The Calling

TWENTY-FIVE

I FOUGHT THE URGE to run to Sam and instead picked my way through the trees, heading in her direction.

“Don’t worry,” I heard the man say to Sam. “I just winged you. Now you wait right there while I go find that pretty little Indian friend of yours.”

He jogged down the trail, passing Sam where she lay. Good. Keep going. Please keep going.

I crept through the trees until I was alongside Sam. I could still see the man. He stood a few meters away, peering down the empty stretch of trail.

Sam tried to wave for me to get the truck. I shook my head and motioned that he had the keys. Then I mouthed, “Where are you hurt?” She pointed to the side of her leg. I could see it now, blood darkening her calf. A long way from the femoral artery. Good, but she wasn’t racing out of here anytime soon.

“No way your friend got to the road that fast,” he said. “So where is she…?”

He scanned the forest. I stood perfectly still, and his gaze passed over me.

I’d screwed up. Really screwed up. It’d been too complicated a plan. Too easy for something to go wrong. I’d looked at this man—clean-cut and quiet—and at worst I’d seen a garden-variety pervert who’d take us into the woods, maybe try to feel us up and hope we might like it. Not a dangerous predator. Just a middle-age guy with a creepy fantasy.

The gun changed everything. The gun meant I had, yet again, been too confident in my assessment and, this time, wagered lives on it.

The man walked back to Sam, who still crouched on the ground, hand pressed to her wounded leg.

“Where did your friend go?” he asked.

“I don’t know.”

“I asked you once. I won’t ask you”—he kicked her—“again.”

I had to grip the tree to keep from running at him. Heat raged through me, and I thought it was fury until I saw my arms pulsing.

Oh, yes. God, yes, please!

The man pulled his foot back to kick Sam again.

“I didn’t see!” she yelled. “You shot me, remember? She was in front of me and then you fired and I fell, and I’m guessing she didn’t stick around.”

“You’re a little smart-ass, aren’t you?”

“No, I’m just smart enough to know that she’s smart enough to hide after you shot me. And I’d think you’d be smart enough to know that if I had seen where she went, I’d point you in the opposite direction.”

Keep talking, Sam. Please keep talking.

I crouched and closed my eyes and focused. I imagined myself changing into a cougar as I got down on all fours and tried to move my arms and legs into what seemed like the proper position.

I felt the fever ripping through me and saw my skin bubbling, muscles underneath contorting, but no matter what I did, nothing changed. I didn’t change.

“Just go look for her,” Sam was saying.

“You’d like that, wouldn’t you, girl? Give you a chance to get away.”

“Tie me up then. You’ve got rope, don’t you? All you guys have rope.”

“All you guys?” The man kicked her again. I gripped a tree and squeezed my eyes shut and prayed for my body to change. “You think this is something out of a movie? You don’t get it, do you?”

“Oh, I get it. Your mommy was mean to you, so now you hate women. Can’t face ones your own age, so you chase teenage girls.”

The man let out a snarl of rage and kicked Sam so hard she started choking.

“Does that make you feel better?” she sputtered when she got her breath back.

What the hell are you doing? I wanted to shout. Now is not the time to cop an attitude. You’re pissing off a psycho with a gun—

The man grabbed Sam and heaved her up, and it was then that I realized he wasn’t holding the gun anymore. It lay beside him, tossed down in his fury.

I crawled toward the rifle. The man held Sam up and swung her against a tree. He pulled back his fist and hit her in the stomach.

I sprinted for the weapon. He heard me coming and dropped Sam. As he spun, I hit the ground, skidding until I snatched the rifle. Then I rolled out of the way and leaped to my feet.

When I pointed the gun at him, he laughed. “Do you even have a clue how to fire that?”

I lined up the sight on a tree fifty meters away, and I pulled the trigger. Splinters flew from the trunk. The man paled and grabbed for Sam, but she’d already staggered out of reach.

“You won’t shoot me,” he said.

“No?” I aimed at his chest. “Whatever you had in mind for us, I think it deserves a bullet or two.”

“Does it? I think you girls deserve whatever you get. You know better than to get in the car with a stranger. If you do it, then that tells me you want something.”

“The only thing we wanted was help. Now toss me your keys.”

He grumbled and spat insults, but after a moment, he reached into his pocket and pulled them out. Then he pitched them at me, hard and fast, and lunged, hoping to startle me so he could get the gun.

I saw the keys coming. He was already charging, though, and I knew I had to shoot.

Shoot him in the chest. Kill him because that would guarantee our safety. I felt the impulse. Same as I had with Nicole at the tent. Same as I had with Antone.

I fired. The bullet hit him below the shoulder. He fell, his mouth working, eyes wide with shock.

“It might not be fatal,” I said. “Depends on how long it takes you to find your cell phone.”

I emptied the rifle’s magazine. Then I laid down the gun.

“I’d suggest you tell the police it was a hunting accident. Otherwise I’ll have to tell them the truth.”

I helped Sam to the truck. As she got in, she winced, then glowered at the man lying on the ground.

“If I could kick him without falling on my ass, I would,” she said.

“Hopefully, he’s hurting worse than you are. See if you can find a license or registration in the glove box. The cops are going to get an anonymous tip about this guy.”

Sam grinned as I started the truck. “You can be seriously awesome sometimes, Maya.” She paused. “And I mean that in a totally non-girl-crush kind of way.”

“You don’t have to clarify that.”

“Yeah, usually I do.” She exhaled in pain and leaned back. “Let’s get the guys, get me fixed up, and get out of here.”

I might not have my learner’s permit yet, but I could drive. Dad had taught me a couple of years ago so I could take the Jeep back to Mom after dropping him off across the park.

We didn’t get far before we saw three figures running toward us.

Daniel and Kenjii were in the lead. I don’t know who looked more worried—or more relieved when I pulled over.

“Thank God,” Daniel panted. “We couldn’t get the damned latch open.”

Corey jogged up. “Guy sent Daniel flying when he pulled away. We tried waving and yelling, just to get him to stop, but he didn’t hear us. Luckily, we saw where he turned. Took us awhile to get here, though.”

“I screwed up,” I said. “I’m sorry.”

“You got the truck,” Corey said. “Seems like it worked to me.”

“Yes, please make her stop,” Sam called from the truck. “She’s been apologizing since we got away and it’s really getting on my nerves.”

“Sam was shot,” I said, lowering my voice. “I really screwed—”

“Make her stop!” Sam yelled. “I got shot a little. He got shot worse. We now have a truck. Mission accomplished. It was your plan, Maya, but we all agreed to it. Stopping to whine is only going to get us nabbed by the cops when that bastard calls 911.”

“I wasn’t whining,” I said.

“Close enough.”

Daniel took the driver’s seat. Corey and I got in the back with Kenjii. I directed Daniel to take the next side road, where it would be safer for us to stop so I could get out and take a better look at Sam’s injuries.

The bullet had gone clean through her calf muscle, missing the bone. The bleeding had stopped and I could remove the tourniquet. I cleaned the wound as best I could, then bound it with bandages from the glove box first aid kit. I wanted to find a town and a drugstore, clean and dress it properly, but Sam refused. We were only a couple of hours from Salmon Creek. Plenty of supplies there.

So we went home. God, it felt good to say that. After three days of hell, home was so close it was almost surreal.

Except we couldn’t actually just drive into town, because there was a very good chance the Nasts had Salmon Creek staked out. Or the St. Clouds could also be there. That meant we had to get to someone’s house without cruising down Main Street. So we took the long way in, circling around the north and coming in from the west.

I wanted to go home. To my park. To my parents. Maybe I was being selfish, but I thought they’d be our safest point of contact. The others agreed, but there was no way to drive into the park without going down Main Street. Any other route was a few kilometers’ hike and Sam couldn’t do that. I wasn’t sure any of us could.

The next best bet was Corey’s mom. She was the sheriff, and had raised Corey and his brother, Travis, alone after his dad died. His father had worked in the lab, though. Had he been the one who’d signed on to the experiment? Had Corey’s mother been left in the dark, like Daniel’s dad? We didn’t know, but I trusted her enough to go there. The others did, too, which, considering my recent track record with character judgment, was more reassuring.

Corey lived in what we jokingly called “the burbs,” which meant that his house was on the outskirts of town. The forest edged the property, so we could park elsewhere, then sneak up.

“Guess Mom’s taking the day off,” Corey said as we drew close enough to see the sheriff’s SUV in the drive.

“Considering she thinks you’re dead, I’d imagine she’s taking a lot of days off,” I said.

He paused at that, as if it was the first time he’d really thought it through. Everyone believed we were dead. His mother and his brother, Travis, would be in there, grieving…

“Let’s get inside,” he said.

We went through the backyard. The house looked fine, as did the ones around it. The fire had obviously been stopped or diverted before it reached town.

Travis was allergic to dogs, so I put Kenjii in the garage with a bucket of water filled at the tap. In the meantime, Corey tried the back door, but it was locked. He didn’t want to knock, so he retrieved the house key and opened the door.

When I followed him in, the smells of the house wrapped around me. My arms started to tremble and at first I thought it was the change starting again, but then I realized it was relief.

We were safe. Finally safe.

I followed Corey into the living room. When I looked at the sofa, I wanted to throw myself on it. Sprawl across the cushions and turn on the TV. Curl up and watch the flickering images until I fell into a deep sleep.

I’ve never actually done such a thing in my life. Sure, I watch TV. But we don’t have one at my house and I’d never felt the lack, because I don’t like being cooped up inside.

Now, after three days in the forest, that human part of me was sick of trees and streams and forest paths. It wanted a sofa and a TV and a shower. God, it really wanted a shower.

“Mom?” Corey called. He cut himself short and swore. “I probably shouldn’t do that. Scare the crap out of her.” He took a step toward the kitchen, then paused. “Or maybe I should yell. Warn her before her dead son appears from nowhere.” He glanced at us. “Arghh! I’m overanalyzing. When this is over, I need a long break from you guys.”

“And we’ll need one from you,” Sam said.

“Just relax,” I said. “Call her. Find her. It doesn’t matter. You’re about to give her the best heart attack of her life.”

He grinned. “Right.”

He took off, jogging through the house, calling for his mom. Sam started to follow, then saw we weren’t and realized this was a moment we should leave to Corey.

I collapsed onto the sofa with a sigh. Daniel plunked down beside me, then twisted to stretch out, legs going over mine.

“Oh my God,” I said, shoving his feet off my lap. “Do you know how bad those smell?”

He tried to stick them in my face. I grabbed him around the ankles and tickled the bottom of his feet. He let out a shriek.

“Well, you’re still ticklish,” I said. “And you still giggle like a girl.”

He tried to grab me, but I held his feet tight. Sam slid from the recliner and limped into the next room.

“Our immaturity is scaring her off,” I said. “Sorry, Sam. Come back and we’ll act our age.”

“No, I’m just grabbing some food. You two carry on. You’ve earned a maturity time-out.”

I let go of Daniel’s feet and he pulled them off my lap.

“We’re home,” I said. “Well, not our home but…” I leaned back into the cushions and let out a happy sigh. “Close enough for now.”

“Feels good, doesn’t it?”

“Unbelievably good.”

I opened my eyes and glanced at him.

“Thank you. For keeping me on my feet and getting us back here.”

“Um, pretty sure you did at least half of the ‘getting us back here’ part. And I needed some help staying afloat, too.” He paused. “Well, not as much as you, but that’s because I’m a guy and we’re naturally tougher.”

I threw a pillow at him.

“She’s not here,” Corey called as he thundered down from the second floor.