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“Very dangerous territory,” he teased, his grumpiness gone.

“You told me to think about college, and I have. It’s a no.”

He raised his eyebrows but remained quiet.

"My grandmother left me some money. It’s not a whole bunch, but it’s enough to start on a plan I can’t get out of my mind.” She looked at him, hoping he would see how serious she was and not make a joke about what she wanted to do.

“If you don’t get to the point, I’ll die of old age.” His voice held laughter.

“You’re not using your trailer.” She stopped then continued before he said the obvious. “I want to help women like my mother and girls like me. What if we gave them a place to come and heal? A place to learn to defend themselves and also learn what they’re capable of.”

He stared at her for a long time. She couldn’t tell what he was thinking. He finally shook his head, and grinned so wide, his jaw might lock in place.

“My property is worth some money,” he said. “I don’t need it. There are also places online, where you can raise money for good causes. I don’t know anything about that crap, but you’re smart and you can figure it out.”

Willow launched herself from the chair and wrapped her arms around him, pushing him backagainst the couch.

“I don’t need a ladder and screwdriver to kill me with you around.” He was back to grumbling.

“I love you,” she said.

“You sure do know how to get a man right in the heart,” he said back.

***

Three months later

Dale hammered the last of the nails into the ten-foot wooden posts that held the wrought-iron sign above the entrance to the driveway.

Dale had the iron twisted into a fancy script by one of the locals as a gift for Willow. She stepped back as Dale came off the ladder and joined her. They looked up at the entrance to Willow’s property.

JOAN’S LEGACY

“I love it,” Willow said.

“Joan would have loved it too.”

Epilogue

Unstoppable

Fifty miles away

The land was quiet as the sun dipped below the horizon, casting long shadows across the barren terrain. A lone coyote trotted through the scrub, its lean body moving with purpose. Its sharp ears twitched at the slightest rustle, its nose catching the faintest trace of scent on the dry wind.

In the distance, a rabbit darted from the shelter of a bush, its movements jerky and frantic. The coyote froze, its golden eyes narrowing as it watched. Something about the prey was off. It moved erratically, its limbs stiff, its head twitching unnaturally. But hunger gnawed at the coyote’s belly, and instinct overpowered caution.

The rabbit paused, its chest heaving as it turned its head to look back. Foam flecked its lips, and its wide eyes glistened with a feverish sheen. The coyote crept closer—its paws silent against the cracked earth. With a sudden burst of speed, the rabbit bolted, skittering through the scrub.

The chase was swift and brutal. The coyote surged forward, closing the distance with every stride. The rabbit’s speed faltered as its limbs betrayed it, trembling under the weight of its disease. With a final leap, the coyote pounced, its jaws closing around the small body. A brief struggle, a squeal of pain. And silence.

The coyote stood over its prey, panting. It began to tear into the flesh, unaware of the foam-streaked mouth or the tainted blood that stained its muzzle. The land seemed to hold its breath, the shadows deepening as the first stars pierced the twilight sky.

I am Rabies.

I am unstoppable.