**CHAPTER: THE GOOD SAMARITAN**
The woods were a black mouth swallowing us whole.
Every branch scratched, every shadow felt like it was watching. My ribs ached where I'd hit the seat. Juliet was heavy in my arms, shivering.
Enzo's phone flashlight was weak, just making the darkness around us feel thicker. Charlie's singing had turned into hiccupping into her sister's shoulder.
And Olivia... she was just blank. Moving, but empty behind the eyes. A shell.
We were hopelessly, completely lost.
Then, the sounds started.
A low, guttural growl that vibrated in my chest. The crunch of something big moving through the underbrush. Too big for a raccoon.
We froze, a huddle of stupid, shiny prey in the dark.
Enzo fumbled, pointing his dead phone like a flashlight. "W-what is that?"
Two points of green light reflected back from the trees. Then two more. A chorus of wet snuffling.
"Coyotes," Cassie breathed, her voice tight with a new, raw fear. "Or... wolves."
The first animal slunk into a sliver of moonlight. It was skinny, all ribs and sharp teeth, eyes glowing with hunger.
It was followed by two others. They weren't wolves from my games. They were desperate, wild things, and we were the easiest meal they'd seen in weeks.
Charlie let out a small, terrified squeak.
This was it. We'd escaped human monsters just to be eaten by animal ones.
BANG.
The sound was so loud and close it felt like the sky cracked open. One of the coyotes yelped and scrambled back into the shadows. The others vanished.
We all screamed, clutching each other.
"Well, ain't you a sight."
The voice came from behind us. We whirled around.
A man stood there, lowering a hunting rifle. He was tall and lean, silhouetted against the lesser dark of the forest.
He stepped closer. Long, straight black hair fell past his shoulders.
His eyes were what caught me—a strange, sharp shape, like a cat's or... a siren's, pale and gleaming in the night.
He wore a worn flannel and jeans, a smile on his face that didn't reach those weird eyes.
He looked us over—our torn party clothes, our dirty faces, the leftover plastic zip-tie cuffs on our wrists. "Y'all look like ya fell outta a fairy tale and landed in a bear trap. You lost?"
He seemed safe. He had a gun and he'd just scared off the coyotes. My panicked brain grabbed onto him.
"Our car crashed," I said, my voice rough. I shifted, trying to hide Jules's face against my shoulder.
"Mmm. Saw the mess back 'cross the ridge." The man—he hadn't given a name—nodded slowly. "Didn't see no folks, though. Just some fellas arguin' real loud."
He shook his head, a gesture of pure, low-key concern. "Bad business. These woods ain't safe after dark. 'Specially not for kittens like you. Come on. Cabin's just 'round the bend. Got a fire. Coffee for the big'uns, cocoa for the littles."
We followed him. The cabin wasn't some cute little thing.
It was low and solid, made of dark wood, tucked right against a cliff like it was hiding.
Inside, it was way too neat. A fire cracked in a stone hearth.
There were rough blankets on a saggy couch. But the walls... they were covered in maps. Hand-drawn, detailed maps of the forest, covered in symbols and marks that made no sense.
On a big table, next to normal-looking tools, were jars. Jars filled with feathers, smooth stones, and... bones. Small ones. Animal, I told myself. They had to be animal.
"Make yerselves at home," the man said. His movement was silent. He didn't walk; he flowed. He brought us mismatched mugs of instant cocoa. It was too sweet and the best thing I'd ever tasted.
He talked as he cleaned a scrape on Enzo's arm with gentle, precise hands.
"Name's Yurian. Live out here. Keep to myself. Hunt, trap, watch the stars."
He winked, and those siren eyes seemed to glow for a second in the firelight. "Seen a lot of strange things come through these woods. But you kids... you're the prettiest little lost lambs I ever did see."
I had no idea what that meant. I continued on sipping my chocolate slowly.
He looked at each of us then. Really looked.
His gaze slid over Cassie's brave face, over Charlie's tear-streaked one, lingered on Olivia's terrifying blankness, and finally settled on Jules, asleep now in my lap.
His expression changed. Not mean. Something else. Something I couldn't exactly make out.
"Y'all are powerful lucky I found you," he said, his warm smile never slipping. "Real powerful lucky. 'Cause there are things in these woods... that just love pretty, lost things."
He stood up, stretching his stiff joints.
"I'll take first watch. You all get some sleep. We'll sort it all out at first light.
He took his rifle and sat in a rocking chair by the door, his back to us, looking out. Our protector.
We collapsed. The warmth, the sugar, the exhaustion pulled us under. Cassie held Charlie. Enzo slumped. Olivia curled on the floor. I kept Jules close.
I woke up hours later. The fire was glowing embers. The cabin was cold and silent. I needed water.
I got up and crept toward the kitchen, careful not to step on Olivia, who was coiled like a fern on the braided rug.
A door was slightly ajar. It wasn't the kitchen. It was a small, cold room. A workroom.
A single, sharp beam of moonlight fell through a high window onto a large, flat table.
On it, arranged with careful precision, were dozens of small, carved wooden figures. Animals. Birds. And people. Small, faceless human figures.
They were arranged in a spiral. At the center was a slightly larger figure. Around it, seven smaller ones in a perfect ring.
My blood went slow and cold.
Seven.
I counted in the dark stillness of my mind.
Me. Enzo. Cassie. Charlie. Olivia. Juliet.
Six.
The seventh small figure was separate, off to the side, lying down.
And the larger figure in the center... in its hand was a tiny, carved sliver of wood, sharpened to a point.
A chill, deeper than the night cold, locked my spine. This wasn't a map or a journal. It was a plan. Laid out in children's toys.
The floorboard behind me didn't creak.
It sighed.
I hadn't heard the cabin door open. I hadn't heard a single footstep.
But the feeling of empty space behind me was gone, replaced by a presence. A warmth at my back.
And a warm, friendly voice, dripping with country kindness, whispered right next to my ear, so close I felt his breath:
"Find somethin' interestin', darlin'?"