The Chosen Ones

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter 15

We didn't pause when we reached shore. We didn't pause after hiking all night inland. We didn't even pause for food, although it had been hours since we'd eaten. We only stopped late in the afternoon the next day when the storm started, a giant clap of thunder that shook the ground and rattled the tree branches above.

"Maybe it's just passing," I muttered to myself.

Suddenly huge drops fell from the sky, pounding against the top of my head and soaking me instantly. I bit back my grimace. The healing blisters on my feet had ripped open that morning, and my shoulder wound throbbed. The pain and exhaustion were finally winning and my steps had slowed, leaving me trailing far behind Thane. At times I lost sight of him, but was too tired to care.

"Up ahead," Thane called out over the patter of rain.

I swiped the water from my face and used what little strength I had left to trudge uphill. Thane stood near a dark opening that burrowed under a rocky ledge and into the ground. Although the thought of crawling into that cave, where there were most likely spiders and mice and other things I'd rather not befriend, horrified me, it was shelter and that's what we needed at the moment.

"It will protect us," he said, as if sensing my reservations.

I had my doubts. But whatever animals might be lurking within the darkness would have to share. I dropped to my knees and crawled into the dirt tunnel. The sides scraped against my pack, but it opened into a larger room only a few feet inside. Depleted, I set the bag on the ground and settled with my back against the wall, watching Thane as he moved into the cave. He looked pensive, tired, and I'd never seen him that way. It made him seem more human, instead of the beautiful one I always thought of when I looked at him.

"This will do for now." He settled with his back against the opposite wall and tossed me the bag. "Food inside."

Thank God. With trembling fingers, I managed to pry open the sack. More wrinkly apples, and some sort of oats. But it was the container of stew I smelled that had me trembling with need. I opened the lid of the metal box. It was cold, and the fat had congealed atop the stew, but I didn't care. I took the spoon from the bag and ate, savoring each chill bite until half the container was gone. I tried not to think about the variety of warm meals I used to eat at the compound, but with each cold spoonful the memories came flooding back. My appetite waned. Unable to take another cold bite, I handed the container to Thane.

"Keep it," he said.

"No, you have to eat—"

"Jane, I can last much, much longer without eating than you. Besides, your human food does little to nourish me."

I shivered, pulling back and clutching the container to my chest. Was he asking for blood? My blood? I closed the lid on the stew and set it back in the bag. "I'll save it for later."

"I'm not going to attack you for your blood, Jane, if that's what you're worried about."

I must have looked unsure, for he continued, "When you see a deer and you're hungry, do you ever think of jumping on it and ripping its flesh from its bones with your teeth?"

"Ugh, no."

"Exactly."

"But then I've never gone as long as you have without food." I must have hit a point, for we grew silent again. Outside the rain continued to fall, the patter lulling me into a dream-like state where I only wanted to sink into sleep for a day or two. "How do you do that?"