When she returned to the waking world pain greeted her like an old friend. Nearby, the corpse of her uncle stared at her, expression desperate. Heâd been trying to reach her when heâd been taken down; the arrow that killed him still protruding from his neck.
Atop her lay the still warm form of a Judge, the bliss in itâs fur disorienting her as she struggled to push the heavy corpse away. Her uncleâs hunting knife was in her hand and she blearily remembered the Judge lunging at her; she must have hit her head and blacked out. Deep gouges from the Judgeâs fangs ran along her neck, blood still oozing from the wounds. Even as it died the beast had tried to rip her throat out. Sheâd gotten lucky; the knife had hit it in the heart.
If this is luck, I donât want it.
The blinding pain of a raging headache made every movement more painful, but anger gave her strength as she wriggled free of the Judge. Voices sounded from nearby; the remaining cultists were ransacking her uncleâs cabin.
They were searching for something. It wasnât hard to figure out what they were looking for; it was a well known fact that Eli Palmer was a thorn in Jacob Seedâs side. It was also a well known fact that Eli and her uncle were best friends. Jacobâs men were looking for clues to Eliâs location.
They wouldnât find anything of use and the only man that could have helped them was now dead. Blue eyes tracked back to her uncle, a cold numbness settling in her chest. A shaking and bloody hand reached out, closing familiar eyes for a final time. Her hand lingered on her uncleâs face, her heart unwilling to abandon him, even in death, but she had to move. Jacobâs men didnât know she was alive, but theyâd figure it out before long.
Knife still in hand, she staggered to her feet and moved almost drunkenly to the truck parked nearby. Sheâd just hauled herself into the driver seat when a cultist exited the cabin. A radio, forgotten in the cab, crackled to life as the man shouted something to whoever was on the other end. She didnât pay attention to what was said, nor did she wait around to see what the cultist did next. Violently, Melody threw the truck into reverse and spun the vehicle around, bullets shattering glass and tearing into metal.
Jamming the truck into drive, she tore down the long dirt road that lead to her uncleâs cabin. The hail of bullets continued, but stopped hitting the truck as she disappeared into the trees. She flew toward the main road, bouncing as she took the twists and turns of the dirt road too fast. She was seconds away from freedom, but it was all for nothing.
Her mad race to freedom ended in squealing tires as she jerked the truckâs wheel to the side; there was a truck and three four wheelers blocking her escape. Her vision swam as the truck rocked to a stop, her headache and the lingering bliss leaving her stunned for a moment. When her vision cleared she saw Jacob Seed standing in the headlights of her truck. Rifles and bows were leveled her way, Judges waiting to charge from the sides of their masters. She was finished.
No one moved for a long moment as Melodyâs gaze swept over the forces assembled against her. She considered gunning the truck and taking Jacob down with her, but she didnât want to die and for a moment she hated herself for that desire. Angry tears blurred her vision as she exited the truck, small fingers tightening on her uncleâs hunting knife, the blade red with wolfâs blood. She said nothing as she held Jacobâs gaze, expression grim as she wore her pain openly. Everything hurt; her body and soul.
