“No. Stick to the route. Maybe they’re just keeping tabs for now.” Meadow at least seems surer, and I’m glad I’m not the only one who is a little freaked out about our escorts appearing as we discussed them. How did they even know? This has to be connected to the witch, and the fates must be playing along. It’s all too coincidental!
“Sierra said she’s powerful, right?…. Witches can be seers. Maybe she knows. Maybe she already knows we’re here and looking for her?” I query and clasp Meadow’s hand unsurely, nerves hitching in my chest. My breathing labored as my palms clam up, and I stiffen. I catch Carmen out of the corner of my eye, taking a steadying deep breath to reel her emotions back to calm. Anxiety fills the air around us as we all fall somber now that we’re faced with the possible next step of our task. So much is resting on us finding her, and I can only pray she is as approachable and willing to help as Sierra thinks she is.
“Guess we’ll find out soon enough, Chicas. I hope Sierra is right; this is a friend, not a foe. Else we drove ourselves hundreds of miles just to become crow food.” Meadow doesn’t seem so sure now either, and I know the witchy side of Sierra and Colton is still something she isn’t sure of. She admitted to me a while back it unnerves her and makes her mistrustful on some level. She gets nervous around this power and these abilities when they glow blue because it’s not something she had ever lived around, even before she came to the mountain. It’s sweet in a funny kind of way, but I get it. She relies on the physical attributes and her steady, strong wolf self. Magical, almost mystical powers freak her out.
Carmen gasps and jolts us slightly with a swerve as a huge black raven drops right out of the sky without warning and almost collides with our windshield at our speed. She slams on the brakes impulsively, gritting her teeth and clenching the wheel, throwing us forward in her emergency stop that almost ends with my face bashing the dash and saving the shield from eating crow ass by mere millimeters. The damn thing casually lands on the bonnet, turns to us, and pecks the glass nonchalantly before flying to our right and taking off again in some snarky, sassy, crow manner that screams of smug attitude. The little asshole practically smiled at us!
We all turn, bug-eyed, mouths gawping, and watch where it goes and then crap ourselves and almost die of simultaneous heart attacks. Squealing in unison like feeble girls, the entire flock of black ravens shoots right across the truck like a black swipe. Skimming the roof, blocking out the light and windshield, we’re drowned out by a bizarre loud noise of beating wings and zooming air, impossible to ignore.
Visually we follow it to the right, exposing a grimy, overgrown, and barely visible dirt road between unkempt trees. Almost obediently, we all crane our necks to stare at the dense undergrowth in stunned silence. Poised and watching as we all attempt to calm our breathing and ponder what this just meant.
“I think we follow the birds now?” Meadow points out, clutching her chest and fanning her face to recover from the heart failure we all experienced. “Those damn birds, I swear if I catch one, I’ll wring its scrawny neck for scaring us like that.”
“I don’t wanna,” I whine, all my senses on edge, and now I’m the one freaking out with the insane animal behavior that almost made us crash.
“You come all this way to chicken out now? What kind of Luna are you?” Carmen smirks at me, seemingly much braver than I am, and throws the wheel to the right as she puts the pedal to the gas again, pushing us on to follow the dirt track. She slows right down as we inch onto the overgrown road that might not be great for a heavy, slow truck with crap suspension. We start to bounce and sway over the uneven terrain as she crawls us slowly, and the truck groans and crunches in protest at having to mount grass.
“It’s okay. We’re safe in here, remember. The rune symbols!” Meadow tries to ease my worry, catching my hand in hers and squeezing it reassuringly as I reach out and grab hold of the dash to steady myself while I gawp at her.
“It’s HER spell. She wrote it! … I’m sure it doesn’t do shit when it’s up against her.” I point out sternly, fear lacing my tone with hostility, and even Carmen gawps at me this time. Her eyes widen before she moves to that familiar eye roll and exhales haughtily.
“For the love of God. Who arms themselves with magical safety nets sewn together by the person they are about to drop in on and might not be happy about it? … We do, that’s who. Masters of intelligence here! Why did I ever agree to this?” She scoffs, snorting at how stupid this plan seems to be, as she slows down further to hit the rough and rocky road under the overgrown grass, and the truck starts swaying so wildly that it’s impossible to hold on. Getting harder to inch forward as the wheels catch in ditches and spin before kicking us back out amid a spray of flying mud.
“I don’t want to be the one to say this, but….” Carmen starts, and Meadow finishes
“We have to go on foot. We can’t risk the truck getting stuck here. We have to go back at some point, so we need this.”
“Really?” I spin on her and raise my palms in shocked panic, my voice three decibels higher as my heart suffers a spasm of crazy beats. “Why can’t we find a place to wait out the night? It’s getting dark! Who knows how far down this path we must trek and then still find her and return? This doesn’t seem smart, brave, or needed…. or something Colton would ever approve of!” I practically wail it at her. I know I’m the Luna, but with all things tactical, Meadow is the one I trust most to decide on a course of action. Colton made her his beta for a reason, but seriously though, right now, I wonder about the sanity of this Chica. I may have once killed a bear and trekked alone for weeks, but that was before I became tired, pampered, and scared of fog spells and lurking witches! Plus, I was always overly cautious!
“We can hyper-speed, get as far as we can, and if it looks like the birds are taking us further and it’s getting dark, we come back and call it off until morning. It’s not like we’re incapable of holding off a vamp or two. We are badass bitches, Chica. We can hold our own for a short stretch of running.” Meadow seems amused by my reluctance, talking to me like I’m her child and squeezing my hand as though coaxing a toddler. I glare at her and try hard to remind myself that I am the one who’s meant to be in charge here. Braver, fiercer, and I need to stop wussing out.
“Ughhhhh, can we just go? Sitting here isn’t doing anything!” It’s Carmen this time, also looking at me like she’s disappointed in my fear, and I screw my eyes shut to calm my racing heart and nod.
“Okay…. But if it feels wrong, or it gets too dark….” I plead, and Meadow nods before I finish whispering shaky demands.
“I know, okay. I don’t plan on being reckless. I plan on us getting home in one piece to break that damn curse. Stay alert. If it feels wrong, we come back. I promised Cole I would always protect you, and I don’t want to disappoint him.” The softness in her eyes, the appearance of mist adding shine as emotion makes her voice tremble, almost ends me. My heart swells with the mention of him and the genuine love I see on her face.
“Right. I’ll go first. It’s not like I have anything to go home for.” Carmen jumps out without hesitation, not waiting for my permission like it even matters, and we follow using our own door. I feel like I’m dragging a dead weight after sitting for so many hours, and my apprehension isn’t exactly making me limber on my feet.
Meadow locks the truck with the keys Carmen hands off, and we turn and stare at the trees where the birds seem to be patiently waiting on us. It’s unnerving, and they are all quietly staring, all forty of them. Like miniature models of fake birds, with that one larger, especially jet black one, in the center and looking like maybe he’s the leader of the bird crew. That little asshole who scared us half to death. I have my eye on that one for sure.
“You ever seen that movie, Birds?” Carmen flippantly asks before swiping up a long blade of grass and wandering ahead as though this is a casual ramble in the woods between friends. She picks out a path to lead, and we shift and walk behind her, intrigued by this sudden pop quiz of movies.
“No, what happens?” I ask innocently, aware Meadow is right behind me as we walk in a line, and she’s checking behind us every few steps, on high alert and watching for any possible danger.
“They kill and eat people in flocks much like that… peck out their eyes, brains…. organs… it’s kinda gross. Evil little bastards.” She shrugs again with a deadpan tone of indifference, and I gawp at her back and seriously wonder what kind of wrong goes on in this girl’s head.
“Way to make us all feel at ease, Puta!” Meadow chirps in, a tone of ‘really?’ while pushing me to walk faster with a little lumber shove, and Carmen almost gets run over as we start to pick up speed.
“Just saying, watch the little shitheads. Never turn your back on a flock of angry birds.” She seems to delight in raising my blood pressure to the highest level possible, and Meds shakes her head at her, a low growl of ‘shut up’ wavering subtly.
“Yeah, well, I doubt birds really affect angry werewolves. Now run… we ain’t got all day.” She snaps at her, trying to end this conversation, and I get another aggressive jab to my spine to hurry me onward. I eyeroll at Meadow’s sudden pushiness and throw her back a snarky glare to tell her to be less handsy but still obey.
Carmen breaks into a run as commanded, then stops abruptly, and I collide painfully, right into her back and Meadow into me. Letting out muffled cries and protests as we tumble into an ungraceful heap. Falling over one another clumsily and then groan as I scrape my palm and knee on the rough terrain.
“What the hell.” I whimper and pull a stray thorn out of my finger, casting an angry, narrowed frown at Carmen for her stupid halt.
“Meadow, ravens can’t hyper-speed, and we are following them…” she points out with that superior tone that I know will make Meadow want to punch her in the throat, and I throw Meadow back an ‘oh, she has a point’ kind of look. There goes her fast run plan and getting there and back at speed. I knew we should have waited in the damn truck, and now we must rely on following birds who can only move at natural speed.
Almost as if on cue, they scatter from the trees in a clapping of wings, a rustling of leaves, where they have been waiting. They head further back in their leading direction before landing on trees nearby. Urging us on, we hesitate momentarily, looking up at the disappearing sun in almost synchronized unison, sighing that we may not get another chance, and moving to follow without question.