Turned To Stone

Chapter 14 - Zoe

Zoe had never been more glad for traffic.

She was an hour from home when her phone had blipped, a traffic app letting her know there was something up ahead on the road that was going to obstruct her drive. With the warning being so early, she'd been able to get off the highway and program a back-road route.

With Connor gone for the weekend, she'd had friends over, and she was on her way back from dropping one of them off. Rolling the windows down and putting in an old mixtape CD that she had made years ago (she would never admit how much she still enjoyed those cringe-y songs from her middle school years), Zoe screamed along the backwater streets and shouted along to the radio.

As she crested a hill, two cars came into view, one spun out and blocking both lanes of the street. The other was flipped onto its hood and smoking. She slammed on the breaks and the car screeched to a stop.

Zoe popped out and sprinted for the wreck, ratty tennis shoes slapping against the concrete. "Hello? Is anyone in there?"

She heard a feeble cry from somewhere in the mess and spat a spell into her palms, mixing her physical and healing magic and praying that it would keep her safe from potential burns or cuts.

"I'm trying to get to you, can you talk to me? I need to know where I need to dig!"

"Back here... blue car...."

A child's voice. They couldn't have been more than ten years old. And the blue car was the one flipped upside down.

Zoe leapt over the lowest part of the wreck to the other side, peering in through the shattered window. She could see a little girl, clinging to the ripped child's seat.

"Cover your head! My name is Zoe, I'm going to get you out, okay?"

The girl whimpered and wrapped her arms around her ears. Zoe drew her fist back, coating it with blue physical magic to create a glove. She punched in the broken glass and popped the door open from the inside, then quickly unbuckled the little girl and pulled her out of the seat, cradling her to her chest.

"Are you alright?"

"Where's my mommy?"

Zoe looked around. There was no one else in the crash site. No sign of blood.

"Where's my mommy, Zoe?" The girl asked. Zoe froze for a moment. Something about her voice was unsettling.

"Where's - my - mommy?"

She hurled the child away from her without even looking. The voice had suddenly gone deep and Zoe had the inexplicable feeling of extreme danger.

Diving away from the wreck, Zoe rolled and came up into a crouch, pulling her knife from her boot.

"Skinwalkers." She spat, watching several more of the creatures crawl out of the wreck to stand next to their brethren.

The creatures hissed menacingly, moving forward slowly.

"If you attack me, you're breaking the Witch-Walker Treaty of 1987."

Several of the creatures laughed, making horrible grating sounds in the backs of their throats. "No one will know, will they?"

Something was very wrong. Skinwalkers were rebellious creatures, but if something was as set in stone as that treaty was, they never went against it.

Zoe brought the knife to her lips, whispering a spell into it and focusing as hard as she could. Conjuring magic had never been a strong suit of hers.

The Skinwalkers began to advance, but Zoe hurled the knife at their feet and sprinted in the opposite direction.

As soon as the blade of the knife hit the asphalt, it exploded into bright purple flames. The Skinwalkers shrieked and cowered away from it. 

She knew she wasn't going to get far, but Zoe prayed that she could get into the field and then cut back to the car. It was a vain hope, really.

Something hit her in the back about a dozen feet later, driving a scream from her lungs as it slammed her into the ground.

Zoe twisted herself sharply onto her back and slammed her foot into the Skinwalker's deformed stomach, sending it flying. She scrambled to her feet and searched for another knife, even though she knew she didn't have one. The other creatures closed in, their twisted smiles glinting.

Something rushed past her and Zoe's eyes widened.

Connor hit the Skinwalkers like a battering ram.