Page 69 of The Last Sanctuary

To save their lives, all they had to do was leave.

She hadn’t made it half a mile from the creek when a sound startled her. A few yards to her right, something large growled.

It was close, very close.

A shiver raced up her spine. Raven darted for the cover of the nearest tree. A small clearing lay ahead of her, a break in the trees where bunches of ferns grew in abundance.

The woods grew abruptly silent. The birds stopped singing.

A male voice broke the eerie quiet: “Stay back, now. No closer!”

Maintaining her cover behind the trunk of a massive oak tree, Raven cautiously peered around the corner. Her heart beat rapidly against her throat. Her palms were clammy.

In the center of the grove of ferns, one of the Headhunters stood with a rifle aimed at something she couldn’t quite make out. In his thirties, he wore a khaki jacket, jeans, and work boots, and a floppy brown fishing hat over his short black hair. She recognized him—the one they called Gomez.

Three yards from him, crouched in the ferns at the base of a massive boulder, was a timber wolf. The wolf gave a menacing snarl. Its back was arched, hackles raised.

For a moment, Raven didn’t recognize the wolf, so alien was the ferocious snarl. Meek Suki faced down the Headhunter with amber eyes blazing, fangs bared.

“Go on now! Get out of here!” Gomez’s hands visibly shook. He was terrified. “I said scram!”

Before Raven had the time to get her own weapon up, he could have shot the wolf. Instead, he shifted his aim and fired wide.

The loudboomtrembled the leaves. The round struck a tree somewhere off to the right.

Suki skittered to the side. Raven expected her to flee. She didn’t. Instead, she crouched down low, ears flattened, and snarled louder.

Raven hesitated, her weapon raised but her finger on the trigger guard, not the trigger. Gomez wasn’t aiming directly at Suki. He didn’t want to shoot the wolf. He was attempting to scare her away instead.

Damien was right. They weren’t all bloodthirsty killers.

The Headhunter fired again, another wide shot. Bark splintered several feet above Suki’s head. Still, she refused to run. She gave a ferocious growl and crept closer to Gomez. The wolf was the aggressor, not the Headhunter.

Darkened blood matted the fur along Suki’s jaw, mingled with a sickly yellowish saliva. It glistened from her fangs and dripped down her muzzle. It stained the white hairs on her chest.

Dread pooled in Raven’s stomach. Something was off.

Wolves rarely attacked humans. They were wary, cautious creatures. If a human invaded a wolf’s territory or went after one of the pack’s pups, a wolf would defend its pack, but Suki hadn’t been backed into a corner.

She could escape. She could turn and run. Why didn’t she?

Raven stared at the wolf in bewildered horror. She’d never seen foamy, yellowed saliva like that.

Something was wrong with Suki.

The Headhunter seemed to come to the same conclusion. “Damn it!” Gomez swore. “You’re infected.”

Shock flared through Raven. Animals could carry the virus, too. And if they carried it, they could spread it.

But how could the wolf have gotten infected? Zachariah didn’t go inside the enclosure. But her father had. Had he somehow passed the virus on to Suki in the days before he died?

With a vicious growl, Suki sprang at the Headhunter. He dodged and attempted to aim his rifle. The wolf hurtled toward him, jaws snapping. She darted swiftly to the side, only to fling herself at him from another angle. She dodged back and attacked again and again.

Gomez cursed. Abject fear contorted his features. He stumbled back, his rifle flailing wildly. Wherever he aimed, Suki moved quicker.

Then Suki was on him in a flash. It happened in a fraction of a second. The timber wolf pounced. Eighty pounds of fury and fangs struck Gomez in the chest.

He fell backward. The rifle was knocked from his hands. He threw his arms up to protect his face and throat.