Page 27 of Oathbreaker

I stay there until the first wolf attacks his leg. Then I put the vehicle in gear.

I sensed a larger road at the end of the crude path on the way into the cabin site, so I follow the nudges toward it. Hopefully, I’m going the right way and not off a ravine.

Over the past few days, I’ve determined that I’m at a higher elevation, considering the cold, snowy climate at the cabin. As I wind through the back country roads, I think I’m in the Appalachian Mountains. Maybe the Blue Ridge. But with no cellphone, no money, and no real sense of direction due to the overcast sky, my only option is to drive until I reach civilization.

So I do that. I drive, not thinking of anything for three hours until the throbbing in my ankle and the dwindling fuel supply takes my immediate attention. It doesn’t take very long for me to embrace the fact that I have no clue where I am.

I’m lost. I’m lost, I’m lost, I am lost.

My vision starts to narrow, and I go cold as if ice water were dumped on my head.

Keep it together, Winter. Breathe in.

My hands vibrate.

Breathe out.

My stomach clenches.

Ground yourself.

“Keep your hands at ten and two,” Daddy says.

“And when you get fancy, four and seven,” Mom adds.

Whispers of their voices circle around me.

What do you know is real, Winter?

Am I here? Is this real? Am I still on that floor in the cabin, broken into pieces? Am I dead?

“Smooth operator…” My voice cracks, pain shooting through my voice box and radiating from my wrecked jaw.

I try again, clearing my throat, desperate to hold on to my sanity. The pain snaps me into my body, but I feel my hold slipping.

Sunshine. Happiness. Mom and Daddy. Hunter, Hunter, Hunter….

“Smo—” I lean back to activate my diaphragm and push the sound out. My ribs scream at the movement.

Unleashing a deep, rough, frustrated sound, I slam my hand on the steering wheel and finally attempt to turn on the radio. A cut on my knuckle begins to bleed again.

Before my hand reaches the radio power button, a deer runs in front of the SUV, and I jerk the wheel to the right to avoid hitting it. Slamming on the brakes, my entire battered body revolts at the sudden movement. I skid to a stop, my breathing erratic. The deer leaps off into the dark forest.

The kick-start of adrenaline causes the fine tremor in my body to turn into quaking. It’s a deep, unsettling sensation starting in the base of my spine and radiating through every extremity. The feeling zaps the ends of my matted, tangled hair. The short-sleeved shirt I took from the bag grates against my skin.

I reach my quivering hands up to my face before pulling them down. Adam’s blood covers my arms down to my fingers. Mud and matter cake my nail beds. The manicure I took so much time giving myself, even with my short nails, is a lost memory. The shaking, the shaking, the shaking continues. My eyes twitch.

My teeth chatter.

The overwhelming urge to scream and vomit and rage, rage, rage batters against my shot nerve endings.

I blink and find myself standing on the abandoned road.

I blink and snap to at the agony in my ankle as I pace back and forth, back and forth.

So cold, so cold, so cold. Will I get warm again?

I hit a patch of ice and fall to my knees. The pain is so blinding, so searing, I start to scream.

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