Page 84 of The Last Sanctuary
But not impossible.
If she were smart. If she were careful.
What are you going to do?
Only a short while ago, she’d sat on the roof of the tiger house and planned to flee, to escape her problems, to run from the things she loved. That was a lifetime ago.
She was someone else now. Someone new. Someone better.
It was a reckless decision. Stupid, most certainly. The wrong move. It would probably get her killed.
She was going to do it anyway.
The river rushed and gurgled. Sunlight sparkled on the surface of the water. The trees swayed in vibrant colors.
Raven unfolded her legs and stood. Her feet were steady.
She turned and headed into the woods toward Haven.
Chapter Thirty-Six
It was dusk by the time Raven reached the outskirts of Haven wildlife refuge.
She skirted the perimeter of the park outside the fence until she neared the front gates of the refuge, then crouched in the underbrush near the front of the lodge. Her pack weighed heavily against her spine, but she feared going anywhere without it.
Cautiously, from her position hidden in the bushes outside the fence, she listened and waited. Crickets whirred in the long grass. An owl hooted from somewhere nearby. The air smelled of smoke.
A few dozen motorcycles were parked along the drive at the park entrance. The semi-truck had arrived. The rear of the truck was backed up to the food storage buildings, the rear doors hanging open, the interior empty. The men hadn’t begun loading yet.
About forty Headhunters crowded around the ten picnic tables in front of the Grizzly Grill. All were men except for one or two hard-looking women. They mostly did the cooking and cleaning, it seemed.
Loud voices drew her attention. She forced her anger down and shifted her focus to the group of Headhunters. Scorpio wore a collection of three fox pelts across his broad shoulders. The lush red tails rippled down his back. He stood in front of the large grill, turning slabs of meat. Damien stood next to him, his back to Raven.
The delicious scent reached her nostrils. She could guess the meat.
Beside the grill, Vaughn held a chunk of grilled meat in his bare hands, ripping out chunks with his teeth. Juices dribbled down his chin. Scorpio laughed and took another swig of bourbon. Cobb slumped at a picnic table, picking at his teeth with a twig.
Dekker wasn’t eating. He wasn’t smiling or laughing or swearing with the others. He paced in front of the picnic tables, his movements languid but his shoulders tense, his body coiled as if ready to spring, alert as any predator. His eyes blazed with bloodlust.
She spotted the men she’d wounded yesterday hunched at one of the picnic tables. Their wounds were bandaged, probably from the first aid kit in the lodge. They nursed bottles of bourbon they’d stolen from the restaurant’s bar.
Would the Headhunters search for a hospital after they left the refuge? Were there any functioning hospitals left?
Right now, she didn’t care. She hoped their wounds developed gangrene. She prayed they died horrific, agonizing, slow deaths, screaming for their mamas.
One of the picnic tables was loaded with piles of guns—mostly semi-automatic rifles, handguns, revolvers, and a few hunting knives sheathed in leather.
On the last picnic table, several raw pelts were stretched to dry. Timber wolf pelts. She recognized Echo, Loki, and Suki’s dark gray fur.
Anger scorched through her, turning her veins to ash. The foxes had never hurt anyone. The wolves were primal beauty and grace in motion.
They were all beautiful. The Headhunters had slaughtered them.
Her stomach lurched with grief and anger. She forced herself to stay focused, to tamp down her rage. At least Kodiak and Sage’s pelts were missing. As were Electra’s and many of the other animals. Hopefully, they’d made it far enough away to be safe.
Luna’s mournful howls echoed from the direction of the tiger house. The Headhunters must have locked her in Vlad’s chamber.
Raven couldn’t wait any longer. Though the sky was darkening into twilight, it wasn’t completely dark yet. The Headhunters would finish eating and drinking shortly.
