Chapter Twenty-Seven

The thing I bump into doesn’t budge. My head rises, my eyes search for a face—something I know. But I can’t see him. The moon is still cloaked by clouds.

Please don’t kill me now, I pray.

His hands latch onto my shoulders. I wriggle and squirm in his grasp. He falls backward to the ground. For a moment I wonder how it happens, but push all thoughts aside, except one.

I have to get out of here.

Jumping over him, I think I make it, but he grabs my leg and pulls. I fall to the ground with a thud.

“You can’t get away that easily,” he says.

I kick and thrash with everything in me. One of the kicks lands square on his face. I don’t know what exactly happens, but it’s like I electrocute him or something. His face ignites with sparks and he shrinks back in pain, letting go of my ankle.

I’m free.

The pattern of the maze continues. Right, left, left. Right again.

Then I see it—an opening, the exit. The pounding of feet echoes in my ears. He’s close, and fast.

My legs ache, my lungs burn, and I’m wheezing.

I make it through. There’s a clearing on the other side, full of people.

“Candra, we were so worried about you! You were there with us one minute, and the next you weren’t—” Jana stops in mid-sentence.

I bend over, trying to catch my breath. My body throbs in pain.

“Are you okay?” Blake asks.

Jana rubs my back with her hand. “We’re so sorry. We didn’t mean to leave you like that.”

“We need to get out of here,” I say, my voice hoarse. 

When I glance up, the crowd outside the exit stares at me. I pant, catching my breath.

“You’re bleeding,” Blake says. His thumb brushes the cut on my cheek.

“That’s the least of my worries right now,” I say, finally able to stand straight.

“Okay, let’s go,” Jana says hesitantly. She glances at Blake, but neither of them questions me.

Every few steps, I turn to look at the exit. Will he come out and show himself? Will someone else be forced to face him in the maze?

Nobody has a clue what happened to me. Nobody will believe me, either.

Buttered popcorn and a hint of something tart hit my nostrils. I see parents with children in line at concessions. The kids will think pretzels, popcorn and cotton candy are the best thing about tonight. A few fellow classmates wait for their chance to enter and be scared by nothing more than crazy actors. Couples walk with arms looped around each other, sipping hot chocolate.

He’s not after them. He’s after you.

Everything reels in slow motion. My mind tells me I need to warn everyone. My heart tells me I have to warn family first.

Jana’s car takes forever to get to. I check the backseat, just to be on the safe side. There’s nobody, of course. Jana and Blake gape at me, but still don’t say anything. They’ll think I’m a nut if I tell them.

I don’t realize how badly I’m shaking until I sit down. Thoughts swirl and buzz loudly in my head. He’ll come after me and my family. He might even go for Jana and Blake. If I don’t do something, then it’ll be my fault. I can’t live through this, knowing innocent people died.

Blake creeps through the endless sea of people. He eventually pulls onto the main road. That’s when I see him, the stranger. He stands at least one hundred yards away, at the edge of the forest, sucking me into another guilt trip. If I don’t do something now, this will never end. I’m the one who caused this trouble, and I’m the one to finish it.

In that heartbeat, I realize something—it’s never been about them. It’s about me.

I yell, “Stop the car!”

Blake slams the brake pedal with his foot and nearly causes my head to crash with the back of Jana’s seat.

“What is it? What’s wrong?” he asks, turning around to look at me.

“I have something I have to do. If I’m not back in five minutes, call the police,” I say, pushing open my door and jumping out. I take off in a run, barely making it over a wooden fence. Past the fence and a scanty amount of trees, I’m greeted by an open field.

I stop halfway to catch my breath. 

The figure doesn’t move. He patiently waits. Rigidly, he turns on his heels and disappears when he sees me head in his direction again.

I’ve only thought my nerves were frayed before, during the fight with Cameron, and with his mom. But this doesn’t compare. Every tip of my body has unraveled, feeling like I’ll be swept away in the next breeze. My stomach clenches. I think I might vomit, but resist the temptation. 

I near the tree line and know he’s watching.

I don’t want to die, but there are no other options.

“For my family,” I whisper, squeezing my eyes shut and stepping into the forest.

His laugh stops me. “For your family,” he spits. “How touching. But where is that family of yours now, when you need them the most?”

“Please leave them out of this.” I lower my eyes, staring at a tree. Maybe if I look pitiful, he’ll change his mind. Not likely, though.

He tsks me. “See, I can’t do that. When I kill you and your family, the ground I walk on will be worshipped. You’re the only thing stopping me.”

“It doesn’t have to be this way,” I plead. “We can talk this out. Maybe there’s something of mine that you want.”

“I have everything I want. I need you to be dead. You must know that it’s your power. We can’t allow you to live to see your eighteenth birthday. Surely you know that by now.”

Courage builds in my stomach. My fists tighten at my sides. “Even if you kill me, you won’t get away with it.”

“When I’m done with you, I’ll finish off your friends waiting in the car, and then your family.” His body lowers into a pouncing stance. His fingernails chip off and long claws grow in their place. He snarls. Razor-sharp fangs sprout from his gums and lengthen past his gum line. But it’s his eyes that take the breath out of my body; they glow yellow, even under the shaded canopy of trees and hazy moonlight.

The same golden glow that emanates from the tree line outside Randy and Beth’s house. The same eyes that crawl into my nightmares, leaving traces behind long after I wake.

He’s a werewolf. I can’t outrun him. So, I have no choice but to fight.

He lunges at me and I somehow leap out of the way. He hits the base of a tree and yelps, which only sends him into a rage.

He darts for me, then swats. This time, I’m not so lucky. My right cheek bashes into the tree a few feet away, knocking the breath out of me. I crumple to the ground. A bitter copper flavor trickles over my tongue.

My eyes spin around, trying to focus. I’m positive I have a concussion. Everything’s so blurry. He says something to me, but his voice echoes, making it unclear as to what he’s talking about.

Piercing pain radiates from my back. I open my mouth to scream, but air has left my lungs. Tears pour out of my eyes and cascade down my cheeks. The pain sears so badly I can’t open my mouth to scream. Each intake of breath burns. 

When will I take my last gulp of air? Minutes from now? Seconds?

He paces back and forth in front of me. With my eyesight failing, he becomes two then one. I know I’m about to die. There isn’t a white light ahead, only sheer frozen air cloaking my body, and the open gashes newly-created on my back.

He soars toward me. I close my eyes tightly. I’m going to be eaten alive. 

But it doesn’t come.

Peeking through one eye, I see a werewolf on top of the one who tried to murder me. I’m too aghast to notice the one sitting beside me. It growls at the two fighting, but turns to look at me. Something in its eyes tells me everything’s going to be okay.

One of the werewolves lets out a long cry. The werewolf next to me whips its head around. My Protector stands over the other, lifting its head and releasing a triumphant howl.

The injured werewolf staggers off into the woods somewhere. My Protector gives me and the werewolf beside me a look—a knowing look. The one beside me whines and My Protector grunts. They’re talking to each other, I think. They glance at me, and then run off into the forest.

“Wait!” I do my best to call, but my voice is raspy and weak. “Don’t leave me here,” I whisper. The pain blistering from my back keeps me in place. I can’t move, even if my life depends on it.

I fade in and out of conscious. For how long—I’m not sure. I hear a voice in the distance. Someone calls my name over and over again.

“Candra, are you okay?!” It’s Jana. “What’s this?” she asks, surveying my back. “Oh, God. We have to get you to a hospital.” She pulls out her cell phone and dials 911.

I’m barely awake. Between the cold and the hurt, my body goes numb. I drift off into an uncomfortable sleep. I don’t remember the sirens, or the flashing lights. I barely remember being carted through a white hallway.

“We’re here if you need us,” Jana says somewhere in the distance. I try opening my eyes, but everything’s so out of focus.

“Candra? I’m Dr. Botolf. Can you hear me?” a man asks.

I crack my eyes open, but can’t open my mouth. It’s so dry. I will do anything for a drink right now. I’m lying in a bed with sheets that make me itch, IVs in my veins, and I’m wearing a hospital gown.

Dr. Botolf pats my shoulder. “It’s okay. You’re going to be fine. Whatever animal attacked you, we’ll be on the lookout for it.”

He’s only after me, not everyone else.

Metal clinks, and the curtain whooshes open. I can barely make out Beth’s outline.

“Oh, Candra, sweetie, you’ll be all right. They’re going to keep you overnight and release you tomorrow. But we’re going to stay here with you,” Beth says. She rubs my arm.

I weakly nod.

My vision becomes fuzzy again. Sleep is the only thing I can do.

The next thing I know, a nurse wakes me for breakfast. She elevates me to a sitting position.

“Here you go, hon,” she says, placing the tray in my lap. She disappears through the curtain.

Beth stirs in the chair next to my bed. “Oh, you’re awake! How do you feel? Better?” she asks.

“Yeah, a little bit. I’m kind of sore,” I say, slowly pulling myself forward to eat.

“I don’t doubt that.” She raises her eyebrows. “Candra, I know it might be too soon, but did you get a look at who it was?”

I shake my head. “Never could see his face. It’s almost as if he’s just a black mist.” I focus on picking at a few scrambled eggs with my fork. “What is he?” I ask, looking at Beth.

She nibbles on her bottom lip. “I don’t know. I haven’t heard of anything like this in all my one hundred and fifty-two years.”

My eyes bulge. “I didn’t realize you were so…old.”

“It’s not something I run around telling everybody.” She manages a smile. Standing, she walks to the window, folding her arms across her chest. “Did he say what he wanted?”

I hesitate on replying. “Yes.”

“Well, what is it?”

I take a bite of bacon and wait until I swallow to answer. “He wants me dead, along with you and Randy, possibly Jana and Blake.”

Beth cusses under her breath. “Figures. Most of those that oppose us are Conway followers. It could be any one of them.”

Jana and Blake slide through the curtain.

“You’re awake?” Jana asks, astonished. “Oh, I’m so glad! I thought you weren’t going to make it.” She runs to the bed, leans over the side rails and gives me a hug.

I briefly smile. “Guys, whatever he is, he’s coming after us. I don’t know how to stop him. Apparently the two werewolves do.”

“Werewolves?” Beth asks. Her eyebrows crease and her mouth parts, like she’s about to say something. She hesitates before speaking again. “Sweetie, you did hit your head pretty hard. Maybe you were just seeing things.”

“No, I know what I saw. I’m telling you I wouldn’t be alive if it weren’t for the two werewolves that saved me,” I argue. I push my tray aside, suddenly losing my appetite.

Jana groans and steps forward. “Candra, there’s something we need to tell you.” She motions toward Blake.

No freakin’ way.