Page 85 of The Last Sanctuary
They’d soon be in the mood for killing.
They’d butcher Luna. Then they’d come for Raven.
Raven shifted her position, moving to her hands and knees, and crept along the fence line, cautious with each movement.
If they heard her, it was all over. Luckily, their raucous voices were loud enough to cover any accidental sounds she made.
Keeping low to the ground, she traced the perimeter fence line back to the location of the maintenance shed. After checking to make sure the electrified wires were still disabled, she clambered back over the fence and raced low across open ground until she reached the shed.
Slipping inside, she rose to her feet as she strained her ears for any change in the noise coming from the picnic area. The loud, boisterous voices continued.
She fumbled for a lighter from the dusty top shelf, stuffed it in her cargo pocket, and wiped her grimy fingers on her pants.She grabbed two containers of gasoline and backed out of the shed.
Ignoring the meat house, she made her way to the food storage building. She drenched the weathered wooden siding in gasoline, then peeked in the single window to make sure no one was inside before entering.
The stench of rotting fruit filled her nostrils. Undaunted, she poured gasoline over the pallets and shelves, the bags and boxes and containers full of precious, life-sustaining food.
Food that could feed her for over a year. It was also food the Headhunters desperately wanted. If she couldn’t save it, then she would take it from them. They wouldn’t have a reason to stay with the food destroyed.
Even more importantly, burning the food also served the crucial purpose of a much-needed distraction. If the Headhunters were drawn to the fire, they wouldn’t be paying attention to the tiger house.
The oily stench of the gas churned her stomach. Dizziness wavered through her. She fought it off. After she’d finished, Raven backed out, splashing a trail with the last of the gasoline. She tossed the container aside and pulled the lighter out of her pocket.
Twilight had fallen in earnest. The sky deepened to rich indigo. Bats whirled and darted above the treetops. The first stars winked to life. The wind picked up, carrying with it the tang of ozone. Dark clouds glowered thick and low over the horizon.
Raven glanced upward. A storm was headed their way, after all. In a couple of hours, the rain would come. The storm would ensure the fire didn’t spread further than the refuge.
She didn’t hesitate. She lit the lighter, dropped it onto the saturated grass, and leaped back.
Flames whooshed to life.
The fire raced along the trail of gasoline straight into the food storage building. The fire licked the walls hungrily. Swiftly, it flared into a blaze, consuming the old wood, eating through the boards, burning through the gas-soaked interior with startling fury.
Raven watched the fire for a moment. Heat seared her face. Her eyes watered. She blinked and coughed. An acrid stench stung her nostrils, her eyes.
The air went blurry with the intensity of the heat. Crackling and popping sounds filled the air. Wood splintered and heaved. Everything bathed in a flickering orange light.
Thick black smoke rose in a billowing column. A signal, a warning.
Panicked shouts rose over the crackling roar of the fire.
Time to go.
Chapter Thirty-Seven
In the dark, Raven ran for the tiger house, following the sounds of Luna’s growls and howls, furtively darting from building to building, passing the lodge, the restaurant, the souvenir shop, the entrance, and the parking lot, staying low to the ground and keeping buildings or trees between herself and the Headhunters as much as she could.
Behind her, smoke spiraled into the dark sky, blotting out the stars. Orange flames leaped and sparked along the storage building.
The Headhunters shouted in alarm. Several dark figures sprinted for the blazing building. The ruckus obscured her noise as she rounded the rear of the tiger enclosure, climbed over the perimeter fence, and dashed through the overgrown grass to the tiger house.
As if sensing her presence, the white wolf’s howls grew louder.
From somewhere outside the refuge came an answering howl—long and low and desperate. Shadow had found them. He was out there in the woods beyond the refuge, searching for his mate.
“I’ve got this,” Raven said under her breath, though the black wolf couldn’t hear her. “I’m going to save her, I promise.”
She hoped the Headhunters wouldn’t go after him, that they were too distracted by their food supply going up in flames. She had to focus on saving Luna. Shadow was safer outside the refuge—she could only pray he stayed that way.
