Page 27 of A Light in the Dark

TWENTY-SEVEN

What are you doing here?

The sky darkened and rumbled in the distance, and as I valued my life, I went to work finding a place I could hole up and stay mostly dry a safe distance from the river. Aware that the waters would cease being clear and potable within a few hours, I drank as much as I could, hoping it would be enough to sustain me until the sediment settled.

I’d still run risk of illness, but unless I could find a spring somewhere, which would involve leaving the general safety of the river’s shores, I was out of luck. A little good fortune would have been nice, but I recognized the truth.

My kidnappers had likely dumped me somewhere remote to help cover their tracks.

I scurried about the forest gathering suitable wood and broad leaves to make a shelter, using whippy saplings to weave my stronger sticks together. I made use of one of the outcroppings of rock a safe distance above the water as my shelter. A hole in the stone would drip water near me, but the evidence of weathering in form of a rain-worn channel offered some hope I’d stay mostly dry. Best of all, thanks to the hole, I could start a fire in the shelter to keep warm while the smoke funneled upwards.

Assuming, of course, I could gather enough deadfall before the rains started in earnest.

I succeeded at my mission, gathering enough to last a day or two. While thunder rumbled and lightning flashed overhead, I spun a stick between my hands while using dried grass and weeds as tinder. It took a while, but I created smoke, and shortly thereafter, with a few well-timed blows, the smoke became fire. Feeding the baby flames twigs and more tinder tested my patience, but when the first of my actual pieces of wood ignited, I held some hope I might survive until I found civilization.

As hoped for, the rain did drain out, the covering I’d made for the entry kept the water outside, and the fire did an excellent job of warming me.

Unfortunately, the storm lingered, leaving me with a few choices, none of which appealed. I could head down to the river, hope I could find a calmer pool of water with fish and attempt to spear my supper, forage for berries and plants, a dangerous enough proposition I opted against it at first consideration, or resume my hike in search of civilization before I starved to death.

At least gathering water would be easy. All I needed was to take one of the extra leaves, catch the rain, and drink.

Making use of a few excess sticks, I fashioned a stand so one of the better leaves could serve as a rain catch while I took my sharpened stick to the river. As expected, the water levels had risen, there wasn’t a still pool of water in sight, and if there were fish, they hid in the murky depths. After a brief exploration, where I gathered more wood and hoped it would dry out enough to add to my fire, I discovered a patch of berries, an equal mix of toxic and edible.

However much I loved strangleberry, I left those alone and stuck to the edible ones, taking care to spit out any pits and eating as much as I could tolerate before heading back to my shelter.

To hopefully extend my wood, I added one piece of damp wood at a time, hoping the dry logs would eventually ignite the wet ones. To my relief, it worked, although the hiss and pop of the wood did a good job of forcing me to retreat to the far side of my cubby. Thanks to the tight confines, I dried quickly and warmed with minimal shivering.

Until the storm broke, there was little else I could do beyond wait, revisit the berry patch until the plants had nothing left to give, and hope for the best.

Two days later, the rain, lightning, and thunder finally let up, leaving the river a swollen mess in its wake. My choice to pick the high ground had done me good, and I expected it would be several days until the water level dropped enough to make use of the rocky shore as a walkway. Until then, I’d have to pick my way through the forest, stopping along the way to eat every viable berry I could.

Even then, I recognized I lost weight. I struggled to handle even walking, and I had a severe time limit to find help before my kidnappers accomplished their goals, albeit in a long, drawn out fashion rather than the immediate demise they’d planned for me. Anger kept me going, and it smoldered deep within, burning away at me while driving me ever forwards.

Had I been paying more attention to my surroundings and less to my fury, the incessant bite of hunger cramping my stomach, and my exhaustion, I wouldn’t have tripped over the wolf. The wolf yipped, I shrieked and fell on my face, and we tangled in a mess of arms and legs. Somehow, I dodged the wolf ripping off my face or otherwise scolding me with their teeth. It took me a shamefully long time to realize a mundane wolf would have been quite happy to devour me for lunch, leaving me with a rather patient shapeshifter.

Too tired to even cry, I stared at the animal, who stared back, tilting its gray head this way and that. I should have introduced myself, but breathing consumed the little strength I had left.

All I wanted was something to eat, a bath, and a nap, and not necessarily in that order.

I wondered if the wolf would serve as a pillow. After a little rest, I could figure out how to explain some assholes had shoved toxic berries down my throat with the expectation of me drowning shortly thereafter.

Footsteps crunched on leaves and sticks behind me, and I thought about turning, but I decided I lacked the energy to bother. Waiting sucked, but it was my first and my last option. Everything else required doing something .

Something required mustering more will than I had left.

Someone crouched near me, and a warm hand, verging on being scalding, supported the top and center of my back. “Hey. You all right?”

Roger. I blinked, turned my head, and regarded the man, who wore jeans, a t-shirt, and a windbreaker for his hike in the woods. Were all the hunters tall, handsome men? Roger wasn’t in the dark category, but he did himself justice in the looks department. “What are you doing here?”

He chuckled, reached into his pocket, and pulled out a phone. “Your phone is on, and I was able to track it. You can thank Joel for that later, as he stole the device long enough to install the tracker, as he is a worry wart. He spied you tapping in your passcode and memorized it. You can get mad at him later.”

I wiggled enough to dig the broken phone out of my pocket, which still had a dead screen. “But it’s broken.”

“The device is still running, the screen is definitely dead, but that’s probably why the tracker was still working. The tracker uses satellites, so we were able to follow your progress. We got worried when you stopped during that storm, but we couldn’t get to you because of the weather.”

I regarded my poor phone with wide eyes. “It’s still turned on?”

“Yep.”

“What sort of device withstands a dunking in a river with a broken screen?”

“A model that has waterproofing under the screen and is designed to have emergency functionality in case of accidents that break the screen,” Roger informed me, and he grinned. He reached into a pocket and pulled out a plastic wrapped protein bar, which he offered to me. “Don’t choke on it. ”

I snatched it, thanked him, and went to work getting it into my stomach, breathing a relieved sigh after the first few bites eased the sting of my hunger. “I was starting to think I’d never find people or civilization.”

“You might have made it. There’s a road with a tourist trap about three miles downriver, so you would have been able to get help. And since you’re on our turf, you would have gotten a quick trip to Moonriver by helicopter. You’re still getting the quick trip to Moonriver by helicopter, but we’ll be bringing the helicopter straight to here to spare you from walking that far. Honestly, I’m impressed with how far you made it. After you got snatched, what happened?”

“First, is Joel okay?”

“Joel has a pretty nasty concussion and spent the first two days of your adventure in the hospital. Your neighbor, who recognized your kidnappers, called the Hunters, thus getting a hold of us.” Roger pointed at the wolf, who waited next to me with more patience than I had on a good day. “That’s Coraline. She’s a sea wolf, so she’s happiest doing river searches. The rest of the pack is fanning out in the woods. Why don’t you give a howl to summon everyone?”

Heaving a sigh, the kind I used when someone imposed upon me, the wolf lifted her head, breathed deeply, and let loose a calling howl.

Throughout the woods, numerous wolves answered.

“I think she was enjoying having some time away from Calden, truth be told. When I’m working, I tend to be quiet, and one thing Coraline does not get nowadays is quiet.”

The wolf bobbed her head and graced us with a canine grin.

“I’m sorry I tripped over you, Coraline. ”

“Don’t worry yourself any, Valerie. You’re exhausted, and it was pretty obvious you hadn’t seen her. What happened?”

“The assholes tried to poison me with strangleberry and threw me in the river.”

Roger grunted. “I’ve been told about your enjoyment of rather poisonous berries.”

I shrugged. “I could go for a few right now, I won’t lie.”

Coraline regarded me with a rather unimpressed expression.

“Alas, we have strangleberry’s less lethal cousin here. They look almost identical, and you’d only be able to tell the difference looking at the leaves and knowing that strangleberry is a few shades darker. But if you want some of those, I’m sure we can provide a pint for you once you’re at the hospital being checked out. Berries are good for you.”

“I only ate the berries I knew are safe,” I informed him. “But now I’m disappointed I didn’t cave in and try the local strangleberry. They really took me all the way to Moonriver?”

“According to the GPS data, they dumped you near the border, where you got washed downstream for several miles before you made it to shore and headed this way. The storm made things difficult. The lightning activity was no joke, and we couldn’t get the helicopter safely up in those conditions. In good news for us, Joel was not conscious for that stage of things.”

“He’s all right, though?”

“He’s cranky, which is to be expected. He’s back home, and his flutter is making sure he stays there. The only thing he’s allowed to do is tend to your house and roses while waiting. He still has to go to the hospital daily for checks. ”

“What happened to him?”

“Much like what happened to you but harder. You took a flashlight to the head. He took a bat.”

I gasped. “Someone hit him with a bat?”

“He’ll be fine. The idiots did it right in front of first responders. Joel went to you when you got smacked, and he picked a fight he lost. But the entire incident was recorded, the cops know who did it, they’ve already been arrested, and Joel’s pressing every single charge he can. Even the people who’d taken you have already been apprehended, as they were recognized by multiple people on the street. Apparently, they believed targeting migrants into Stonecreek would earn them sufficient good will to dodge arrest, so they came right back to town after they dumped you. You and Joel are both well liked, and they had no idea who Joel is. Anyway, pressing charges will keep him amused until we can get you safely home. But first, you will be coming to Moonriver to make sure your concussion and other injuries are healing well. We have no doubt you’re probably a walking disaster.”

As I had no doubt I had a concussion, I gestured to where I’d been hit. “It hurt horribly at first, but it’s not bad now.”

“You have active shifter genes if you’re already improving at that rate. And if you do, such injuries can trigger a first shift. Stress and anxiety can as well.” Roger pointed at Coraline. “She shifted for the first time because she was anxious about her mate. His mother died from faulty shifter genes, and she worried herself right into her first shift over it.”

Coraline sighed. Before she could do any more than that, an entire pack of wolves came barreling through the underbrush. A silvery gray one went for Coraline, nuzzled her throat, and otherwise did an excellent job of usurping her attention.

“And that would be Calden, her partner.”

A wolf similar to Calden but bigger came over, flopped across my lap, and stared at me with sad wolf eyes. As I was not saying no to petting a wolf, I went to work scratching behind his ears.

“And that would be Allasandro, Calden’s father. Yes, the leader of Moonriver. Just keep petting him, and he’ll be happy.”

It seemed Moonriver was a strange but interesting place. “Mr. Stephans came here for me ?”

“He’s wanted to try his paws at search and rescue for a while, and we involved every single shifting wolf we could to scour Moonriver for you. The stealthier hunters are in Stonecreek. The more distant wolves will howl and eventually everyone will be called back. Also, thank you for the tip off about the toxicity reports. All victims we could pull tissue samples from tested positive for a variety of natural toxins, heavily skewed towards strangleberry.”

Only horrible people would kill refugees from a destroyed world, and I would do my best to see them all pay for it. “One of my neighbors took to feeding everyone new to the city death cobbler to prevent this from happening to us.”

“And when you have a helpful neighbor poisoning people to increase their survivability, there is likely a major problem. Mr. Stephans wanted me to warn you that there was going to be an unfortunate amount of publicity regarding your kidnapping. And now that we know it was also a poisoning and attempted murder, the publicity is going to get out of control. ”

“But why?” I blurted. I kept scratching the wolf in question, as I didn’t want to find out if wolf teeth were as sharp as they looked.

“The men who kidnapped you are the aides of Stonecreek’s mayor, and there’s no way in hell he wasn’t aware of the situation. They were driving one of his SUVs.”

My mouth dropped open. “What the hell is going on in Stonecreek?”

“Are you sure you want to know the answer to that?”

I considered his question, and after a few moments, in which I acknowledged I already knew the answer, I nodded. “I do.”

“Genocide.”