325

Peter

My feet pounded a frantic rhythm against the uneven earth, branches whipping at my face, thorns tearing at my clothes. How long had I been running? How much further did I have to go? I didn’t know, and it didn’t matter so long as I got there.

My lungs burned, legs screaming in protest, but still I ran. The trail of blood behind me and the patchwork of wounds across my body, chunks of missing and regrowing flesh, weren’t my concern right now. The creature—the wolf was after me, and unlike before, it didn’t seem willing to back off or slow down.

It was going to kill me, and what happened after that was anyone’s guess. Behind me, the guttural snarl of the wolf echoed through the trees. Too close to be comfortable. Too close to make sense. This was too much like that dream, but worse. So much worse. The sky was a kaleidoscope of images I could barely make out. They flashed in the sky and in my vision, making it hard to see.

I saw Lucy. I saw Michelle. The long