The phone bounced off its head. The wolf growled and stalked closer.
“Don’t come any closer!” My hand was in my bag—thank God it was pinned with me—and the wolf licked its lips and growled at me. Its body pressed low to the ground as it closed the distance between us.
I remembered all those missing hikers. Sheriff Brantley. All dead. Yes, oh, yes, there was something to fear in the woods, and that something was coming right at me.
I blinked, and the wolf vanished.
What? No, no, that wasn’t possible, it wasn’t—
The wolf’s head burst through the shattered window, and its teeth snapped, narrowly missing my arm. I yelled even as my left hand came up and I sprayed my mace—I owe you, Dad—right into the wolf’s ugly, yellow eyes.
The wolf howled again, but this time the howl was full of pain.
I expected the wolf to back away, and it did, but…smoke rose from the animal’s eyes. The yellow darkened to a gray as I watched. As if the eyes were burning.
The smoke thickened. The animal howled again, and then it spun away and ran into the darkness.
I stared after it, stunned. Holy hell. Just…holy hell.
My gaze turned back to the mace. What was in that can?
Another twig snapped and in a flash, I had my mace back up. “You stay the hell away from me!” I was the one snarling now. “Or I will spray you until your eyes burn out!” No one was taking a bite out of me.
Silence.
The pounding of my heart filled my ears. Wolves weren’t supposed to attack like that, were they? I mean who’d ever heard of a wolf charging a truck, and then following the wreck and attacking the survivors?
Freaking insane.
I licked my lips. I could taste fear on my tongue. I didn’t know what I should do. How long would the mace last? Wolves usually ran in packs, right?
I won’t end up like those hikers…a skull covered by leaves.
The rasp of my breath hurt my lungs.
“Anna!”
I thought I’d imagined the voice at first, but I still called, “Brent?”
Then hope hit me. He was awake. He’d just been thrown from the truck, maybe knocked out for a moment, he was—
Rafe appeared just a few feet away. Even in the darkness, I knew it was him, not Brent. He was taller, his shoulders broader, and he was running fast as he raced toward me.
I dropped the mace. “Rafe!” My eyes wanted to tear but I blinked them away. “Brent…he’s out there, near the pine trees on the right! He was thrown from the truck and, oh, God, a wolf was here! It tried to bite me and—” My words tumbled out too fast. I couldn’t help it. “I sprayed the wolf, and it burned.”
“Shh…easy.” Rafe was beside the truck now. “If a wolf is around, we damn well don’t want to call the thing back.”
No, they damn well didn’t.
“Are you hurt?” He asked me, his face hit with shadows and darkness.
“Nothing too bad.” Scrapes would heal, the blood would stop. I’d be okay. “I just can’t get out. The door won’t open and my legs are pinned!” Rafe wouldn’t be able to help me. I’d probably need the jaws of life to get out of that truck. I needed to get a grip and think. “You need to get to Brent. Make sure he’s okay. You can check him and then go get help for me.”
His hand came through the window and caught my chin. “I’m not leaving you.”
“I’m stuck!” He had to leave me. There wasn't a choice. As much as I wanted to grab him and hold on tight…that wasn’t an option. “I’ll be okay.” I hoped. “Just—”
His hand fell away from me, and he stepped back.
I lifted my chin, and my voice trembled when I said, “Th-thank you.” I didn’t know how he’d found us, but I was so grateful, even if he was about to leave me alone in the dark.
But I’m not afraid of the dark. Or at least, I hadn’t been afraid before.
Rafe’s right hand shoved glass away from the window, and he gripped the door. His left locked around the handle.
“Rafe?”
Metal groaned and screeched and the door—it just seemed to fall back against him.
No way.
I realized I wasn’t breathing.
“Must have been loose from the crash,” he said as he shoved the door to the ground. “I just had to get it at the right angle.”
I still wasn’t breathing.
Then he leaned into the vehicle and put his hands against the dashboard. “I’m gonna push,” he said, “and when I do, you pull your legs up, got it?”
I nodded.
He pushed. No, shoved, and that dash dented in a good foot.
My legs flew up, and he had me. Rafe locked his arms around me and pulled me out of the truck. I held on to him as tightly as I could. I was probably bleeding on the guy, but I didn’t care. He was strong and warm, and he’d gotten me out of that twisted wreck.