The uneven road jostles the whole vehicle and has me slamming back and forth between the sides of the cage, sending painful jolts through my shoulders as they ram into the metal. I grit my teeth and curl into a ball, trying to get my center of balance—as useless as it currently is—low enough that I can minimize the number of impacts I have to suffer.
There’s no way to tell where we are since I can’t see anything from back here, but the jerky, lurching movement of the truck and the dust filtering in through the gaps in the canvas leads meto believe we’re on a dirt road. Could it be the fire road Smith and Yang mentioned?
I can only hope, right?
If we’re on the fire road, then Smith and Yang will be somewhere along its length, hopefully in a position to intercept my captors and get me free.
Unfortunately, I can’tdependon that. Yes, there’s a very good chance Smith and Yang are somewhere up ahead, but I can’t just sit here and wait for them. I don’t know for sure what’s going on, and Ollie’s in danger, so I’m going to hope for the best and prepare for the worst.
Not that I have any idea what I can do while collared and locked in a cage. Ollie spent years in a cage like this and the only reason he got out is because one of the humans was stupid enough to leave the cage door open. As much as I hate to admit it, the humans have probably learned from their mistakes.
A particularly jarring bump pulls a yelp from my mouth, and the truck jolts to a stop. After a brief discussion in the cab, someone hops out and walks around the back of the vehicle. The canvas flap jerks back, allowing a shaft of light into the back and searing into my eyes.
“Everything’s still secure,” the male human glancing in at me calls out. “But the animal is awake already.”
Another human from the cab grumbles and gets out to walk around the back and peer in at me. The woman from Doc’s house makes an annoyed noise and shakes her head.
“The sedative effect should have lasted much longer.” She presses her lips together, eyes narrowing on my face. “I guess it doesn’t matter, though. It’s not much further to the highway and once we’re out of this territory, no one’s going to bother us.”
The man beside her nods. “Sound good, then. Should we get going?”
“Yes, and it might not hurt to speed up a bit.”
When the vehicle begins moving again, the rattling and shaking is ten times worse, the road obviously not meant to be driven at this kind of speed—or any kind of speed really. The only thing saving me from being thrown all over the back of the truck is the fact that the cage is tied down to the bed. The ties do nothing to stop me from being tossed around inside the cage though.
I brace myself as best I can and try to move with the jolts and bumps. The last thing I need is to get injured back here. If a chance to escape comes up, I need to be able to take it.
The noisy, jarring hell continues for another ten minutes or so before a sudden deceleration slams me into the side of the side of the cage.Again.
Now what? They already know I’m awake, so they aren’t stopping because of me this time.
No one gets out of the cab, but I can hear the humans debating about something blocking the road.
“Just ram it,” says the woman’s voice. “Push it out of the way.”
“Er, ma'am? The space is too narrow,” replies one of the men. “There’s no place for it to go.”
“Well, it wasn’t here when we came in, so there’s got to be something we can do,” she snaps back. “Fucking figure it out.”
The man mutters something that sounds uncomplimentary under his breath, but the truck’s engine revs and the vehicle jerks forward, smashing into something with the sound of crumpling metal.
“Try again,” says the woman.
“All that’s happening is the damn thing’s getting wedged between those trees,” argues the second man.
But the driver backs up and rams the obstacle again anyway, a loud screeching sound making me wince.
“This isn’t working,” says the first man, his voice strained. “We’re going to have to back up and see if we can find a way around.”
“Go see if the keys are in it,” says the woman. “Then we can just drive the damn car out of our way.”
The obstacle is avehicle? Maybe even a certain dark blue SUV crossover Yang was driving?
I perk up, lifting my nose to scent the air. The dust makes it difficult, but I catch a faint smell hidden underneath—shifters. Two of them. The scent is too muddled for me to definitively identify them as Smith and Yang, but if I were human right now, I’d be grinning.
A twig cracks somewhere next to the truck and from the other side, there’s a sharp bark.
“Go see what that was,” says the woman in the cab.
