Chapters (69)
The sky splits with another angry flash, and I flinch at the noise.
With the spotlight-like flash illuminating my surroundings, I realize just how close the neighboring trees are. Their branches overlap, beckoning me like a flimsy rope bridge over a deep crevasse.
The limbs sway in the wind, but I can’t help considering their escape. If I’m careful, take my time, lay my feet right, and grab what I need to grab, I could theoretically traverse the tree tops all the way back to Grandma Minnie’s yard. The whole time, I would be out of reach of wolves, and even if a bear climbs this tree to follow me, would they try hopping from branch to branch? Surely, they weigh too much to pull off the same maneuver I’m planning.
Sheets of rain crash down harder, causing shivers to rack my body. The cold, wet weather isn’t going to help with my grip, but if I don’t leave this tree soon, I’m not sure I’ll be able to move my quickly cramping fingers.
Slowly, I release my death grip on the tree trunk, moving my grasp to an overhead limb. Then, I inch forward. The wood creaks under my weight, but I can already brush the smallest twigs on the neighboring tree.
I’ve just about worked up the courage to make a grab for the first step in a long journey when I hear a noise over the torrential downpour.
17
ZOEY
“Zoey! Where the hell are you?”
I don’t know if I’m more elated at the sound of another human being looking for me or terrified that they might come face-to-face with the very creature I’m hiding from.
“Here!” My shout comes out desperate and high-pitched, turning it into more of a screech.
“Zoey?” A few seconds later, Warner crashes through the bushes. He’s so determined in his searching that he’s about to pass right under my hiding spot.
“Wait! I’m up here!”
He whirls around, blinking rain out of his eyes as he gazes up at me. “Thank fuck.”
I couldn’t convince myself to climb down before when it was only my safety at risk, but for Warner, I accept the danger.
My descent is just as ungainly as the initial climb, plus a few uncoordinated slips because of the wet surfaces. Finally, I’m standing on solid ground, but that lasts only a second before I’m swept up into a pair of strong arms.
“What the hell, Zoey? Do you always climb trees in thunderstorms?”
“N-n-n-o.” My answer quivers out through chattering teeth.
“Damn it. You’re soaked.”