Page 13 of Zeke
"We need to get to higher ground!" she screamed over the storm. "NOW!"
The ferals were still snarling at each other, still caught up in their territorial dispute. They didn't understand. They didn't know what was coming. But finally, her screams got their attention.
"The water!" She pointed uphill, where the first muddy torrents began to snake between the trees. "It's going to kill us all!"
Scarface looked where she was pointing, and his face went white. The newcomer spun around as well, and his eyes widened at the approaching wall of brown water.
"RUN!"
The word exploded from multiple throats at once. The territorial dispute evaporated as survival instincts kicked in. Hands grabbed at her… not fighting over her now, but hauling her uphill. She didn't fight their hold. She needed them right now. There was no way she could outrun the flood on her own.
The roar drowned out everything else. Behind them, trees cracked like gunshots before crashing down. The ground bucked under their feet as water tore through the forest, ripping new paths between the rocks behind them and carrying away everything in its path.
"There!" The newcomer pointed to a rocky outcrop about fifty yards uphill. "The rocks!"
Tank threw her over his shoulder, and she clung on for dear life. The cold air cut into her chest with each gasping breath. Behind them, the flood was gaining ground, a brown wall of destruction that devoured everything in its path.
One of the new group—a younger feral with fewer scars—stumbled. He went down hard, his ankle twisting with a wet crack that she heard even over the roar of water.
"Help!" he screamed, reaching toward them as he tried to crawl up the muddy slope on his hands and knees.
The other feral leader spun back toward his fallen packmate, but the water was already there. It slammed into the injured feral, picking him up and hurling him downstream like he weighed nothing. Arms and legs flailed as he fought the current. His head broke the surface once, maybe twenty yards down, mouth open in a scream she couldn't hear over the roar. Then a tree trunk the size of a freight car rolled right over him. Nothing came back up.
"No!" The new feral leader started after him, but one of his group grabbed his arm and hauled him back.
"Gone! Move!"
Twitchy's feet went out from under him on the muddy slope. He hit hard, fingers clawing at the wet earth. The soil turned to mush in his hands, giving him nothing to grip. Water wrapped around his legs and started dragging him back toward the torrent.
Twitchy thrashed against the current, his red eyes blown wide. For a second, it looked like he might pull it off. His fingers locked around a root, and he dragged himself halfway up the bank.
Then a tree trunk slammed into him. The impact punched him back under the water. When the debris cleared, there was nothing but brown water churning where he'd been.
They hit the edge of the rocky outcrop just as the water slammed into the area where they'd been standing. She dropped against the wet stone, chest heaving. Her leg felt like someone was driving nails through the bone. She twisted around to look back at the destruction.
Below them, the forest had become a raging river. Nothing could survive down there.
4
The wind ripped through the valley, carrying the sharp scent of rain and something else—ozone, like the air before lightning. Zeke picked his way over the rocky ground, following the dark spots that marked Michelle's trail. His thin shirt offered no protection from the cold, but his metabolism ran hot enough that it didn't matter.
Raaze was another story. The feral kept his arms folded tight across his chest, shivering when he thought no one was looking.
"Storm's moving wrong," Kraath said, his pale eyes tracking the dark clouds rolling in from the north. The commander's jaw was tight, his usual measured calm showing cracks of concern. "This isn't natural."
He was right. Yesterday had been mild, typical for this season. Now the temperature was plummeting toward freezing, and the clouds overhead had a strange, roiling quality that made Zeke's skin crawl. The massive trees that dominated the valley swayed in the wind, their purple-gray bark slick with moisture.
He crouched beside the next blood spot, studying its shape against the pale stone. The droplet was round, its edges clean despite the wind that should have scattered it. Too deliberate. Too controlled.
"She's doing this on purpose. Hurting herself to leave us a trail."
The knowledge sat in his chest like a burning coal, equal parts fury and admiration. It was draanthing brilliant, the one thing he could track no matter what. But if she was bleeding, she was hurt, and every cell in his body filled with fury at the thought.
"Smart human," Raaze said. "Assuming she doesn't bleed out first."
Heat flashed through Zeke's system, rage building like pressure behind a dam. The urge to grab Raaze by the throat was almost overwhelming. He took a slow breath, then another, counting each inhale and exhale until the red edge receded from his vision.
Control. Michelle needs you in control.
