They won’t think I’m going to do that. They won’t believe I’d have the courage to travel through the tunnel. They’ll expect me to huddle at the bottom of the stairs and wait for them to go away. They’ll stake out the entrance where I came in, expecting that eventually, I’ll either come back out on my own or the ravagers will drive me out.
I look down the tunnel.
There’s nothing to see. It’s pitch dark down here. Even my keen wolf eyes aren’t sharp enough to pick anything out in the black.
But my other senses will be useful down here.
I perk my ears, listening carefully. The air moves strangely underground—it sounds different. It’s disconcerting. But I don’t hear the sounds of footsteps that would indicate ravagers.
I inhale.
The scent of them is pervasive. I’ve never been around Ravagers before, but I know at once that this is their smell—because it’s human, and yet it’s not.
The Ravagers were human once, a long time ago. Before I was old enough to understand the world I lived in and the dangers it presented. Now they’re the only humans left. The only ones who survived.
But the things they did to survive—they’re unthinkable.
The Ravagers have become cannibals.
Now they live banded together in hives, like predatory insects, ready to swarm over and devour anyone who gets in their path—other Ravagers, shifters, probably even Moon Casters. They have no discernment. They have no humanity left. As far as I’m aware, they don’t attack members of their own hive—they must have some way of recognizing each other. But I’m sure theywouldturn on one another if they got hungry enough.
No one knows why the Ravagers stick to the tunnels, because no one understands the mind of an insane person. And they’re all crazy. Cannibalism will make you crazy. I’m guessing it’s some human instinct to retreat to the most sheltered place they can find. Probably started to kick in around the same time most of the other humans died in natural disasters. If I hadn’t been a shifter, living among a pack, I would definitely have looked for someplace like this to hide out.
As it is, the only reason I’m choosing the tunnel over the threat of the pack behind me is that the Ravagers aren’t looking for me. There’s a chance, if I’m quiet and careful, that I can make it through without attracting their notice.
Just a chance.
I shift my weight slowly as I walk. It’s all I can do not to break into a sprint, bolting through the dark. But as soon as this thought occurs to me, I feel a loose rock shift beneath my foot, and I know that if I was running, I would have kicked it away. It would have made a noise and brought the Ravagers down on me.
The tunnel seems to stretch out forever. I try to tell myself that every step is bringing me closer to the place where I can exit, but it feels like I’m just descending deeper and deeper into darkness, like I’m diving into the core of the earth. My heart is beating a mile a minute. I’m shaking. At any second, I could hear the sound of Ravagers descending on me.
They’re justhuman. I shouldn’t be so afraid of them. And yet…
They hunt in huge swarms. I could fight off one of them, no problem, but they’d surge over me, their teeth sinking into my flesh, too wild and stupid to fear death. That’s what makes them so dangerous. They attack without fear.
I’m not the kind to let fear hold me back. But I definitely have a healthy sense of self-preservation. And right now, it’s telling me to get the ever-loving fuck out of this tunnel before the ravagers arrive.
Then, just when I’m starting to feel like I can’t take another minute, I see light ahead.
I can’t help it. I break into a trot. I can hear my nails clicking against the concrete now, but it doesn’t matter. I just need to get out of here.
From somewhere close by, I hear a howl.
Not a wolf howl. A human howl.
Oh, fuck—!
I can’t tell if it’s in front of me or behind me. I could be running right at it for all I know. My heart kicks into overdrive and my mind feels like it’s swimming in an ocean of panic. My breathing is way too fast.
I see the exit!
I’m sprinting now, my nose pointing toward the stairs. I’m running harder than I ever have in my life, harder than I even knew I could. I reach the stairs and gallop to the top without thought for what might be awaiting me up there.
I emerge onto the city street.
It’s empty. No wolves.
Without breaking stride, I turn down a side street and run for the lake.