Greykin Mountain

| 74 | So Close, Yet So far

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Jackson woke when Damon stirred. A thick fog had surrounded the area of the gloomy forest the small pack was sleeping in, and as a cold wind brushed past, it carried upon it a feeling of trepidation.

          Something was wrong.

          "Damon?" he asked quietly.

          The white wolf lifted his head and stared into the murk. Jackson watched his eyes move, scanning every inch in front of him. But what was he looking for?

          "Damon?" he asked again.

          Damon didn't reply; he kept searching...and when he adorned the vacant stare he had in every serious situation, he said, "We have to run."

          Jackson didn't question why. Damon's words struck him with fear and desperation to do as he was told. As the white wolf climbed to his paws, Jackson shifted into his wolf form and followed the Alpha around the car.

          Damon gathered everyone up in no more than a minute, and when he said, "Hunters," to them, terrified stares struck their tired faces.

          Everyone ran with Damon, hurrying through the woods, panting and gasping in fear as each time they looked over their shoulders.

          Jackson looked, too. But he couldn't see anyone.

          There was a smell, though.

          A smell he'd detected before...from the top of the mountain when the pack came over to this side of Greykin.

          The hunter camp. The camp in which Riker's group might be. Was it them? Were they the hunters chasing them?

          It was then that Jackson saw the silhouette of a man in the murk.

          A shimmer of silver.

          And the flicker of a flame.

          A flame which grew nearer and hearer and—

          The flaming arrow flew straight over Jackson's head and hit the ground a few feet in front of him. It exploded on collision, sending the frozen dirt everywhere.

          "Jackson!" Tokala yelled and snatched his leg just in time to pull him out of the way.

          Jackson stumbled but kept running, and when Damon yelled at everyone to run faster, he did his best to keep up.

          But another arrow hit the ground; more arrows flew from behind them, colliding with the trees, too. A whole storm of dirt, snow, and tree bark erupted in front and beside them—it was like they were running through a warzone!

          Then came the voices of men. Jackson couldn't tell how many there were, but by the sounds of it, there were a lot.

          Weapons started firing. The loud boom of rifles grew closer and closer as the sound of churning tires edged nearer.

          "Keep running!" came Damon's voice. "We can lose them on the mountain!"

          Jackson stared ahead, and when he spotted the mountain they were approaching, his fear was accompanied by hope. All they had to do was run a little more to reach it.

          But the sound of a revving bike came from Jackson's right, and when he looked over there, he saw the shadow of two men riding a motorcycle within the fog.