Rainy Day
Rainy Day
Sharon struggled through the woods, Addicus's gun pressed to her back, each step an agony of pain and fear. The air was heavy, wind screaming through pines, heavy with the odor of rain. Thunder boomed, closer now, the storm drawing near. Woods were a maze, darkness deepening as the last moonlight faded, Denver's neon a fading fantasy.
Keep going," Addicus spat, his words harsh with hurt—he was in pain, but his insanity impelled him.
Sharon's leg throbbed, her limp growing worse, but she gritted her way on, led by the promise of Peter's rescue. Ahead, the hovel was an old shadow of a thing amidst the darkness, a refuge for the storm gathering.
"There," Addicus announced, seeing it. "The storm will pass."
Sharon hurried, rain pounding, but fell across slick moss, hissing as pain exploded. Addicus stepped forward to help, but she shoved him aside. "Don't touch me!"
"Just helping," he said, voice cold.
“I’ll never need you,” she spat, standing. They reached the shack as the sky opened, rain hammering the tin roof. Inside, it smelled of rot and damp wood, a single room with a broken chair and cobwebs. Addicus checked the corners, gun raised, then shut the door, the storm’s roar muffling the world.
\---
Jinx and Chris arrived at the edge of the slope, Jinx's motorcycle parked over skid marks. Rain was falling, and the road glistened wet. Jinx examined the trees shattered and disturbed earth. "Addicus's car crashed down," she declared, slung her backpack full of weapons across her shoulder.
"Peter covered on foot."
"We are going too," said Chris, looking down at the steep plunge.
Jinx fell with no hesitation, mud dripping on her leather jacket. "Damn, she's tough," Chris muttered, following her down, his boots slithering.
They touched ground in the forest, the wreckage of the car a burning mass, its explosion still echoing through the air. Jinx took in the area, seeing Peter's trail and another pair—Sharon and Addicus. "They're alive," she said, an SMG in her hand. "Let's move."
Chris nodded, pulling out his pistol, its clip nearly gone. The forest was dark, rain falling hard, leaving channels to muck. They followed the track, Jinx's thermal scope cutting through the gloom, striking on low-heat signatures ahead.
"They're close," she whispered.
\---
Sharon cowered in the shack wall, shivering, wet clothes stuck to her. Addicus paced back and forth, gun in hand, his face a portrait of frustration and fixity. "Why fight?" he bellowed. "You're mine, Sharon. You always were."
"You're insane," she said, voice unflinching. "I'll never be yours."
He laughed, the sound hollow. "You're my curse and my salvation. I can't let you go.".
She glared, searching for an escape route, but the shack was a trap—one entrance, no windows. The beat of the rain covered over any possibility of hearing Peter. Her grenade gone, her strength faltering, she would not give way.
\---
Jinx and Chris crept forward, rain veiling, growl surrounding them. "Wolf?" Chris asked softly, weapon raised.
"Worse," Jinx answered, scope locking on a large shape—glinting eyes, bared teeth. She fired, the animal yelping as it fled. "Keep going."
They went on, finding a hollow tree, blood on its edge—Sharon's sanctuary. "She was here," Jinx said, sinking heart. "He's got her."
Peter, further into the woods, followed it, rain pooling his coat, the storm a copy of that six years before when Jane and Debora died. He would not lose Sharon either. The paws came together on a shack whose shape was guesswork under the downpour. He cocked his rifle to finish Addicus but a low growl froze him. Glowing eyes were everywhere in darkness, a she-wolf pack surrounding, drawn by blood and depravity.
Inside the ramshackle, Sharon steeled herself as Addicus stopped pacing and tilted his head. "Hear that?" he tightly gripped the gun. A howl cut through the rain, causing her to shiver. He smiled. "Nature's on my side tonight."
She swallowed hard, fear rising, but her will held firm—Peter was out there, and she'd battle to live. The door trembled, not from the wind but something weightier, and Addicus's smirk fell, his gun going to the doorway, as though the woods themselves had become a threat.