Her hand slackened mine, and her eyes glazed over. I swallowed hard, forcing myself to stay calm even as panic clawed at my insides. The distant wail of sirens was growing louder now—a merciful promise cutting through the night's nightmare.
The forest wasn't quiet. The creature's presence still pressed close, an invisible threat lurking just beyond the shattered bus frame and tangled brush. The howl I'd heard before echoed again, urgent and wild, but this time mingled with something more: human voices, shouting, frantic and alert—not far behind the ambulance.
I stood slowly, heart pounding, carefully sliding the cracked phone into my pocket. I needed to get Marie—whoever or whatever was out there might circle back soon. And we couldn't afford to stay here and wait for it to find us again.
The wreck was a tomb, silent except for the labored breathing of the wounded and the haunting emptiness around the others. There was no time to mourn. I clenched my jaw and pulled Marie close, whispering, "We move now."
I stayed with Marie at the hospital. Morning light filtered weakly through the blinds, dust motes drifting in the still air. I sat beside the narrow bed where Marie lay, her breathing steady but shallow. Her pale face twitched slightly, a subtle sign she was stirring from unconsciousness.
I reached out, brushing a stray lock of hair from her forehead, relieved that the throbbing fire there seemed muffled, her wounds stabilizing under the careful care of the doctors.
David was there, sitting quietly in a chair near the door. His usual irrational panic was gone, replaced by a calm, logical demeanor I hadn't seen since the crash. His eyes, clearer now, searched the room, taking in the sterile order.
"We need to organize what happened," he said quietly, almost methodically. "No point drowning in fear anymore. Now that we're safe, we should piece together what exactly went down and why."
For the first time, his words carried weight—pragmatic, focused, not clouded by blame or hysteria. It was a glimpse of the man I remembered before all this chaos.
Far away, deep in the restless silence of the forest, Ryan blinked open his eyes. His shirt was shredded—torn apart in jagged strips.
He checked himself and thought, "As I touched my body, I realized something was wrong—the bruises that should have been there… they weren't. How could that be? They just vanished, as if they never existed. Was I imagining it all?"
He tried to remember the crash, the darkness closing in, those growls... but the memories felt like smoke, slipping through his fingers just when he thought he had hold of them. It was like his mind was playing tricks on him, or maybe he had fallen into some kind of dream he couldn't wake from.
He stood, scanning the dense trees as thoughts swirled in his mind. Ryan wondered, "My body should be aching, my mind should still be racing with fear—but instead, I'm here, standing in the middle of this restless forest, feeling more confused than ever."
The silence weighed heavier as he thought of Scarlet. "Where was she now? Was she hurt?"
His heart twisted with worry, images of her face flashing in his mind—bruised, scared, needing him. He couldn't stay there, lost in these strange, eerie feelings. He had to find her, and had to get back to her no matter what. She wasn't alone—he wouldn't let her be…