Page 39 of Wild Omega

The cabin tilts, and a shadow flitters across the view slit I have along the edge of the driver’s seat. If he looks into the back, or tries to grab his jacket, he’ll see me. I flinch as the door slams shut and a hint of beta fills the air.

“These damn early starts will be the death of me,” the man grumbles, slurping from his disposable coffee cup and clicking his seatbelt in. The truck shivers under me and lurches forward as he puts it in gear, the engine rumble drowning out other noises.

We slow and a beeping sounds. I know from watching his route that the Center has a second set of skip bins on the far end of the building. After emptying those, we’ll face the final boss.

The truck grumbles and air whooshes as he brakes once more. My heart crawls up into my throat, pulsing loudly as he opens his door.

A voice calls out and I duck lower. “Morning, Mark.”

“Hey, Jameson. Haven’t seen you on graveyard shift in a while.”

“Yeah, I was on omega leave. And I’d rather be back there than here at this ungodly hour.”

The driver snorts. “You and me both. Not even a jumbo coffee is hitting the spot. Let’s get this over with.”

“Yep.”

Metal screeches as the security guard opens the access window to peer into the trash compartment. You’d have to be insane to hide in there with compactors that could pop a person like a grape. It was one thing to watch from a window as the security guard checked the truck over, but it’s entirely different sweating under a jacket, curled up like a contortionist. One whiff of my omega scent and this escape will be all over before my adventure even begins.

The additional voice comes from close by. “Sorry to hold you up, but you know how it is.”

“Yeah, man, I know. Gives me a moment to drink my liquid addiction.”

The guard snorts, and I swear he’s looking in the cab. I hold my breath. “Not hiding an omega in here, are you?”

I squeeze my eyes shut, not daring to even cross my fingers again.

The driver scoffs. “My wife would have a fit if I got omega scent on me. The trash is bad enough.”

More laughter, and then the engine grinds and the truck jerks forward. Pins and needles dance through my foot and I grit my teeth. This is going to be one long-ass morning. But worth it to be free. I press my teeth into my lower lip as relief floods through me. It’s not over, but I’m so close now. I just need to survive being cramped like a sardine in a tin.

Determination aside, I’m ready to cry from the pain in my body by the time the driver pulls into a depot for what I assume is a piss break, judging by the way his leg’s been shaking up and down for the past twenty minutes. The jacket rustles as I peek out from under it and crane my neck to look through the windshield. Garbage trucks hulk in rows around a double-story tin shed, and workers dot the yard, refueling or cleaning the trucks.

It takes a couple of tries to work out how to open the big door, and I wince as my locked-up muscles complain. Last minute, I decide to take the driver’s jacket with me. As I jump off the bottom step, my legs give way and I plop onto my knees, dwarfed by the giant black wheels. Asphalt bites into my palms as I scrabble to move, grabbing the wheel arch to haul myself upright.

Adrenaline ices over my veins as I hear footsteps crunching on the ground. It’s all the motivation I need to take off around the back of the truck. I stagger a little as my head spins, but I can’t stop now. The voices in my mind sound clearer than ever, or at least some of them do. I slow as I spot the open chain link gates, but my heart rate doesn’t get the memo until I’ve walked clear of the industrial yard and I’m half a block away.

I grin. Red Hawk flies again.

Now I just need to figure out where I’m going to stay.

Chapter sixteen

Zazu

Everything has changed. Strong men like me replaced theotherswith their biting sticks, but they still dragged us into the swaying metal cave and deposited us in a different stone home. Strange light pours in through windows, biting at my eyes in regular cycles. That’s the major difference between my old territory and this one.

Except for the fact this place is packed with so many men like me I can barely breathe.

All combined, the scents drive me a little wilder every day, and I pace my cage, snarling. The others all feel the same way, but the superior and the one who promises death sink into bitter fury. The upset steaming off them only makes me more furious.

I’ve spent endless days primed to attack all intruders, but now that every inch of this cave fills with them, I can’t do anything about it. My voice comes out as a rough, gasping bark from all the growling I’ve done. My head throbs with flashes that blind me if I move too fast, and an unfamiliar chatter behind my eyes warns I can’t stay here.

It’s enough to make a dog snap—only it’s not me who’s breaking first.

The hairs on my arms stand on end as the handlers approach the fighter who smells of death. He never speaks but the way his scent slowly burned darker over the past few days warns me to keep my distance. I shrink into the corner, brushing against sticky white strands that tiny creatures weave during the dark cycle.

But the men don’t catch the warning signal as they gear up to take Death to the washroom. “Fuck, I can’t wait to get home to my pack. One of the guys is about to rut.”

---