Greykin Valley

| 2 | Retreat

⥐ ⋞ ☽ ⋟ ⥐

| Jackson |

The smell of ash and blood filled Jackson's nostrils. His ears were ringing, and the world was spinning. He opened his eyes, and although his vision was a little blurred, he could make out the faces of the people laying around him.

His heart started racing as his body tensed up; he watched his packmates grunt and groan, gripping their heads as they slowly sat up. Jackson's first thought was Damon, but in his search for the Alpha, his eyes instead located the incoming horde.

Fear ensnared him like a starved snake, constricting tighter and tighter as each second raced by. There were too many of them, and the swarm wasn't just made up of humanoid zombies, but of cadejo, too. And they were coming in fast.

"Damon!" he called, but when he tried to get up, pain shot through his leg, and he grunted in startle.

He looked down and saw a large shard of glass sticking out of his ankle, and his blood formed a small puddle at his foot.

"Jackson," came Tokala's voice. "Are you all right?"

Jackson looked at the orange-haired man, who just helped Rachel and Dustu to sit up. "Y-yeah, I..." he answered but then shifted his sights to the horde. "W-we gotta go!"

Tokala looked over his shoulder and out the open van door. "Holy fucking sh—"

"Alpha!" Lance called in a panic.

Jackson saw him trying to help someone up—it had to be Damon. With an irritated grunt, he pulled the glass from his ankle and moved past the recovering pack, trying to get to Damon. But that was when he saw Wilson. His best friend lay unconscious close to the doors; his wrists and legs were bound in rope, and there was a small cut on his forehead.

No one was helping him. Why would they? He was just the target.

Lance and Bly tried to help Damon sit up, but the Alpha whined in agony as they moved his body.

"Put him back down!" Tokala exclaimed, hurrying over there.

"They're getting closer!" Julian suddenly called, pointing out the open door. "What the heck are we supposed to do?!"

"Calm down!" Alastor snapped.

"Oh, shit...guys, look," Wesley stammered.

Jackson was about to head over to Wilson, but when everyone started gasping and panicking, he looked at Damon again. Wesley had moved the Alpha onto his side, revealing the hilt of a dagger sticking out of his back...and the blade could only be inside.

"We can't move him," Bly said, shaking her head. "If we don't pull that out properly, he could be and remain paralysed."

"Then what the hell are we supposed to do?!" Julian shrieked, waving their hand out at the horde, which was mere moments away. "Sit around in here and wait to be eaten?!"

What were they supposed to do? Jackson felt a cold sweat spiral through him. He watched the blood ooze from Damon's back while Bly and Lance argued about what they should do about the blade. And Jackson's fear started overwhelming him.

Was Damon going to be okay? They'd be able to help him, right? He'd heal—he had to heal!

This was all his fault. He never should have signed that deal—he never should have let any of his packmates come with him. All of this was happening because he was so selfish and stupid and thought about no one but himself. His idiotic need to find Wilson was going to get everyone killed. It was going to be the reason he lost the man he loved.