The Gathering dr-1

by Kelley Armstrong

  He turned it again and again, twisting it back and forth, then letting go, slamming his palms against the steering wheel.

  I opened my door. “We’ll walk. The fire can’t be that close—”

  “No. Just hold on.” He took a deep breath, then tried again, calmer now.

  My dad always said that when the wildlife started to flee, it was time to take cover. By that point, you can’t outrun it on foot.

  On the second twist, the engine caught, faltered, then roared to life. Daniel nodded, slammed it into drive, hit the gas and …

  The tires spun.

  “No way. No goddamn way.”

  He threw open the door. “Slide over. When I yell, hit the gas.”

  He pushed. I accelerated. The tires spun, refusing to take hold. Ash settled on the hood. I hit the gas harder. Finally, the truck jolted from the rut and sped forward. I hit the brakes.

  “No!” Daniel yelled. “Keep her rolling.”

  I glanced in the mirrors to see him racing along the side of the truck. He grabbed the door and yanked it open. I turned my attention back to the road. Daniel swung in, then slammed the door shut and collapsed in the passenger seat, panting.

  “Always wanted to do that, haven’t you?” I said.

  He laughed and struggled to catch his breath. Ash frosted his hair and shoulders.

  “Just keep going,” he said. “It’s rough, and if you slow down, she’ll get stuck again.”

  Rough was right. I hadn’t noticed it as a passenger, but now I felt every jerk, every roll. Another deer raced past us. Then a fox, so panicked it almost ran under the wheels. The animals were heading toward town. That meant the fire was in the other direction. Good.

  When we reached the road, I could see a wall of smoke over the distant treetops.

  “I see it,” Daniel said, before I could speak. His voice was low, and calm now. “Do you want me to take over?”

  I shook my head and hit the gas, driving as fast as I dared on the winding road.

  The ash stopped falling. When I looked in the rearview mirror, though, I could still see the smoke.

  “How can it be coming in so fast?” I said.

  “You know the saying. Spreads like wildfire.”

  “Sure, but this seems too fast.”

  He shrugged. It didn’t matter. Just get to safety. As I drove, Daniel checked his cell phone.

  “Still no service?” I said.

  “Don’t worry about it. We’ll be there in—”

  A huge shape leaped from the bushes. I hit the brakes as Daniel shouted “Don’t swerve!” I knew better—out here you learned that lesson as soon as you got behind the wheel. Then I realized it was a massive Roosevelt elk, its antlers nearly as wide as the windshield.

  “Duck!” I said.

  I hit the brakes as hard as I could and steered to the right, away from the elk. The rule “don’t swerve” doesn’t apply with a creature that big. We ducked—another tactic we’d been taught, though elk herds rarely ventured this far east. When an elk hits a car, it’ll crush the roof—and you under it.

  A thump as the truck hit the animal, but it was a glancing blow and the elk only stumbled, then—

  Crash!

  Something hit my door. Then a doe scrambled right over the hood.

  “They’re running into the truck!” Daniel shouted. “Drive!”

  I hit the gas. Another thud. I looked over to see the huge elk charging. Its antlers hit and the truck rocked, threatening to tip right over. The animal backed up. Its eyes rolled in rage and panic. It charged the door again. The glass smashed. Daniel grabbed me, but I was caught in my seat belt. He fumbled with it as I braced for the next blow.

  Calm down, I thought. Please, please, please, calm down.

  The elk hit the door but seemed to check itself at the last second. It snorted. Hot air blasted through the window. I could smell the beast, smell its panic. It backed away, head lowering, those huge antlers swinging through the window, one prong brushing my cheek as I ducked.

  Just calm down. Please calm down.

  “Got it!” Daniel said.

  The seat belt flew loose and he grabbed me as the elk charged again.

  “Hang on!” Daniel shouted.

  I clutched the steering wheel, but at the last second, the elk swerved. Then it stood there, sides heaving, looking faintly confused, as if it had forgotten what it was doing.

  Daniel threw open the passenger door, and we tumbled onto the road. The elk snorted again and nudged the truck. It rocked. I scrambled out of the way, tugging Daniel after me.

  “Hey!” someone shouted.

  I caught the distant pounding of footsteps.

  “Hey! Yeah, you! Get out of here!”

  I knew that voice. Knew it, but couldn’t believe I was hearing it.

  I turned to see Rafe running toward the elk, waving his arms. The rest of the herd stood on the side of the road, milling about in confusion, waiting for their leader.

  “Go on!” Rafe shouted. “Move it!”

  The elk snorted. Then, with a dismissive flip of its tail, it bounded across the road and into the forest. The herd followed.

  I tried to stand, but Daniel made me sit on the ground as he checked me out. He squeezed my shoulder and I winced.

  “Just bruised,” I said. “I can walk.”

  Rafe jogged over to us. “She was driving? Is she okay?”

  “Yes, she is,” I said, getting to my feet. I looked behind him. “Where’s Annie?”

  “She—” Rafe stopped and looked at Daniel.

  “Took off?” I said. “Like she does sometimes?”

  He nodded. “We set out this morning, but we didn’t get far before she …”

  “Ran away,” I finished.

  A glance at Daniel, then he went on. “Right. I sat down to wait. She comes back when she’s done, and there’s nothing else I can do until then. This time, though, she was gone longer than usual. I started getting worried, so I left our packs and headed down the path. That’s when I smelled the smoke. I’ve been looking for her. I heard the crashing, came out to the road, and saw you guys.”

  Daniel anxiously eyed the smoky horizon as Rafe explained. He tried to start the truck, but it was too badly damaged.

  “We have to go,” he said. “That fire’s coming fast.”

  Rafe shook his head. “Go on. I need to find her. She’s probably just back at the cabin—”

  “She’s not,” I said. “We just left there.”

  He rocked on the balls of his feet and I could tell he’d barely heard me.

  I grabbed his arm. “Rafe.”

  “What?”

  I lowered my voice as I pulled him away from Daniel. “She’s a cat, right? She thinks like a cat now. She’ll do what every other animal is doing—running away from the fire. We’ll cut through the forest and try to find her on our way back to town.”

  He nodded. “I’ll do that. You guys go on. The road’s faster.”

  “If Annie’s out there, I’ll help.”

  “We’ll help,” Daniel said as he walked over. “Now let’s move it.”

  We split up, staying within shouting range. Daniel veered off first. Rafe came over to me after Daniel was gone.

  “You didn’t tell him, right?” he said.

  “No.” Not yet, I thought. I was sure he’d insist that I never tell Daniel, and I had every intention of doing so, as soon as we were out of this mess. “If he sees her in cat form, he’ll say something to warn us. If that happens, we’ll … figure something out. But we’ll find Annie. One way or another, we’ll find her.”

  Maybe I’d been driving fast enough to put some decent distance between us and the flames. Or maybe the fire had shifted direction or hit a firebreak. Whatever the reason, as we searched we weren’t running for our lives with flames licking at our heels.

  We could smell it, and ash flakes still drifted down, so we moved at a steady jog, a few hundred feet apart, calling for Annie as we made our way
to town.

  Like us, the wildlife was on the move but not as panicked about it. I saw families of raccoons and a small herd of black-tailed deer making their way steadfastly toward town. When I caught a glimpse of tawny fur slinking through the underbrush, I picked up speed. Both guys ran over just as the cougar appeared around a hemlock and glanced over at me. Then I saw the grizzled fur and torn ear and let out a sigh.

  “Marv.”

  He stopped and chirped.

  “Go on,” I said. “Find someplace safe.”

  Another chirp, like he understood, and he took off at a lope into the forest.

  We’d gone about another twenty feet when a crashing in the trees had us all jumping. Something was running our way. Something big enough to make the saplings shake and the dead undergrowth crackle like gunfire.

  “Bear!” I shouted.

  THIRTY-FIVE

  I GRABBED THE BOTTOM branch of the nearest big tree and swung up. Daniel followed. As I crouched on the branch, I looked for Rafe and found him where I’d last seen him, just standing there with this weird look on his face, like he wanted to run but couldn’t. He glowered at the bear and his expression wasn’t shock or fear. It was defiance.

  “Rafe!” I screamed.

  That snapped him out of it. He blinked and saw the forest flattening in a path heading straight for him. His lips formed a curse and he backpedaled. The bear shot up from the brush, rising on two legs with a roar.

  It was just a black bear. I say “just” because we do get the odd report of grizzlies swimming across from the mainland, and that’s a whole other level of predator. A black bear is no harmless teddy though, especially Vancouver Island black bears. When this guy reared up, he was taller than Rafe and twice as heavy.

  “Go away!” I shouted. “Shoo!”

  Daniel whistled and clapped. Usually that’s enough to get rid of them, but this one just stood there, snarling and waving his front paws, huge claws flashing. Enraged by the smell of fire or the smell of another predator, he wasn’t leaving.

  Rafe glanced over his shoulder, looking for a closer tree, but nothing nearby would support his weight.

  “Back up toward us,” I said. “Keep eye contact, and don’t turn around.”

  He nodded, impatient. He knew that. It was hard to remember he wasn’t the city boy he pretended to be.

  The moment he started retreating, the bear roared again, dropped to all fours, and charged. Rafe did turn his back then—to run for the tree. As the gap between Rafe and the bear narrowed, Daniel jumped to the ground, waving his arms.

  “Hey!” Daniel shouted as he raced for the next big tree. “Over here. Come on!”

  But the bear kept charging Rafe, tiny eyes blazing with rage. The overwhelming scent of musk filled my nose, making my brain shout mixed messages—to run, to stand firm, to help Rafe.

  Then I remembered the elk.

  Power over animals.

  I closed my eyes and concentrated, telling the bear to relax, that everything was fine; we weren’t a threat; he had to leave, get away from the fire. But the ground kept quaking, and when I opened my eyes, the bear was right behind Rafe. The bear snarled and snapped, but Rafe shot ahead just in time.

  I bent down to grab Rafe’s hand. He waved me back, and with a flying leap, caught the bottom branch in both hands and swung up. The bear hit the trunk and I lost my balance. Rafe grabbed the back of my jacket and hauled me up, flailing, until I could grasp the branch again.

  “Climb!” he shouted.

  The bear backed away, shaking his shaggy head, dazed by the impact. He looked at me, and I froze and I knew then what had stopped Rafe from running. When the bear met my gaze, any thoughts of escape vanished. Instinct said to fight. This was my territory, and no bear was going to take it from me. Stand firm and—

  “Maya!” Rafe grabbed my jacket again and nearly yanked me off the branch. “Climb!”

  That snapped me out of it, and when I looked down now, all I saw was a very big, very pissed off bear.

  As I scrambled up, pain ripped through my foot, and something wrenched my leg. I looked down to see the bear’s jaws clamped around my shoe. Daniel was running toward the bear, shouting and waving his arms. Rafe grabbed me under the armpits and yanked. My shoe came off in the bear’s mouth as Rafe hauled me up to the next branch.

  The bear shook my shoe, growling, then tossed it aside. As it did, it noticed Daniel, standing only a few feet away.

  “Daniel!” I shouted.

  He backed up, looking for a suitable tree. The bear only snorted at him, then peered nearsightedly up at us. It rose on its hind legs, front paws hitting the trunk hard enough to make the tree quiver.

  I swung onto the next branch as Rafe did the same on the other side. I felt the bear’s hot breath on my stockinged foot and snatched it away as his teeth clicked together. He roared in frustration, then leaned on the tree and shook it again.

  “Hold on!” Rafe shouted, like I was planning on doing anything else.

  I clung to the tree, arms around the trunk, as it swayed. The bear swiped at us, but we were well out of reach. After a moment, he figured that out and backed down onto all fours. He eyed us for another moment, then, with a snort, lumbered into the forest.

  “You okay?” Rafe said when the bear was gone.

  I sat on a branch and pulled my foot up. My sock was ripped, but the bear’s teeth hadn’t broken the skin. I squeezed my foot and winced.

  “Just bruised,” I said.

  “Maya?” Daniel called.

  I tried to see him but couldn’t through the thick evergreens.

  “We’re fine!” I yelled. “You?”

  He said he was all right, and I was about to climb down, when Rafe climbed over to my branch and crouched there.

  “Seems that control-over-animals thing doesn’t work so well with the animals we really need control over.”

  “No kidding, huh?” I said.

  His head tilted as he scanned the forest. When he glanced back at me, I thought he was going to say something, but he only nodded toward the ground and said, “We should go. Fire’s still coming. I can smell it.”

  I twisted to kneel on the branch, so I could lower myself to the next one. As I did, I glanced up and realized we were in the biggest tree around. Which gave me an idea.

  “I’m going higher first,” I said, “to look around for Annie.”

  “Good idea.”

  I called down to Daniel to say what we were doing. Rafe was already two branches above me. I scrambled up after him. The faster I went, the faster he did, and I thought it was just coincidence until he grinned down at me.

  My heart sped up and I raced after him, trying to catch up, cursing when I couldn’t. I forgot about Annie and the fire and the bear, and everything that happened before that—and it was just us again, climbing a tree, the bark rough under my hands, the sharp smell of pines surrounding me, the sound of his breathing pulsing through the air like a heartbeat. I didn’t even notice I’d caught up until I was right beside him and he was leaning around the tree, smiling at me.

  “Gotcha,” I said.

  “Uh, no. I stopped.”

  He waved overhead and I realized we were as high as we could safely go.

  “Damn,” I said.

  He laughed and I looked into his eyes, then swallowed hard and turned away to look for Annie. As I did, my hip bumped the trunk and something jabbed into my hip. I pulled out his bracelet.

  “You’d better take this,” I said.

  He shook his head. “I still need to take off, track down answers. Keep it.”

  “But it’s important to you.”

  “Proving I mean it when I say I’ll be back.”

  My cheeks heated and I pressed it into his hand. “Please. I don’t want to lose it.”

  He took it. Before I could pull my hand back, he caught my wrist and tied the bracelet around it.

  “Problem solved.”

  I tried to glance down at it, but hi
s fingers slid under my chin, eyes closing as his mouth moved toward mine. Our lips brushed. Then his eyes snapped open and he pulled back fast.

  I jerked away. “Right. Bad idea. We—”

  “No.” He pointed. “That.”

  I twisted to see a wall of smoke heading straight for us. Rafe started scrambling down the tree, shouting to Daniel below. I stayed where I was and got my first good look at the fire. To the north and south, the forest was clear and calm. There was just one huge swath of smoke heading our way.

  “Maya!” Rafe tugged at my foot. “Come on.”

  I took one last look, making sure I was seeing right. One patch of fire heading straight for Salmon Creek. That didn’t seem natural.

  Rafe yanked again, but I was already coming down, calling for Annie as I did. There was no sign of her. Gone to safe ground. Or so I hoped.

  Once my shoe was back on, we ran. Within minutes, the ash began to rain down again. We kept calling for Annie, staying close together now, running full out toward town.

  Rafe heard the sound of an engine first and shouted, “Someone’s coming. Where’s the road?”

  I waved to the north, but Daniel shook his head.

  “We’re too far from it,” he said. “We should be almost in town now.”

  In other words, no time—or need—to detour. A few strides later, though, we hit a strip of empty land.

  “Road!” Rafe yelled. “It’ll be quicker than running through the forest.”

  It used to be a road, back when our town was just an empty space for logging camps. Then the St. Clouds came and the loggers left, and this road no longer led anywhere. The forest had crept in on either side, weeds stubbornly poking through the packed earth. But the diesel fumes I was smelling weren’t fifteen years old.

  As we stepped onto the winding road, I noticed a truck going the other way, barely visible through the trees.

  Daniel followed my gaze. “We’d never catch it. It’s heading away from town, anyway.”

  “But why? There’s nothing over there.”

  “Doesn’t matter. Just keep moving.”

  We’d just rounded the next curve when I heard the rumble of an engine behind us. I turned to see the truck heading back our way.

  “They must have spotted us.” Rafe started to lift his hand.