Chương 37: Successful Rescue

Willow and Scara hoist Larch upright.

"I'm okay. Really, I'm alright."

"What's that on the back of your neck?" He retreats into the darkness, hiding from their view as the door bursts open against the wall, shuddering on its hinges. With clawed hands at his sides, Crimson ascends the stairs slowly, a hunched, shadowy figure.

"I told you, I'm fine." Crimson's head whips around at the sound just as Scara reaches Larch.

"It's been there for days and he won't say what happened..."

"As if you truly care." A shadow sweeps across the floor. Crimson retreats into the corridor. His head bowed, he advances slowly and deliberately, eyes glaring upward with a deadly stare. Churro positions himself between Scara and Larch.

"Can we stop arguing for even a moment?"

"Where's Crimson? He ought to be back by now." Willow pointed out. She fails to notice the silhouette shifting before the door, while outside Crimson nears the door. He slides the Janitor's master key into the lock while his other clawed hand rises. His breathing comes in jagged bursts, nearly choked off by the deep, guttural snarls swelling from deep within his throat. His chest rises and falls with every desperate inhale, his eyes clamped shut as though he could will the beast to stay away.

With a sharp turn, Crimson breaks the key off inside the lock. Willow catches sight of a figure standing at the door.

"Crimson?" She rushes toward the door. She seizes the knob and turns it hard, but it refuses to budge. Peering outside, she can make out nothing but the back of Crimson's head.

"Crimson? What are you doing?" Without turning his head, he begins to move. Walking away from her.

"Where is he headed? Crimson!" She hammers her fists against the door, wrenching the knob and screaming his name, until at last Scara's voice rises above her own.

"Stop, stop! Do you hear that? Listen." Sirens. The three of them dash to the windows and gaze out over the school parking lot, where Deputy Sheriff cruisers come tearing in, their red and blue lights spinning through the dark. With each wail of the sirens climbing higher, Crimson crumples to the ground, trembling, sweat glistening on his brow... yet back to ordinary once more.

As police swarmed the school parking lot, Sheriff Valentine speaks with Crimson and Churro.

"You're sure it was Autzee Tale?" the sheriff pressed. Crimson gives a nod. Valentine looks to Churro to back it up.

"I laid eyes on him as well. And the janitor?"

"We're still searching for him." Reading on Amazon or a pirate site? This novel is from Royal Road. Support the author by reading it there. A shout rings out.

"Sheriff! Sheriff, we need you over here."

"Stay put. The two of you." Churro glances at Crimson.

"We made it out alive, man. We outlasted the Alpha. That still counts for something, doesn't it? Being alive?" Crimson shakes his head and lowers himself onto the school steps.

"We were in the Chemistry room and it passed right by us. You really believe it didn't pick up on us? You honestly think it didn't know precisely where we were?"

"So why haven't we been killed yet?"

"Because it wants me among its pack. Yet I suspect I'll have to deal with my old pack first." Crimson asked, probing. And just this once, he finds himself at a loss for words.

"That isn't even the worst of it. Because the moment he forced me to shift... I actually wanted to. I wanted to end you. Every single one of you." While those words settle over Churro, Crimson's gaze drifts beyond him. Shock washes across his features. He trails him past officers and crime scene technicians, all the way to an ambulance where an EMT is examining someone. Mark raises his head.

"There you are. I made it out? Not without a struggle. And judging by what they've been telling me, I owe my life to you. I believe I owe you a raise." Valentine moves closer, easing Crimson back with a gentle touch.

"We'll give you a chance to speak with him later. Let the EMTs take a look at him." Crimson retreats alongside Churro, and the two of them keep their eyes fixed on Mark. Yet someone else rushing between the police cars captures his attention.

"Willow?" She looks over her shoulder and sees him rushing her way.

"Are you all right?"

"My dad's heading here now. And honestly, I have no idea what happened to you in there. I don't know what was going through your head. Maybe nothing was. But at this moment... I don't feel like I can trust you."

" The words spill out fast.

"I can explain... All right. Say nothing more. Please. Just hold off on saying anything for now. Churro's Dad is driving me back home. I need to be certain my Mom isn't losing her mind. And right after that, I'm getting myself a brand-new phone first thing tomorrow morning..." Crimson parts his lips to speak, but no words will come. Only a brief, tormented breath. Nearly like a gasp of agony, bracing for the words he already senses are on their way...

"Don't call. Just don't." And she pivots away. Striding off, away from him. Abandoning him there, alone beneath the flashing red and blue lights of the police. Beneath the glow of a nearly full moon, Crimson trails Churro along a shadowy trail through the woods.

"Can you at least tell me what we're doing way out here?"

"When your best friend hears from his girlfriend that they're going on a break..." Churro fishes a bottle of Jack Daniels out of his backpack.

"You get your best friend drunk." He raises the bottle of Jack high, wearing a wide grin. When he places it down on a rock... It's already half gone. Who knows how long it's been, but long enough that Churro has ended up totally plastered. The pair huddle for warmth beside a steel trash can, flames roaring within.

"Man, she's just one girl. The sea's full of other girls."

"Fish in the sea." Crimson gazes into the fire, its light dancing across his face.

"Maybe it's like not needing your inhaler anymore. Maybe you just can't get drunk. Am I drunk?"

"You're trashed." He sticks out his hand for a fist bump. Nothing comes back.

"Man, I know it stings. But you've gotta remember. As much as a breakup hurts... being alone is even worse. Hold on. That came out wrong. I need another drink." He goes for the bottle again, but a hand snatches it first. Churro backs up, gazing upward in astonishment at a pair of somebodies who stand twenty-two of something. The bigger one is Reddick, a regrettable blend of brawn and hostility toward others. Standing beside him is a troll by the name of Unger.

"Well, well, look at the little bitches getting their drink on." He moves aside while Unger cackles with a grating, giggling laugh. Crimson holds his stare fixed squarely on Reddick.

"Hand it over."

"What was that, little man? Seems he's after a drink." Crimson stays put. Doesn't so much as blink. There's no hint of fear about him. Unger lets out another laugh. Something in his voice carries a chilling steadiness.

"You dragged me out here to get me drunk, Churro. I'm still not drunk." Restless, Reddick throws down a challenge by knocking back a shot. As he sets the bottle down, he studies Crimson with a pleased grin. Yet that grin vanishes the moment he rises to his feet. He comes forward without haste. Deliberate."

"Hand me the bottle. Reddick turns his gaze toward Unger. Yet his companion has stopped laughing. There's something deeply unsettling in how utterly calm Crimson is. Then, just as Reddick lifts the bottle for another drink, he draws nearer and his eyes transform, blazing with a sickly yellow light.

"Give it to me. The bottle. The Jack." Locking eyes with Crimson's yellow stare, Reddick extends the bottle with a slow, trembling hand. Only a few feet away, Churro spots Crimson's right hand, claws unsheathed. His fingers coil, as though ready to slash at Reddick's throat.

"Crimson." In a flash, Crimson's hand shoots out, snatching the bottle of Jack from Reddick's grip, and he spins, hurling it through the air. it crashes into a tree, shattering into a million pieces.