Total pages in book: 126
Estimated words: 119746 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 599(@200wpm)___ 479(@250wpm)___ 399(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 119746 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 599(@200wpm)___ 479(@250wpm)___ 399(@300wpm)
“She’s been fighting it, Jensen,” Aubrey says, her voice low and urgent, her eyes full of hope. “The transformation. She can control it, at least sometimes. Just like Nathaniel. It’s because of the McAlister blood. Because they are the originals.”
I study Lainey, trying to reconcile the woman before me with the desperate hiker I’d guided three years ago, with the nightmarish creatures we’ve encountered since entering these mountains. The hungry ones move with a feral, jerking quality, all humanity burned away by their transformation. Lainey stands differently—still too graceful, too still at times, but with a consciousness behind her eyes that the others had lost completely.
“How?” I ask simply.
“Not easily,” Lainey answers, a ghost of a smile touching her lips to reveal teeth slightly too sharp. “I remain in control most of the time.”
“Most of the time,” I echo, unease coiling in my gut despite the miracle of finding her alive. “What about the rest of the time?”
Something flickers across her face—shame, perhaps, or guilt. “I lose control,” she admits softly. “The hunger takes over. I wake up later with no memory of what I’ve done, who I’ve…” She trails off, unable to complete the thought.
A sound echoes from one of the passages leading into the chamber—a low, guttural call that raises the hair on my arms. Lainey freezes, head tilting like an animal scenting danger.
“They’re coming,” she says, her voice dropping to a whisper. “Adam. The others. We need to move.”
“Which way?” I ask, surveying the chamber’s multiple exits with growing alarm.
Lainey moves to a narrow fissure partially hidden behind a stone formation. “Through here. It leads to a passage that goes to the surface.”
I hesitate, years of mountain survival instincts warring with the need to trust our only apparent ally in this nightmare. Lainey notices my reluctance, her transformed eyes narrowing slightly.
“You don’t trust me,” she states, no question in her tone.
“I want to,” I reply honestly. “But you just admitted you can’t always control the hunger. That sometimes it takes over completely.”
“Jensen,” Aubrey says sharply, stepping between us. “She’s my sister. She’s helping us.”
“She’s also one of them,” I counter, keeping my voice low but firm. “The same creatures that tore Cole apart, that would have killed us at the cabin if we hadn’t escaped. I’m not saying she’s lying about wanting to help—I’m saying she might not be able to control whether she helps or hurts us.”
Lainey watches this exchange with an unsettling stillness, neither defending herself nor denying my concerns. When she finally speaks, her voice carries a resignation that’s somehow more disturbing than anger would have been.
“He’s right,” she says to Aubrey. “I am dangerous. Unpredictable. The hunger could take over at any moment, and if it does while I’m with you…” She shakes her head. “It takes so much energy and strength to keep it at bay. But right now, I’m still me. And right now, I’m your only chance of getting out of these caves alive.”
Another call echoes through the chamber, closer now, followed by another from a different direction. Then another. A cold realization settles in my gut.
“They’re surrounding us,” I say, scanning the passages with mounting dread. “Coming from multiple directions.”
Lainey nods grimly. “Adam’s coordinating them. He knows these caves as well as I do now, knows exactly how to cut off every escape route. We need to move. Now.”
The urgency in her voice decides me. Whatever risks Lainey poses, the hungry ones closing in around us present a more immediate threat. At least Lainey can be reasoned with, and there is only one of her, if push comes to shove.
Sure fucking hope it doesn’t.
I gesture toward the fissure she indicated earlier. “Lead the way.”
Relief flashes across her face, quickly masked by determination. She slips into the narrow opening with ease and Aubrey follows immediately, no hesitation in her trust of her sister.
Axe at my side, I squeeze into the fissure just as a guttural snarl echoes from the chamber behind me. The space is tight, forcing me to turn sideways at points, my broader frame making progress more difficult than it is for the women. Ahead, I can hear their movements, Lainey’s voice offering quiet directions to Aubrey.
“Watch your head here…step down carefully…just a little further…”
The passage opens abruptly into a narrow but traversable tunnel, allowing me to move more freely. I catch up to find Aubrey and Lainey waiting, their flashlight beams creating overlapping pools of light in the darkness.
“How far to the surface?” I ask, falling into step beside Aubrey, axe in one hand, rifle in the other. “Cuz I think we have company.”
“Not far,” Lainey says over her shoulder. “But the way isn’t easy. There’s a vertical section we’ll need to climb, and after that, a water passage.”
“Water passage?” Aubrey questions.
“Part of the cave floods seasonally, especially when it snows,” Lainey explains. “Creates a natural barrier the hungry ones avoid—they don’t like water, especially moving water. We’ll have to swim a short distance, but it leads directly to a hidden exit on the eastern slope.”