Page 106 of The Last Sanctuary

She believed him. “You should leave them. The Headhunters. When you’re strong enough, brave enough.”

The muscle in his cheek jumped. “Someday, I will.”

Raven wasn’t sure if he was lying to her or himself, or if perhaps someday, he would gather the courage to leave everything and everyone he knew for the faint promise of something better.

She thrust her hand into her pants pocket and withdrew one of her carved wood ravens. She thrust it into his palm and closed her hand over his. “To remember me by.”

His palm was warm and rough against her own despite the chill of the rain. His fingers tightened over hers. “As if I could ever forget you.”

“My name… my name is Raven.”

He smiled at her. “Until we meet again, Raven.”

Their gazes locked. For a moment, for an instant, they were connected by something larger than themselves. Two humans at the end of the world. Two survivors. Two friends.

She longed to hold on, to never let go.

He’d made his choice. And she’d made hers.

She pulled away. He clutched the small carving in his fist.

Shouldering her pack, Raven ran for her life.

Chapter Forty-Five

For hours, Raven ran. Shadow ran with her.

They did not stop to eat. They did not stop to drink.

They ran on and on, terror and grief chasing at their heels.

Shadow could have outpaced her easily. He could’ve been miles away by now. He stayed with her anyway. Sometimes beside her, sometimes ahead of her. Sometimes visible, sometimes not.

At times, he loped at her side, head down, ears and tail drooping in sorrow. At other times, he disappeared for an hour or more, scouting ahead.

The woods were grim, dark, and wild. Branches slapped and stung her face. The air was dense and close and smelled of wet earth and ozone. Her fear chased her, close as an expelled breath on the back of her neck.

Every muscle in her body ached. Every cut and bruise pulsed with pain. Her throat throbbed. Like knives scraping flesh, but she could move, she could run through the hurting.

That’s what mattered. The only thing that mattered.

The only thing she was certain of—if she fell, she wouldn’t get up again.

The thought flared through her mind: the map. The cabin nestled deep in the forest. The cabin she could never find without the map Vaughn had stolen.

It was lost. All of it, lost.

As she ran, her stricken mind drifted away from her body. The cabin faded in her mind with every step she took. So did Haven.

She couldn’t think of her lost home, of her dead father, or the animals she loved left behind.

She shut it all out of her mind lest the immense weight of it crush her.

She thought only of escape. The single-minded focus of survival. Staying alive for one more minute. One more hour, one more day.

Every so often, she checked her compass to ensure they were traveling in a general northerly direction, but she kept slightly northeast to remain within the relative safety of the woods of the Oconee National Forest.

Eventually, the thunder dissipated. The rain ceased. The towering black clouds shrank and diminished. The sky remained gray as ash, gray as death, as if the heavens were in mourning with them.