JERICHO
Iignore everyone as I crash through the front door, hands fisted at my sides in frustration. Murmured voices linger behind, asking about Justice’s fate. I don’t have the heart to tell them the truth, the guilt of failure a vicious coil in the pit of my stomach.
My booted feet barely touch the wood porch as I fly down the stairs, my tangled hair whipping in the air behind me. Without glancing back, I take off through the trees. Past the creek, across the highway, and over the ridge. I have no direction in mind. Just go. I need to go. I need to get out of here. If I stop, it will all be real.
If I stop, Justice will be dead.
If I stop…
I can’t stop.
Raw, uncontrollable energy courses through me like it never has before. My hair prickles with awareness, taking in every cue. Every imperceptible movement. My ears burn with sudden clarity, and my vision becomes clearer.
The predator in me is awake.
A cold, tight sensation creeps over my skin, numbing me to my surroundings. I become cold, yet my throat… my throat is on fire.
I must hunt.
“Jericho!”
Halting in my tracks, I whip around. I’m a mile away, yet somehow that voice is as clear as day.
It’s a voice I’d know anywhere.
My fangs descend. Blood. Warm blood.
Go.
Drink.
“Jericho!” Evan calls again, his voice hoarse with worry.
I must leave. Must run. I cannot hurt Evan. I won’t.
Desperation claws at my insides, the yearning for fresh blood a life beast ripping me apart from within, yet I don’t let myself move. If I move, I’ll hunt. If I move, Evan…
Evan, Evan, Evan!
Go.
Drink.
I tune in to my surroundings, if only to drown out Evan’s addicting voice. Birds chitter above as two bunnies hop quickly to their dens, their ears back as if sensing danger. They do not know that I’m the danger.
A fox sniffles in the dirt, and beyond it, by the clearing, something large drinks from the river. I can hear the steady laps, the full swallows. It makes me lick my parched lips.
Go.
Drink.
I close my eyes and inhale deep, trying to identify the creature. Deer. No, wait. Elk. My mouth waters.
Crouching, I follow the sound and peer through a barren blackberry bush. The full-grown female elk is less than fifty feet away, standingtaller than me at the head and weighing at least four times my body weight. It doesn’t matter. She would be a feather in my grasp.
And she’s alone. No one to help her. No one to protect her, just as I have no one to protect me.
No. That's not true. I have Evan.
