And if it is within my power, you won't. At least not today. But you know that you can't stay here.
The room darkens, as if storm clouds have suddenly covered the winter sun, and the little gray cat seems to grow larger, as if something impossibly vast stands behind the sofa. Something massive that's coming this way. Go while you still can, Marquis Martinez.
You grab a fanny pack because you can't see your green backpack anywhere. Back through the trash-strewn hall, past Scarper screaming for Clay to be quiet and Clay screaming in mindless pain. Out the busted screen door, into Black Tarn's frozen garden. A sudden bang, and you jump. Gunshots? No, a peal of thunder overhead, in the white sky. When you look up, lightning crawls slowly across the pale heavens, passing from west to east, then over the horizon.
You know the woods behind the recycling center, and though you have no problem avoiding the cops, you're faced with so many possibilities now that you barely know what to do. If you really want to fight the enemies of Gaia, they're coming from the east. But from where, exactly? A defiled place of power? The question is how to get there.
You've got enough money to take a bus across the state line. That's safe and reliable. And warm. Or you could try hitchhiking. That's risky, but you'd save money. Or you could Change. In wolf form, you could run and hunt during the day, seek shelter at night. That could be glorious, assuming you didn't freeze at night.
No risks—at least not on the way there. I take a bus.
I know my way around the world of petty crime and not-quite-crime. I can hitchhike without incident as long as I keep my wits about me.
I pay attention as I hitchhike the whole way there, watching for signs of weird or dangerous behavior.
I wrap up my modest supplies, then head into the woods and become a wolf, trusting to my endurance and survival instincts.
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