Chapter 7: The Final Week
Amber knew that they were running out of time. This was their final week, the fourth since the attack. On the fourth day, Theresa stopped to examine the dirt in a clearing as they passed.
“These tracks are werewolf tracks. They have rejoined the hunt. This one has a smaller left foot, the one we injured is healing now. We are running out of options.
A howl sounded in the distance.
“We have no cover,” Theresa said. “This is less than ideal.”
Theresa looked around and pointed at a gnarled spreading oak tree.
“Get your back to the tree. Keep myself between you and the werewolves when the fight starts. Don’t run. You can’t outrun a werewolf.”
Another howl sounded closer.
Amber heard claws tearing at the earth. She heard labored breathing of many things running hard.
“I can hear them.” She whispered.
Theresa looked at her and paused, “You can?”
“They’re almost here. Now.”
And the pack burst out of the brush, howling and whooping and snarling.
“You’ve led us on quite the chase.” The female with the injured leg said. “I expected the girl to give up long ago.”
“We aren’t so easily broken.”
“No. But the game is done now. Time to end this.”
The pack circled them. Amber felt something rising in her throat. She shuddered. What could she do? They were going to die. There was no way out.
"I love you." She said, staring at Theresa.
Theresa did not look back at her. "This is not the time."
"We're going to die. This is the only time. I love you." She was yelling now.
"You don't. This is a child's fancy." Theresa’s voice stayed measured.
"I do. You have to understand. Please say you love me back." Her voice faltered.
"I love you as a niece or a daughter. I practically raised you." Theresa’s voice was quiet now, almost a whisper.
"But-"
"But nothing. Now bring your mind back to the battle."
Amber felt herself crying. She brushed the tears from her eyes and looked up to see a werewolf mid leap bearing down upon her. The werewolf hit her. The impact drove the air from her lungs. And they crashed to the ground and tumbled through the undergrowth. She couldn’t breath. She thrashed and beat her fists against the werewolf’s chest. The werewolf laughed. She struggled to draw breath, and found herself on the verge of blacking out.
“I can smell you. You’re infected little girl.” The werewolf said. “Which means you’re coming with me.”
“No!” Amber managed a wheezing reply and then scrambled away through the fallen leaves.
The werewolf followed, walking rather than running. It was toying with her. Leaves fluttered about her and she continued crawling, neck deep in fallen leaves.
“Where do you think you’re going to go? You’re either going to die or you’re going to turn. Where can you hide from the change?”
She kept crawling. Branches scraped her forearms. She smelled the tang of blood, and felt the blood crawling down her arms. She knew she couldn’t escape. The werewolf was right. But she refused to give up. Instead, she continued to crawl on her hands and knees through the undergrowth.
And then the ground gave way beneath her forearms. She tipped forward and tumbled down a hillside as the edge of the hill gave way underneath her. The ground flew past beneath, tearing at her dress and shredding her skin. She hit the bottom of the hill and something gave in her left shoulder. She screamed in pain and writhed for a moment, before she gathered herself and looked around.
The werewolf ambled down the hill toward her. She staggered to her feet.
“This has been entertaining, little girl. I’m taking you back now. But I don’t need you conscious.”
Amber braced herself. The werewolf smiled and charged.
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