The Savage Grace
Page 33
I peaked through the bushes and found myself behind two hunters, dressed in camouflage rain gear, with high-tech-looking scopes attached to their large rifles.
One of them bent down, as if checking a print in the mud. He wiped rain from his face and signaled to his friend to be silent. He made a gesture, and the two separated, fanning out as they took off in a quiet jog after their prey. I followed the hunter who supposedly never missed, because he seemed the greater threat, as they headed toward the ravine.
I knew what they’d find there before I even saw him.
The great white wolf stood only a few yards away, at the edge of the ravine. He glared at the expert hunter as he raised his gun. The red dot of the gun’s laser scope marked the hunter’s aim, about six inches left of the wolf’s heart.
The white wolf bared his teeth in a growl. He stepped back, and one of his hind paws slipped a bit on the cliff’s edge.
I could feel the satisfaction radiating off the hunter’s shoulders, and it made my insides roar with power. Just as his fingers went for the trigger, I ran up on a boulder and leaped onto the hunter’s back. I hit him hard from behind with my forearms as I landed. He shouted, and his gun went off, sending a wild bullet flying before I slammed him to the ground. He landed in a motionless heap with me on top of him.
I gasped and rolled him onto his side, noticing a trickle of blood seeping from the gash in his forehead. My heart quickened with panic. I hadn’t actually wanted to hurt him. I was about to feel for his pulse in his neck when he groaned. I pulled my hand back.
“Hey!” the second hunter shouted.
My head snapped up, and I saw him running toward me in the rain with his gun raised.
“What’d you do to him?” He stopped short when he got a better look at me—the teenage girl standing over his unconscious two-hundred-pound friend. “Who are you?”
It was then that I recognized the man. Pete Bradshaw’s only uncle, Jeff Bradshaw. I’d met him once, when my family were guests at Pete’s sister’s wedding two summers ago. He looked a lot like Pete’s dad, only blond, but he was only a few years older than we were. April had practically swooned when Jeff had asked her to dance at the wedding.
What on earth was I supposed to do now? I didn’t have time to think of a proper excuse for what I had done—and he might recognize me, too, if I let him look at me any longer.…
The white wolf let out a sharp growl. Jeff started to swing his gun around, ready to shoot at the crouching animal. Before he could finish the movement, I lunged for him, grabbed the end of his rifle, yanked it from his hands, and then swung it at him like baseball bat. The butt of the gun made a cracking noise as it smacked against the side of his head—almost as if I’d hit a home run. He fell to the ground, unconscious but still breathing, next to his friend.
The rain thickened. My soaked clothes clung to my shivering body. Lightning and thunder crashed as the white wolf arched his head back in a great, earsplitting howl. The first hunter I’d knocked down let out an answering groan. He’d be conscious soon. I had to get Daniel out of here.
“Come,” I said to the white wolf, motioning to him.
He whined, and I was afraid he’d try to run away.
“Come, please.”
He stepped cautiously toward me until his snout was almost touching my chest. I threaded my fingers into the wet fur around his neck. “This isn’t over yet. Not until you’re safe.”
He let out a grunt as if he understood.
“Let’s go, then.”
Chapter Seventeen
NOT OUT OF THE WOODS YET
HEADED HOME
Rain poured down on us as we ran. Like a full-on monsoon had blown into Minnesota. I carried the two rifles I’d taken off the hunters and ran through the forest with the great white wolf at my side. Our feet sank deep into the mud with each step, but I prayed the rain would wash away our trail. What if Pete’s uncle Jeff had recognized me? Would he remember who I am? With that much money on the line—not to mention wanting to get even with someone who’d bashed you in the head with a rifle—I knew those two hunters would probably come looking for us as soon as they regained consciousness. How long that would be, I didn’t know. It’s not like I made a habit of knocking people out.
We headed in the direction of my house because I didn’t know where else to go. Where was I going to hide a giant white wolf?
Daniel’s footfalls started to falter. He slowed to a lumbering jog.
“Are you okay?”
He glanced at me with his glinting eyes. His fur was as soaked as my clothing, water dripping off his muzzle. He whined, then took another few limping steps, and then came to a halt. He whimpered as he sat, shaking his head in what seemed like frustration—or pain.
“Come on!” I whispered loudly. “We can’t stay here. It’s not safe.”
He looked back in the direction from where we’d come—back to where the hunters were—and growled. But the growl broke off into another whine. He shook one of his front legs, and I noticed a patch of blood on his shoulder.
“Did you get hit by one of those bullets?”
He whine-growled in response.
No wonder he couldn’t run anymore.
What on earth was I going to do? How could I hide a giant, injured, white wolf?
“I need you to press forward. We need to keep going.”
Did he even really understand me?
He panted several times and then limped forward. We made it about twenty more feet before he stopped again, almost collapsing. I knew he wouldn’t be able to run any longer on his injured leg. If only he were in human form—his front leg would be his arm instead, and he wouldn’t have to use it to run.
If he were human, he would be much easier to hide. Those hunters would be looking for a wolf, not a boy. I could feel the heat of the moonstone resting against my chest, and I remembered what Gabriel had said about how to change Daniel back.
I pulled the moonstone from my neck and held it dangling from its long string. It seemed heavy all of a sudden, like the weight of my decision was encapsulated in it. Not only had I prayed for guidance, I’d also prayed for the ability to bring Daniel back to me. I held the means in my hand, but the strength to do it had to come from inside of me.
Was I ready? Could I do it?
I heard a shout from somewhere off in the distance—but too close for comfort. I didn’t have much time before we’d be discovered.
One of them bent down, as if checking a print in the mud. He wiped rain from his face and signaled to his friend to be silent. He made a gesture, and the two separated, fanning out as they took off in a quiet jog after their prey. I followed the hunter who supposedly never missed, because he seemed the greater threat, as they headed toward the ravine.
I knew what they’d find there before I even saw him.
The great white wolf stood only a few yards away, at the edge of the ravine. He glared at the expert hunter as he raised his gun. The red dot of the gun’s laser scope marked the hunter’s aim, about six inches left of the wolf’s heart.
The white wolf bared his teeth in a growl. He stepped back, and one of his hind paws slipped a bit on the cliff’s edge.
I could feel the satisfaction radiating off the hunter’s shoulders, and it made my insides roar with power. Just as his fingers went for the trigger, I ran up on a boulder and leaped onto the hunter’s back. I hit him hard from behind with my forearms as I landed. He shouted, and his gun went off, sending a wild bullet flying before I slammed him to the ground. He landed in a motionless heap with me on top of him.
I gasped and rolled him onto his side, noticing a trickle of blood seeping from the gash in his forehead. My heart quickened with panic. I hadn’t actually wanted to hurt him. I was about to feel for his pulse in his neck when he groaned. I pulled my hand back.
“Hey!” the second hunter shouted.
My head snapped up, and I saw him running toward me in the rain with his gun raised.
“What’d you do to him?” He stopped short when he got a better look at me—the teenage girl standing over his unconscious two-hundred-pound friend. “Who are you?”
It was then that I recognized the man. Pete Bradshaw’s only uncle, Jeff Bradshaw. I’d met him once, when my family were guests at Pete’s sister’s wedding two summers ago. He looked a lot like Pete’s dad, only blond, but he was only a few years older than we were. April had practically swooned when Jeff had asked her to dance at the wedding.
What on earth was I supposed to do now? I didn’t have time to think of a proper excuse for what I had done—and he might recognize me, too, if I let him look at me any longer.…
The white wolf let out a sharp growl. Jeff started to swing his gun around, ready to shoot at the crouching animal. Before he could finish the movement, I lunged for him, grabbed the end of his rifle, yanked it from his hands, and then swung it at him like baseball bat. The butt of the gun made a cracking noise as it smacked against the side of his head—almost as if I’d hit a home run. He fell to the ground, unconscious but still breathing, next to his friend.
The rain thickened. My soaked clothes clung to my shivering body. Lightning and thunder crashed as the white wolf arched his head back in a great, earsplitting howl. The first hunter I’d knocked down let out an answering groan. He’d be conscious soon. I had to get Daniel out of here.
“Come,” I said to the white wolf, motioning to him.
He whined, and I was afraid he’d try to run away.
“Come, please.”
He stepped cautiously toward me until his snout was almost touching my chest. I threaded my fingers into the wet fur around his neck. “This isn’t over yet. Not until you’re safe.”
He let out a grunt as if he understood.
“Let’s go, then.”
Chapter Seventeen
NOT OUT OF THE WOODS YET
HEADED HOME
Rain poured down on us as we ran. Like a full-on monsoon had blown into Minnesota. I carried the two rifles I’d taken off the hunters and ran through the forest with the great white wolf at my side. Our feet sank deep into the mud with each step, but I prayed the rain would wash away our trail. What if Pete’s uncle Jeff had recognized me? Would he remember who I am? With that much money on the line—not to mention wanting to get even with someone who’d bashed you in the head with a rifle—I knew those two hunters would probably come looking for us as soon as they regained consciousness. How long that would be, I didn’t know. It’s not like I made a habit of knocking people out.
We headed in the direction of my house because I didn’t know where else to go. Where was I going to hide a giant white wolf?
Daniel’s footfalls started to falter. He slowed to a lumbering jog.
“Are you okay?”
He glanced at me with his glinting eyes. His fur was as soaked as my clothing, water dripping off his muzzle. He whined, then took another few limping steps, and then came to a halt. He whimpered as he sat, shaking his head in what seemed like frustration—or pain.
“Come on!” I whispered loudly. “We can’t stay here. It’s not safe.”
He looked back in the direction from where we’d come—back to where the hunters were—and growled. But the growl broke off into another whine. He shook one of his front legs, and I noticed a patch of blood on his shoulder.
“Did you get hit by one of those bullets?”
He whine-growled in response.
No wonder he couldn’t run anymore.
What on earth was I going to do? How could I hide a giant, injured, white wolf?
“I need you to press forward. We need to keep going.”
Did he even really understand me?
He panted several times and then limped forward. We made it about twenty more feet before he stopped again, almost collapsing. I knew he wouldn’t be able to run any longer on his injured leg. If only he were in human form—his front leg would be his arm instead, and he wouldn’t have to use it to run.
If he were human, he would be much easier to hide. Those hunters would be looking for a wolf, not a boy. I could feel the heat of the moonstone resting against my chest, and I remembered what Gabriel had said about how to change Daniel back.
I pulled the moonstone from my neck and held it dangling from its long string. It seemed heavy all of a sudden, like the weight of my decision was encapsulated in it. Not only had I prayed for guidance, I’d also prayed for the ability to bring Daniel back to me. I held the means in my hand, but the strength to do it had to come from inside of me.
Was I ready? Could I do it?
I heard a shout from somewhere off in the distance—but too close for comfort. I didn’t have much time before we’d be discovered.
