small and white? Remember those times?"
Sean nods his head, wincing with the effort.
"Shh. Stay still," I tell him softly.
Thirteen takes the pill from David and holds it in his palm for Sean. "It'll make you better."
As if on cue, Sean opens wide. Thirteen gingerly places the object on the little Lycan's tongue. Sean swallows it with a loud gulp. He squeezes my hand even tighter and continues to cry out in agony.
I return the squeeze, hoping the pressure will help Sean forget about the pain. If we don't keep him quiet, he'll bring attention to our hiding place in the thick bushes of the park. If that happens, we're all dead.
"Sean. Look at this." Thirteen makes a funny face. His expression is fearful, though, and Sean senses this. The child's eyes grow wide and his breathing halts.
"I'm gonna die, Thirteen," he chokes out.
"No, you're not," the older Lycan tells him firmly. "Not while I'm here. I'm not letting you."
A smile appears on the boy's lips, spreading like wildfire across his features.
David reaches down and rubs Sean's shoulders gently. "Look at the sky. Wow!"
Sean listens to my uncle, his eyes widening even more, this time with wonder instead of fear. The sun is beginning to set, sending brilliant hues across the sky as if it's a giant canvas of watercolour in the studio of some famous artist.
Sean moans, and I hope that the pressure of David's hands on his shoulders is sufficiently easing his agony. How long will the painkiller take?
Thirteen covers the wound with another bandage, but the flimsy fabric is not enough to keep the injury sated. I quickly shrug off my sweatshirt and press it hard against Sean's side. He cries out, but I don't relinquish my hold. The fabric grows wet under my palms and tears flood my eyes, blurring my vision.
It'll be fine. He's alive. He'll live. We just need to keep the pressure on till the blood finishes clotting, and get him to a doctor.
"Where did we leave the others?" I ask my uncle.
David grunts, glancing around.
"Got a phone?" I attempt again. I hadn't brought my own; it's back at the clan's campsite, probably dead. I curse myself for my stupidity.
"Yeah," he gasps, extracting the device from his backpack and peering at the screen. "It's Margo." I glance over his shoulder to read the text.
'You're late! Are you all safe?' she asks. Two more texts ensue. 'David! Answer me!' and 'Did you get out ok? Answer me now!!!!'
David meets my eyes before replying. 'Yes. Eight's injured badly. Unable to reach rendezvous.'
Her answer is almost instantaneous. 'Sejka will find you.'
My blood curdles at her crisp words. No emoji happy faces or hearts today.
David gulps. 'Tell her to hurry!'
'She's already on her way,' is Margo's reply.
"Why Sejka?" I blurt out. "Is she a doctor?"
"Of a sort. She'd better get here soon, though," David whispers, glancing at Sean with a tenderness that makes my heart sink.
Time passes slowly. It feels like an hour has gone by and my muscles shake violently with the frozen posture. I can't feel my legs anymore, but I continue to hold pressure on the wound.
"David. Hospital?" I ask finally, glancing down at my uncle's leg. He'd hastily addressed his own injury, but darkness has already seeped through the thin bandage. I'd been so caught up in the kid's injury that I'd almost forgotten my uncle had been shot before we'd left the building.
"We...can't." David chokes on his words. He pulls another bandage from the backpack and gingerly replaces his soaked one.
"They wouldn't hurt—"
"The Covenant will be expecting that. If we take him there, he'll be..."
We turn back towards Sean, hoping he doesn't know how bad the injury really is. The boy quivers but doesn't speak. His eyes are closed and his tiny hand clenches and unclenches. His pain seems to have lessened but the ground is wet with blood. The knees of my jeans sit in the midst of the dark pool beneath us but I don't move.
Suddenly the little Lycan speaks for the first time in what seemed like hours. "Th-thank...you," he stammers. Fresh tears form in my eyes as the boy's breaths grow even more ragged. He struggles for air.
"You're okay, Sean," Thirteen tells him firmly. "You're okay."
"Don't talk, Sean. Keep looking at the sky," David says, and the boy does as he's told; his eyes follow the last remnants of the sun as it sets over the western horizon, caressing the tops of the buildings. Its last glow is barely visible over the park's tree line.
"Thirteen, we're...free," the boy says, his voice dwindling to a whisper. His breaths are shallow and rapid, and his face had lost its natural colour long ago. His eyes hold the gaze of each of ours in turn, and his body lies still.
"Yes we are, Sean," Thirteen says softly, attempting a smile as he looks into the Lycan's eyes. He squeezes the small boy's hand in his.
Sean scrunches his face tight, grinning back as broadly as he can manage in his weakened state. I feel his torso quiver under my sweater, and then he's still once again. I continue to hold my pose even though my muscles burn and my hands are slipping from the wet fabric. Tears flood down my cheeks and spill upon the ground below. The sinister scent of drying blood continues to smother my senses.
Thirteen checks the boy's pulse at his neck and at his wrist. David puts his head down to the little Lycan's mouth to check for any signs of life. The haunting lament of a raven echoes across the forest. Though my vision is blurred with fresh tears, I can just make out the form of the obsidian avian as it alights on a nearby branch.
"You're too late, Sejka." David raises his face to the sky, gently shaking his head as if disappointed in some greater power. Then he collapses at the boy's side. Thirteen and I do the same.
***
"Wake up!"
I gingerly lift myself from the ground, pain rushing through my joints and my mind as I try to bring myself back to reality. A siren squeals nearby, its wail infiltrating the veins of my brain like rivulets of acid.
No. This isn't reality. This is only a nightmare. I'm just waking up and everything's back to normal. All of this was a dream.
But the scene beneath me begs to differ. I burst into sobs as I lay eyes upon the face of the little Lycan we'd only just rescued from the Covenant's base.
"Hey! Come on."
The Lycan called Thirteen shakes my shoulder, waving my backpack in front of my face. I grasp it with shaking hands.
"Sean, come on," I whisper, knowing that it's futile. "Please." My voice catches in my throat and fresh sobs escape from between my lips.
David pulls me up and pushes me forward, towards the south. "Skye, listen. Those sirens you hear aren't the police; not all of them are. We have to move," he tells me ferociously.
"Why aren't they trying to be quiet?" I choke out.
David sighs. "Because they expect us to run from the noise. The other teams will be waiting to corner us."
I sling my backpack over my shoulder, trying to block out the sounds of the wailing sirens. Out of the corner of my eye, I see Thirteen pulling off his tattered shirt.
"No!" David hisses. "There are no wolves in this park. No Shifting."
"We have to outrun them somehow," Thirteen hisses back, shaking back the unkempt curls from his narrowed eyes.
"Keep running. Don't stop till we reach the road. Don't look back."
My uncle starts off into the woods and we follow. I don't look back at Sean. It's life or death now, and I understand that. They shot a child, and he now lies motionless in the leaves. We're just leaving him there. I feel fluid rising from my stomach and I swallow it down.
Who will find him? What will they think? No. Think about good things. Think about... There's nothing good about this.
We pass a startled pet owner as we cross one of the paths, and he jumps back, his terrier barking its little head off. The flashlight in the man's hand shakes as he shines it directly into our eyes. It must be around seven or eight in the evening, judging by the dwindling light.
When we reach the park's outer fence, David threads his fingers together into a makeshift step for me and I don't hesitate. I accept his boost and reach as far up as I can, clinging to the chain-link. I try to swing my legs over the sharp barbed-wire at the top as best I can, but the wire still cuts into my jeans, adding more fresh blood to the ripped denim. I wince at the pain but continue nonetheless.
Thirteen clambers up behind me and David follows, groaning as the wire bites into his limbs. He crouches as his feet hit the ground, clutching at his wounded leg. I grab my uncle's arm to help him up. He nods his gratitude, grimacing.
We rest on the other side for a few moments, and David motions for us to change our clothing. I shove the bloody jeans into my pack, choking back a sob. The incessant flow of tears hasn't ceased since that moment. I'm certain it never will.
Snowflakes drift and scatter as we trudge onward. I raise my face to the sky and let the cold in. I want to forget. But I can't.
David suddenly stops in his tracks. "Keep heading south."
Thirteen clears his throat. "Where?"
"To the rest of your kind."
Seeing the young man's confused look, David adds, "Skye will show you. I've got...something to take care of."
"You need help," I inform my uncle, nearly choking on my words as I take in his bloody bandage.
"No. It isn't safe. Head for Lauren and the clan. You'll be able to locate the trail we left this morning. Follow it. Sejka will find you. The others will be looking out for you."
"But how—"
"They'll find you," he reassures me.
After giving me a small embrace and Thirteen a clap on the shoulder, David heads back into the depths of the city. When he's just a blip in the night, I start off towards the south. Thirteen doesn't follow. I glance back at the Lycan and note that he's just standing there, allowing the snow to gather on his unkempt hair as if he's but a statue. I attempt to decipher his guarded expression.
"Come on."
His frown deepens. "I'm not coming. Just go."
"You can't—"
"You shouldn't be left alone with me. I said go." Thirteen turns towards the dark lines of the highway.
"What do you mean?"
"You know full well what I mean," he snarls, and my heart grows cold as his fangs begin to elongate.
It was my fault. I could have helped the two of them to safety, buying us all some time. But I had to go back inside for David...
Stop thinking about it. What's done is done. And I can't blame myself entirely; it wasn't me who pulled that trigger.
Thirteen shrugs off his anger and starts along the road's shoulder, his bare feet light on the chilled pavement. The snow begins to blanket the road, dusting it with a lighter shade of darkness. The waning moon shines effervescently in the sky, but it isn't enough to see by; not with our human eyes, anyway.
If the snow continues to fall like this, we won't be able to find the scent trail that my clan members and I had left on our journey here. I know we'd traversed this very highway earlier this morning, but I can't remember exactly where we'd crossed from the woods to civilization. Of course, it's a lot harder to recognize landmarks in the pitch-black than it is in broad daylight.
I'm going to end up lost, and so will he. We'll die out here, or we'll get caught.
I swallow my guilt and remorse. "Hey. Thirteen. We have to get to the others."
The Lycan ignores me. I match his pace and grab his arm with both my hands. He can't leave me. I can't be alone; not now.
"What's your name?" I ask softly. He doesn't answer. I repeat the question, this time more firmly.
"It doesn't matter. Get off me," he hisses, his sea-blue eyes locked on the road.
A car approaches on the other side of the highway, its headlights excruciatingly bright against our sore eyes. Thirteen squints, shielding his eyes against the machine's high-beams. I debate darting into the field beside us but decide that it's better to keep walking on the shoulder. The driver's already seen us anyway. I hold my breath, half expecting the car to come to a stop and begin firing at us, but it keeps on speeding past, clearly needing to get somewhere fast. Unlike Thirteen.
"Where are you going?"
There's a short pause. "Anywhere but here."
"Your family—"
"I don't have a family," he spits at me, venom in his voice. "Piss off."
A pit of guilt forms in my stomach. I wrack my brain for ideas, for a way to convince him to come with me. He has to. I don't think I'll be able to live with myself if he goes out there alone, sacrificing himself to the night.
"We have warm tents and campfires," I call to him. He slows his pace.
"Go enjoy them, then."
It occurs to me that the closest Thirteen has ever had to a family lies motionless in the middle of Fish Creek Park. And it's because of me. I could see the bond he'd formed with the little boy by the way he talked to him, calming him and caring for him. Sean had loved and trusted Thirteen because they'd spent months – maybe years – in the dark prison they'd been calling home. Only each other's distant voices to keep them company.
I shouldn't be alone with you, he'd said. Does that mean he's dangerous – feral maybe? Or does it mean that he holds me accountable for Sean's death?
"Well, I'll be heading south. If you change your mind...you know where to find us."
Thirteen only grunts in response. I watch him go for a while, and then ready myself for the journey. I've got to find the scent before the snowfall covers it up.
Why didn't David help me to at least find the trail? I can't track or hunt yet. I just hope that Lauren and the others will be looking out for my return. I'm counting on it.
***
A/N: The song at the top was written and performed by Daniel Massey, a friend of mine. He was one of the first people to read and support me in writing this series, and I've also worked on some songs with him. Click the video and check out his youtube channel; there's a lot more talent where that came from!