Chapter 129
Raven
Miles's scream cut through the night like a knife through silk.
Right on schedule. Time for Maddie's real move. First the rocks, then the bottles—amateur hour warm-up acts. Now she'd finally gotten bored playing games and decided to show her hand.
I'd been lying here waiting for exactly this moment, ready to teach these kids what happens when you pick a fight with the wrong person.
Wait.
This scream was different. Higher pitched. Raw. Genuine.
I was out of the tent before conscious thought caught up with instinct, my hand already reaching for the KA-BAR strapped to my inner thigh. The zippered flap barely slowed me down.
"Stay inside," I hissed at Leo and Maya. "I don't care what you hear. You come out, you're dead weight."
Leo's eyes were wide in the firelight filtering through the tent fabric. "But—"
"Stay. Inside." I yanked the zipper shut from the outside, sealing them in. They'd thank me later. Or they wouldn't. Either way, they'd be alive.
The moment I straightened up, the first thing that hit me was how bright Maddie's side of the camp still was. Multiple fires burning, LED lanterns hanging from tree branches, a whole goddamn carnival of light.
Something's wrong with that picture.
If they were attacking, they'd want darkness for cover. Unless—
The hair on the back of my neck stood up a full three seconds before my conscious mind processed why.
I turned.
"Fuck."
Ten pairs of eyes gleamed back at me from the tree line, reflecting the firelight like tiny mirrors from hell. Not human eyes. Too low to the ground. Too hungry.
Coyotes.
But not just any coyotes. These were the big ones, the alpha predators that had survived long enough to get bold. Forty, maybe fifty pounds each. The kind that would normally avoid humans unless they were starving or rabid.
And judging by the foam flecking the jaws of at least three of them, "rabid" was looking pretty goddamn likely.
"Jesus Christ!" Miles's voice cracked. "Where did they—how did they—"
"Shut up and let me think." But even as I said it, my eyes dropped to the ground near his feet.
Broken glass. The unmistakable sharp-sweet stench of deer urine mixed with something else—musk gland extract. The kind of scent lure that hunters used to draw predators from miles away.
Oh, that clever bitch.
"They baited them here," I said, my voice flat. "They smashed bottles of predator attractant around our tents. Probably mixed with food waste to really get them worked up."
"What?" Miles's face went from scared to furious in about half a second. He rolled up his sleeves like he was about to go throw hands with a pack of wild animals.
"Master, I know these coyotes aren't that big. Let me draw their attention! You take out the alpha—the biggest one—and maybe the rest will scatter!"
I almost smiled. Kid had balls, I'd give him that.
"Noble thought," I said, pulling my KA-BAR from its sheath. The blade caught the firelight, clean and sharp. "But look at their eyes. See the ones with the red tint? That's not just aggression. That's neurological damage. Rabies. You get bitten by one of those, you've got about forty-eight hours before the virus hits your brain, and then..." I drew my finger across my throat.
Miles's face went pale. "Oh. Oh."
"Yeah. Oh." I grabbed one of the burning branches from our fire, hefting it like a torch. Tested the weight. Not ideal, but it would do. "Here." I tossed him another branch. "You guard that tent. Anything with more than two legs tries to get in, you set it on fire. Got it?"
He caught the makeshift torch, staring at it like I'd just handed him a live grenade. "But what about you? There's ten of them!"
I transferred the KA-BAR to my right hand, the torch to my left. The firelight painted dancing shadows across the trees, making everything look twice as sinister. Perfect.
"Me?" I rolled my shoulders, feeling my ribs scream in protest. That bear had done more damage than I'd admitted. Every breath was a reminder that I was fighting on borrowed time. "I'm going to do what I do best."
"Which is?"
I smiled, and it wasn't a nice smile. It was the kind of smile that made grown men reconsider their life choices.
"Slaughter."