4

Even though our pack lived somewhat close to Shadow City, we’d always kept a wide berth from it, purposely avoiding anyone who lived near there.
I tried to remember everything I knew about Shadow City. It was a refuge that had been created over a thousand years ago. Anyone who needed help or asylum could go there. All shifter races lived there together, plus angels, vampires, witches… almost every supernatural race in existence.
When the city was founded, the silver wolves had been its protectors until corruption took hold. Unable to fight the corrupt leaders and unwilling to die for them, the silver wolves had chosen to leave.
At the time, Shadow City’s alpha wolf had promised to clean the place up and had asked for us to not go too far away. Then, shortly after the silver wolves left, the city went into lockdown, not letting anyone in or out until the past few years.
Dad had gone there about two years ago, to meet with the current alpha wolf, Atticus, but he’d left me behind, telling me he needed to vet the situation and that I was to stay with the pack in case things went awry. I’d been sixteen then, old enough to step into the alpha role if necessary.
Despite the alpha’s promise that things had gotten better, Dad had been wary of some of the other leaders in the city, specifically the angel, Azbogah, and some of the witches. Atticus had said to give him time, that we’d see more change. However, Dad never heard from him again.
For him to tell me to go there meant the Shadow City pack was my only hope for safety. That didn’t sit well with me, but that was a problem for another day.
Right now, I had to get these assholes off my trail.
The rushing of the river helped me form an idea. I probably should’ve done it a while ago, but I’d foolishly thought I could outrun them.
Mistakes were forgivable as long as you could do something about them. And fortunately, I was alive and still moving, which meant everything in my current situation. No one else in my pack could say that.
“She’s changing course,” someone huffed. “She’s heading for the river.”
At least, they were showing signs of fatigue too. It would’ve sucked if they didn’t sound as winded as I felt.
“Don’t let her get there,” another one yelled. “I’m calling for backup. We can’t lose her.”
The good thing about changing directions-it made their weight shift on their feet. I hadn’t been able to get a good read on how many were chasing me, but with them pivoting, it sounded like about ten were riding my ass.
That was more than I’d expected. I’d hoped for a handful. With that many, my odds of getting away were a whole lot slimmer.
A problem for after I reached the water.
Watching the ground closely, I looked for patches of mud, roots, and tree branches that could make me stumble or fall. Unfortunately, this slowed me down, but that was marginally safer than taking a tumble. Another reason I’d stayed close to the road-more stable ground.
The downward slope helped me run faster. Tree branches cut my arms, causing some bleeding, but nothing that fazed me. I barely felt the burn and the sting, but what was all too easy to feel was that I was their fucking prey. Something that angered both my wolf and me.
Their footsteps grew louder, alerting me that they were catching up. They were larger than me, so gravity worked in their favor.
I hadn’t thought the plan through, but the river grew closer.
As long as I reached it before they caught up, I should be good. My plan was to go underwater and swim for as long as possible so they’d lose sight of me and my scent.
“I see her!” one of them shouted, way too close for comfort.
Ignoring the overwhelming urge to look over my shoulder, I pressed forward.
Murky water appeared between some trees as the Tennessee River came into view. The water didn’t appear to move fast, but that was misleading. In spring, there was so much rain that the current was strong. Luckily, the section down here didn’t have heavy traffic. The boats stayed mostly north of us, so it wasn’t risky to swim around here.
My attackers’ breathing was so loud that I could tell they were almost on top of me. If things didn’t change drastically, they’d catch me before I reached the river.
I hadn’t run over fifteen miles to be captured now.
Concentrating on my goal, I threw caution to the wind and hauled ass, no longer caring about my footing. I pumped my arms at my sides, trying to make my feet move even faster.
As I reached the embankment, the mulch turned into muddy stone, and I leaped.
“No,” a guy screamed as something snagged my right ankle.
Twisting my body to the right, I used my left foot to kick the punk in the face. His head snapped back, and his grip on me loosened.
I fell on my back, barely short of the water, my head dangling off the edge of the embankment. I raised my head to see nine men stalking up only a few yards away from me.
If I didn’t do something, they’d catch me before I hit the water.
The guy I’d kicked was knocked out, so I climbed over and grabbed his gun. I hated using guns, but right now, it was a necessity. I stood and fired at the rest of the men, who were too close for comfort.
“Take cover,” one yelled as all nine scattered. I waited a second before firing again, keeping a random pattern in hopes that they’d wait to ensure I was done firing before racing after me again.
Not far away, the river curved sharply. If I could hold my breath long enough, I could still lose them. After a few more random gunshots, I squatted so they couldn’t get a good visual. I fired once again then let my natural instincts take over. I flipped backward and hit the water feet first, sinking under the surface, and swam as hard as I could, using the current to my advantage.
I swam deeper, hoping the extra cloudiness of the water left over from the storms would hide me. A few bubbles hit my leg, informing me that at least some of them had jumped in but that I’d gained some distance.
Swimming was one of my favorite pastimes, something I was grateful for now as I kicked as hard as I could with the current to get as far ahead as possible. My lungs began to burn, needing oxygen. I exhaled a little, trying to prolong the time before I would inevitably need to resurface.
After several more strokes, I had to emerge. Trying to be careful, I allowed only the top of my face to break through the water, hoping to stay hidden.
“Look, there she is,” one of them yelled.
Dammit. I submerged once more and let panic push me harder than before. I couldn’t let them catch me. If I did, then all the lives sacrificed for me would be in vain.
I couldn’t live with that.
With each stroke, I expected to be grabbed, but it didn’t happen… at least, not yet.
I swam diagonally, hoping to catch a stronger current. When my lungs began to scream again, the water pushed against my back, propelling me forward.
Good, but I needed to replenish my air supply.
I waited as long as I could before my instincts took over and my arms pushed me toward the surface. However, the current wouldn’t release me, and I was too weak to break through.
Panic seized my body, and my brain grew lightheaded. If I didn’t get a hold of myself, I’d drown. Quickly, I flipped onto my back and stretched out my body, feet first. All the articles I’d read about river safety said to float with my head upstream and my legs down. Being horizontal to the water should help, at least marginally.
Surprisingly, getting into that position was easy once I wasn’t trying to break through.
Something brushed my hand, and I grasped it. For all I knew, I could be holding hands with a corpse, but I was desperate enough to use whatever was available for leverage. Hopefully, it was a log. I yanked it toward me with the little bit of energy I had left. The edges of my vision started to darken, and I pushed the maybe-log down toward the riverbed, trying to use it to propel myself upward.