Hunting Wolfe

Escape

Suddenly, Aceon's firm grip tightens around my arm, sending a jolt through me and causing Almex to chitter nervously right next to my ear. Without hesitation, Aceon tugs me forward, his determination unwavering even as the pain in my side intensifies.

The station door looms ahead, a beacon of hope. Caydon races forward, wrenches it open, and holds it for us. "Come on, Rayanna, you're almost here!" His voice slices through the tension.

The creature's hot breath sears the back of my legs, each exhale heavy and menacing. Its claws scrape the concrete with a relentless rhythm. Safety is so close; I refuse to die now. Fueled by a fresh surge of adrenaline, I force my tired legs to move faster. Aceon's hand, which still grips my arm, yanks me inside the building just in time. Caydon slips in behind, grunting as he pushes the door shut and locks it.

"We made it!" I gasp, clutching my side, breaths coming in sharp, hurried bursts. My eyes scan the surroundings, relief flooding through me. Gray concrete stretches in all directions, enclosing us in its cold embrace. To the left, a machine hums quietly, poised to offer shuttle tickets at a moment's notice. Beside it, a colossal computer screen flickers, its bold letters showcasing the incessant rhythm of arrivals and departures. Hard plastic seats lie in disarray across the floor, vacant, as if the space itself whispers of abandonment and finality. It is as though the last shuttle has already carried away everyone but us. "We are alive and unharmed!" I say as I look back to my companions.

Caydon's face tightens. "Alive, yes. Unharmed, no," he mutters grimly.

Confusion knits my brows. "What do you mean?" I manage, heart pounding. Caydon turns his left leg slowly, and I follow his movement. My eyes go wide as they land on the back of his calf—four long cuts slice through his skin, dark blood oozing down his leg.

"Oh, Caydon! I'm so sorry! What can I do to help?"

"There's nothing to be done." Caydon methodically removes his cloak, exposing his powerful frame. He wraps the fabric tightly around his injured leg, wincing as he pulls it tight. His shoulders and muscles, robust and tense, stretch the seams of his shirt. The sight is new to me, the mystique of his ever-present cloak is now lifted. My heart beats faster as I watch him bandage his own leg, and straighten up. He sure is handsome. I push the thought from my mind. Now is not the time to be admiring Caydon. I don't need to admire him, period, because he is an assassin, and not my type of man. But... I sigh quietly.

Aceon's eyes widen. "I thought The Prophets of Al-Jean weren't allowed to be in public without the cloak."

Caydon's gaze hardens, his voice steady and resolute. "We aren't. But not bleeding to death takes precedence over the rules of any society."

"I get that." Aceon says.

"So, where to, now?" I ask.

"To the shuttle. Hopefully they have not left yet." Aceon answers, surveying the room.

Caydon's posture stiffens. "You might want to hide that in your bag," he murmurs, his gaze scanning the area.

"What are you talking about?" I inquire, brows furrowing.

"That creature. Almex, isn't it? They don't take kindly to folks removing wildlife from here."

I glance over my shoulder at Almex. "Get in the bag for now. I'll let you know when it's clear." I don't expect him to understand, but to my amazement, he scurries into the backpack. I shift my focus back to Caydon. "Do you think he's native to this planet?"

He shrugs, a puzzled look crossing his face. "No idea. Never laid eyes on one before. Haven't even heard of them."

A woman with short black hair rounds the corner, her eyes narrowing. "I thought I heard voices. Are you three all that's left?"

"Yes, I doubt anyone else is coming." Aceon says.

"Why is the door locked?" she asks, moving towards it.

"No!" Caydon and I shout in unison.

Her hand hesitates above the lock. "Why not? We need to evacuate, but we can't if people can't get in." The sound of scratching echoes from the front door.

Caydon's voice is firm. "Because of that noise. Don't you know why we're evacuating?"

"A breach in the city's dome, allowing the outside atmosphere in."

"Do you know what caused the breach?"

"With the type of men that hang out around here, it's hard to tell. It could have been a druken fight. Or maybe someone was mad at someone and pushed them into the cold."

"You do make a good point. But do you understand what the breach means? Besides the atmosphere problems?"

"No, what?"

"It means something got in."

"Something...what?"

"Got. In. Look at the blood on the floor by your feet."

We all glance down and see a puddle of blood. "What? How? When Who?"

"That's mine. The thing on the other side of the door did that as we tried to enter the station a few moments ago."

"Come on, then." Her voice, slices through the tension. "Let's load up and get out of here before anything worse happens." With decisive steps, she leads us back through the dimly lit passage which she had appeared from, earlier. We navigate the narrow boarding tunnel, the stale air thick with unspoken fears, to a shuttle no bigger than an airplane. At the open door of the shuttle, she stands to the side and waits for us to enter. Once we do, she pulls the door shut behind us.

As we weave through the sparse crowd, exhaustion blurs the figures into mere shadows, indistinguishable between human and alien forms. I find a spot by the window, the perfect vantage point to witness the planet's gradual retreat, its landscape shrinking into obscurity. Pressing my forehead against the chilled glass, I let my eyelids fall, the cool touch offering fleeting solace. As I drift off to sleep, the uncertainty of our next destination looms. Yet, the hope of tracing my brother's elusive path keeps a small flicker of determination burning inside of me.