Taking advice from a stranger felt like a gamble. "Even still, they are the only family I have left; I can't just vanish," Kayla insisted, her voice laced with conflict. Ali sighed, a puff of air that seemed to carry the weight of the situation. "I'll drive you home. It will give you a chance to pack, I guess..." She conceded. "But we have to be quick. There's no telling how fast they'll uncover your real identity," Ali warned. Kayla nodded, her heart pounding in her chest, a mix of fear and determination hardening her gaze.
The drive to Kayla's house was a blur of anxious thoughts and furtive glances. As Ali's car screeched to a halt, Kayla hesitated,
Before closing the door, she stared at the house—a quaint, two-story dwelling that suddenly felt like a cage. "Be quick," Ali reminded her, her voice tight with urgency. Kayla nodded, a lump forming in her throat, and with a deep breath, she pushed the door shut and sprinted towards the entrance.
Inside, she bolted up the stairs to her room, the familiar creaks of the floorboards now sounding like alarms. Grabbing a worn duffel bag from the closet, she frantically began stuffing clothes into it, her hands trembling. "Kayla!" Angie's voice echoed from the doorway, startling her. "Where have you been?" she asked, her eyes narrowed with concern as Kayla continued to pack, her movements frantic. "I... I can't talk right now. I have to go," Kayla stammered, zipping the bag shut, unsure of what to say without revealing too much.
Kayla turned, attempting to brush past Angie, but Angie blocked her path, her expression a mix of worry and suspicion. "What's going on?" Angie asked, her voice softening. "You know you can talk to me..." she added, reaching out to touch Kayla's arm. "For your own good, I can't," Kayla said, her voice barely a whisper, laced with a pain she couldn't express.
"Just know I'm doing this for you and Xander," she said, her eyes welling up with tears.
Kayla pushed past Angie, who quickly recovered and followed close behind. "Kayla, wait!" Angie called out as they hurried down the stairs, her footsteps echoing through the house.
Kayla reached the front door, her hand trembling as she turned the knob. But as she stepped outside, she froze, her blood turning to ice. The street was lined with police cars, their flashing lights painting the scene in an ominous red and blue glow. And standing in the yard, his gaze piercing, was an FBI agent, his presence radiating authority.
"Mikayla Green, you need to come with us," the FBI agent stated, his voice firm and devoid of emotion.
"What the hell is going on?" Angie asked appearing behind Kayla.
Kayla looked to Ali, who the cops had handcuffed against her car. "Run" Ali mouthed. Kayla turned back to Angie. "I'm sorry" Kayla said with a shaky breath before suddenly turning into a wolf and leaping off the porch and running. "GET HER!" the FBI agent demanded.
Angie watches in shock as she fell backwards onto her butt. She couldn't believe it. Kayla was a shifter.
The asphalt blurred beneath Kayla's paws, each stride a desperate drumbeat against the rising panic in her chest. Her tanish-red fur rippled in the wind, the world a dizzying kaleidoscope of Cars and horrified faces. She was a Shifter, a nightmare made real, and the only thing separating her from oblivion was the rapidly dwindling distance to the tree line.
Sirens wailed, their discordant song echoing the turmoil within her. How had it come to this? One moment she was coming home from work, just riding her bike, the next… watching a man be torn apart by a black wolf. A monster. And now she is accused of a murder she didn't commit, hunted like an animal.
She risked a glance over her shoulder. The police cars were gaining, their relentless pursuit a physical manifestation of her fear. The tree line was so close, she could almost taste the earthy promise of escape. Bursting with adrenaline, she pushed harder, her powerful muscles bunching and releasing with explosive force.
Finally, she reached the sanctuary of the woods. The slight darkness of the shade was a welcome reprieve, the thick canopy swallowing the harsh glare of the Sun. She didn't stop, couldn't stop. The image of the dead man's ripped up bloody body flashed in her mind, fueling her flight. They would blame her, of course. Who would believe a Shifter could be innocent?
The forest floor was a treacherous tapestry of roots and fallen branches, but Kayla navigated it with an instinct honed she didn't know she had.
A new sound pierced the trees – the unmistakable thwack of helicopter blades. They were using thermal, she knew. It wouldn't be long before they found her again. Panic threatened to overwhelm her, but she fought it back. She had to think. She had to survive.
She veered sharply to the left, plunging deeper into the undergrowth. The trees were her allies, their dense foliage a shield against the prying eyes in the sky. She could hear the helicopter circling, the sound cutting through the trees to her ears like a hot knife.
Suddenly, the trees opened into a wide field bathed in the bright light of the sun. Kayla hesitated for only a heartbeat before bursting into the open. The helicopter spotted her instantly, the pilot locking onto her fleeing form.
She ran, a tanish-red streak against the green expanse. The wind roared in her ears, the ground a blur beneath her paws. She could feel the oppressive weight of their gaze. They were so close.
Just when her lungs were burning and her muscles screamed in protest, she reached the opposite tree line. Without breaking stride, she plunged back into the darkness of the trees closing around her like a protective embrace.
She didn't dare slow down. The helicopter was still there, she could hear it circling, but the trees offered a momentary reprieve. She ran blindly, her only goal to put as much distance as possible between herself and her pursuers.
Doubt gnawed at her. Could she really escape? Was there any hope of proving her innocence? Or was she doomed to live the rest of her life as a fugitive, a monster hunted by the world?
She pushed the thoughts away, focusing on the here and now. One step at a time. One breath at a time. She was a survivor. She had to be.