Page 52 of The Last Sanctuary
Warily, she scanned the grounds outside the enclosure. The fog lay white and dense as a stifling blanket, deadening sound. She could see less than thirty feet in any direction. Her pulse rushed in her ears.
No lights were bobbing through the fog. No murky figures darting in the shadows. An oppressive silence had settled dense and heavy over the sanctuary. She heard no night sounds, not even crickets or the rustle of leaves.
When she was sure the coast was clear, she unlocked the gate with a press of her palm and opened it wide for the hybrids. She stepped through to the second gate and opened that one as well. She turned back to the wolf.
Shadow remained inside the enclosure. He regarded her curiously, his tail half-raised.
She gestured to him to follow her. “You’re free now.”
He made up his mind quickly. He trotted through the gates, sniffing the ground eagerly, taking in all the new, strange scents. His ears pricked, and he turned back toward the enclosure before letting out a series of low yips.
A moment later, Luna appeared out of the mist like a white ghost. She paused at the first gate, hesitating. Shadow yipped to her again as if in encouragement, tail low and gently waving.
Luna whined. Her ears flattened. She certainly didn’t care for this crazy idea.
“I know, I get it. We have to take the risk. It’s the only way.”
Shadow loped over to the white wolf and nuzzled her neck with his muzzle, as if to offer reassurance. He strode a few yards past the gate and turned, looking over his shoulder with that same encouraging gaze he’d given to Raven.
Luna’s tail lifted. She took a hesitant step outside the enclosure. She raised her head, sniffing, her ears lifting tentatively.
“It’s okay,” Raven whispered.
Luna jerked her head in Raven’s direction and growled.
Raven raised her hands in surrender. “Okay, okay. I won’t talk to you or look at you. I get it.”
Seemingly reassured that Luna would follow in her own time, Shadow bounded off toward the bears with great enthusiasm. Luna moved slowly, warily, investigating every scent and object before moving on.
They loped toward the center of the park, headed toward the walk-in enclosure with the lake and the flamingos.
“That’s the wrong way,” she whispered as loud as she dared. “Shadow! Luna! Come back. The woods are this way.”
They didn’t listen, didn’t even bother with an ear twitch or tail wag. They were wolves, after all. The alpha pair. They obeyed no one, especially not a teenage girl.
Raven watched them go, a sinking sensation in the pit of her stomach. She hadn’t actually believed they would follow her around like faithful companions, had she?
They weren’t dogs. They were wild creatures. The king and queen of the forest.
She knew that. Yet she’d somehow expected that they would willingly follow her to safety, that she would save them, and miraculously, they would understand and appreciate what she’d done.
Instead, they’d loped off in the opposite direction of safety. She had no way to call them back or redirect them. She could only pray they’d make it out on their own.
She wasn’t a praying type of girl, but she prayed then. Fervently, with her whole heart and soul.
A mournful howl split the silence. A second and then a third joined the chorus. The hairs on Raven’s arms stood on end. The surviving timber wolves needed her now, too.
No time to waste on self-pity and worry. There was too much to do.
First, she made for the back gate of the wildlife refuge to open it for the animals to escape. Using the bioscanner to unlock it, she swung the gates wide and disengaged the electrified wires along the entire exterior perimeter fence. Without the electrified top wires, the tiger, zebra, and wolves could leap the wrought-iron fence at any point along the perimeter.
The bears and bonobos could clamber over it, while the foxes—Zoe, Zelda, and Magnus—and the otters could squeeze through the bars.
The remaining animals would have to find the open gate to get out.
After propping open the rear gate with a rock, Raven moved stealthily back to the timber wolves’ paddock. On a normal night, they’d be locked in their night house. This was no normal night.
Even through the mist, she could see their filmy shapes in the center of their clearing. They sat on their haunches, heads thrown back as they howled their sorrow at the sky. It was a beautiful, tragic, haunting song that filled her heart with grief.
