Grace of a Wolf by Lenaleia

Chapter 10: Grace: Great Escape

The beam of my flashlight flickers, casting eerie shadows across the forest floor. My heart skips a beat. Not now. Please, not now. I tap the plastic casing, and the light steadies.

Thank God.

A gust of wind whips through the trees, sending a shiver down my spine. The temperature's dropping fast. I fumble with my backpack, fishing out the extra sweater I'd snagged from the omega lodge. It smells of mothballs and desperation, but it's warm. I pull it over my head, grateful for the added layer.

My stomach rumbles painfully with hunger. I've sipped at water and snacked on jerky through the day, but my supplies are finite. I can't eat them too quickly.

I tear off a small piece of jerky with my teeth, chewing slowly. Like it's gum.

One foot in front of the other. That's all I can focus on now. My legs ache, muscles screaming for rest. My blisters tore open miles ago. But I can't stop. Not yet. I need to reach humans.

The river's behind me, its rushing waters a distant memory. I pray it's enough to throw them off my scent. Not forever—I'm not stupid enough to hope for that. I just need time.

Margo's probably realized I'm gone by now. The thought sends a fresh wave of panic through me. Will they come looking? Part of me hopes they will. That someone, anyone, cares enough to wonder where I've gone.

But that's the old Grace talking. The one who still believed she belonged. I know better now.

"Let them forget about me," I mutter, though the words are bitter on my tongue. "It's what they've always wanted, anyway."

Okay, yeah. I'm feeling a little sorry for myself, but it isn't all hopeless.

The irony isn't lost on me. A week ago, the idea of being forgotten would have shattered me. Now? It might be my only chance at freedom.

for years. It would be a lie to say I have confidence in surviving with humans. I'm not even sure how

forest grows denser, the trees closing in around me. My tiny flashlight barely penetrates the gloom. Shadows dance at the edge of my vision,

drawing blood. I wince, touching the spot gingerly. It stings, a sharp reminder of how ill-equipped I am for this journey. What was I thinking? I'm no survivalist.

in training. Though, no one ever expected

hand, clattering against a rock. The light flickers once, twice, then dies. Darkness engulfs

fingers brush against the cold plastic, and I shake it frantically. The light flickers back on, sending a rush of

can't see in the

I need this light.

clatters to my left and I

movement in the inky darkness

Nothing.

my racing heart to calm. But the seed of doubt has been planted, and it

again, my pace a touch quicker

whip my head around, the beam of light dancing wildly

the prickling sensation at the base

paranoid, Grace. No one's following you. They

be comforting, but it only

the sound carrying clearly through the still night air. I jump, a small yelp escaping my lips before I can stop it. The noise seems to echo, bouncing off the trees and coming back to mock

Pathetic.

teeth, anger flaring hot in my chest. "Get it together," I mutter to myself. "You're not some helpless damsel.

veins. I stop dead in my tracks, ears straining to

No, it can't be. They're not looking