Page 66 of Campfires & Canines
I smile, trying to make a good impression, but it falls off my face when he levels a gun at us.
“Get in the car or I’ll shoot.” The driver’s voice is harsh and grating.
“Not a chance,” Onyx growls.
I gape, my brain going blank at the sight of a pistol pointed at me, or rather, at my friend who has placed himself between me and the danger.
Onyx hisses to me, "Get ready to run into the trees.”
"What?" I grip his shoulder, a wave of dizziness hitting me. Am I still breathing?
To the driver, Onyx snarls, "What are you doing?"
“Hey, stop!” I yelp, tugging Onyx back a step.
For a moment, everything is frozen, but then Onyx's head jerks to the side. Two wolves are approaching from behind us. So much for running.
Snarling, they flank us.
“They won’t shoot you,” Onyx mutters. “As soon as I shift, you need to run.”
Is he going to take on two wolves while someone shoots at him? Are you kidding me?
“No!” I hiss.
“Sorry, babe.” He grins at me, looking like himself again for a split second.
“Get in the car!” the driver yells again.
Onyx shoves me and throws himself towards the wolf blocking my way. He shifts before hitting the ground.
I gasp, stumbling before I get my feet under me and take off sprinting.
A gunshot echoes around me.
Onyx is on the ground, his dark fur glistening red. The two wolves bound after me in flashes of teeth and gray fur.
Paws hit my back and I go down hard. Stones embed into my palms. I’m wrenched up, a large man gripping my upper arm.
My throat is raw from screaming as I’m dragged towards the vehicle.
The driver holds the door open while the naked man climbs in and hauls me into his lap. I screech, flailing and scratching.
The other nude man slides in beside us, grabbing my wrists to restrain me further. They wrest my backpack off. I gulp in the stale, stinking air and almost choke.
Another door slams and we’re reversing. I’m thrown forward and then slammed into my attacker’s bare chest.
The burly man beside me cinches zip ties across both wrists. I try to ram my heel into their shins, but I can’t get any leverage.
As we hit the highway, I realize I can't escape this moving car. The next chance will be when they stop to transfer me eventually. I quiet and stop thrashing, instead sitting stiffly.
I don’t want to be touching these men. I’m going to be sick.
We race down the road and I’m too overwhelmed to tell which direction. Trees blur. Maybe seconds later, maybe an hour, we pull onto a dirt road obscured by the forest, our speed barely lowering.
When we finally screech to a halt, I'm yanked out by my bound wrists. I stumble as soon as my feet hit the ground. The stranger lets me fall into the dirt and I hiss at the pain stabbing my hip and elbow. There’s another black sedan ahead. These men have masks and are dressed in loose black clothing.
Two men grab my arms and drag me towards the car. I hear the others arguing behind me.
