SNARLS OF DEATH

AUTHOR’S POV

Families surged toward the northern path. Someone dropped a sack of food. A child fell beneath the rushing feet, and Elena lunged to pull her out of the mud.

“Get up! Stay with your mother!”

The girl stumbled away.

Elena turned just as another infected man appeared between two cottages.

His gaze fixed on her. Then he charged.

She grabbed a fallen wooden pole and swung it at his head. The impact staggered him, but he kept coming.

Elena struck again, this time driving the pole into his chest.

He crashed against a fence.

“Move!” Garrick shouted behind her.

Elena backed away, then ran.

She reached the northern path as the last families gathered beneath the trees. Garrick was counting heads, shouting for the hunters to take positions along the trail.

“Are we all here?” Elena demanded.

“Everyone who answered.”

“That's not the same thing.”

“I know.”

His expression told her what he wasn't saying. Some residents had refused to leave. Others might already be dead.

Elena looked toward the settlement.

Her cottage stood near the edge of the village, its windows faintly illuminated by the lamp she had left burning. Inside were her books, her mother's old shawl, and the few possessions she had carried from Blackthorn territory.

Three years of work.

Three years of building a life that belonged to her.

She could still run back and retrieve something.

A distant snarl stopped her.

No. There was no time.

“Keep moving,” she ordered.

The survivors entered the mountains.

The path narrowed as darkness swallowed the forest.

Loose stones shifted beneath their feet, and exposed roots twisted across the trail. The hunters moved ahead with lanterns, while the strongest residents helped the elderly and carried exhausted children.

Elena moved between them, checking injuries and forcing people to drink water.

A little girl scraped her knee and began crying. Elena cleaned the wound while the girl's father waited impatiently.

“Can she walk?” he asked.

“She can, but not if you keep frightening her.”

He looked away, ashamed.

Elena secured the bandage and lifted the girl into his arms.

“Stay close to the group.”

They moved on.

Behind them, a crash echoed through the valley.

Then came a chorus of screams.

Elena's steps faltered.

Don't look back, Luma warned.

Elena kept walking.

Another scream rose, followed by a roar that sounded nothing like a human being.

Her wolf pressed against her consciousness, restless and frightened.

Elena, they're spreading faster than we thought.

I know.

If they reach us—

They won't.

She didn't know whether she was reassuring Luma or herself.

After nearly two hours, Garrick raised his hand.

The group stopped at the ridge.

“Look,” he whispered.

Elena stepped beside him.

Below them, their settlement was burning.

Flames devoured the roofs of the houses. Smoke rolled across the valley, turning the night sky a dirty orange. Near the main road, figures raced between the burning buildings.

Some were running.

Others were chasing them.

Elena searched for familiar landmarks. The trading post. The communal well. Mrs. Harlow's cottage.

A roof collapsed in a burst of sparks.

Her throat tightened.

She remembered Mrs. Harlow pressing a basket of herbs into her hands. Tomas grumbling about the ointment she had forced him to use. The children who gathered outside her cottage whenever she had a spare piece of bread.

Had they escaped? Had anyone helped them?

She would never know.

“I'm sorry,” she whispered.

Garrick stood beside her, breathing heavily.

“We couldn't save everyone.”

Elena looked at him. His face was streaked with dirt, and blood stained one sleeve. He had been among the first to help her, even when others questioned her authority.

“No,” she said. “But we can still save the people who are here.”

A child began crying behind them.

The sound broke through the silence. One by one, the survivors turned away from the burning valley.

Elena tightened the strap of her medical bag and faced the mountain trail.

“The abandoned settlement is another hour north. We reach it before dawn, secure the buildings, and establish a place for the injured. Nobody separates from the group.”

Garrick nodded and relayed the orders.

Elena took the lead.

The world she had known was burning behind her. The roads below the mountains were filled with infected, and the warnings no one had believed had come too late.

But the people following her were still alive.

For tonight, that had to be enough.

She led them deeper into the darkness, toward the only shelter they had left.

And behind them, the last lights of the old world disappeared beneath the flames.