Page 43 of Under A New Moon

Darla blinked, looking around, seeing they were still on the bus. She had been dreaming, and what a sweet dream she had. She softly smiled, nodding her head. "I'm peachy." She pushed herself up, looking outside. She must have been sleeping for a while because they had gotten a ways out of town.

"How long was I out? I didn't even realize how long I was asleep."

Galen shrugged, "I don't know. I was out as long as you were. We were both exhausted. It's been a stressful few days, to say the least."

They were. They both fell asleep as soon as the bus started moving. It was crazy how they had lasted as long as they had.

"How much longer until we get where we need to be?"

Galen thought to himself for a moment, "An hour or two at most. We were so tired we just passed out for most of the ride.”

All of a sudden, a loud bang sound filled the bus. The bus jerked and started to slow down. Galen leaned out the aisle, scowling. "This can't be good."

Darla swallowed, worried as the bus driver got out. They had a flat tire. Shit.

Thirty-Five

Galen

Galen’s arm tightened around her at the sudden explosion of the tire.

Darla stiffened too, though she panned her gaze across the windows near the offending side as if she was calculating in her head.

He recognized the look.

They were already covered in gore and he couldn’t get the stench of the sewers out of his nose. It didn’t help, when he needed to think on his feet. “Is it one of yours?”

She shook her head straight away, her voice barely a murmur. “No. It couldn’t be.

“They’re not going to put civilians in jeopardy. We saw that earlier.”

“Then it’s one of mine,” he says, dread making his tired heart sink. “Damn it. I don’t know how much more of this we can take.”

“We’ll be alright. If we just-”

The screams started from the front, where the worst of the damage had grounded the bus. People were scrambling even as they stood, and they had to push through the throng. Luckily, Galen was a big guy and his mere presence made them yield.

Or maybe it was the blood on his face. Under his nails.

He still tasted dead men in his teeth.

Darla was an insistent one. She didn’t wait for Galen, pressing forward against the frightened crowd, all elbows, and curses. He admired her fun-sized tenacity, and he knew she was one hell of an adversary in combat. She’d proven herself several times over, in the last few days.

That’s when an impact set the bus off-kilter.

Galen grabbed for a stabilizer bar as civilians knocked into him, putting his footing off balance. Darla slipped out of sight but the bus righted itself again and she rolled onto her feet. She was tenacious. “Fuck this,” he heard her mumble, and tried to follow her but his path was blocked by several shrieking humans.

That’s when he spotted the beast outside.

The shifter reared to charge again. It was the biggest one Galen had ever seen, and it was intent on breaking this sardine can wide open. It crashed into the bus, shattering the windows and throwing a claw through to swipe. Several unfortunate humans got caught in its reach, the scent of more blood hitting the air.

He was sick of the smell, already.

Galen steadied himself and stared into the monster’s bloodthirsty yellow eyes. It ceased tearing into the bus when it spotted him, its lips rising in a silent snarl.

Found you, said the look.

Half-formed paws gripped the brutalized sides of the bus as if to rend the thing in half. By now, most of the humans were on the opposite side of the bus, cowering behind him. He’d lost sight of Darla but at least the shifter outside had slowed his assault.

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