2

I stare down at the ground unseeing. The man who did it just turns his back and walks away. I stay there for a while. I don't know what to do. I'm not sure where to go. I'm almost too scared to move. What if I run into another man like the first one?

So is it for a bit, trying to scour my memory trying to think of what to do next. A bubbling comes from the sky, and a sleek car emerges from the sky, settling down in the space next to me.

I swallow and stand. I'm drenched in blood, dirt, and snow. I pull down my shirt trying to look somewhat presentable.

A few men emerge, and I step back at the sight of them, my eyes darting about. I should've stockpiled some weapons—

They split in half in formation, making a path for an older man, who hobbles on a cane. His weather face crumples into a small smile.

He looks kind.

My shoulders relax for a moment, but the stickiness of that man's blood sends the ridge right back up my spine.

I hold my breath. There's something in his free hand. I edge back.

"You've had a rough day, huh?" He asks.

His voice is full of gravel, but it's somehow comforting. I nod softly, but take another step back.

He nods and offers me another half smile, nodding at the dead man next me. "There's more like him," he opens his hand. "Put it on. It'll stop them for coming after you."

I glance down at it. It's square, wrapped in plastic. It looks something like a bandaid. Still...my hands shake. I'm scared.

My hands shake every time I try to will my arms to reach for it. My heart pounds in my ear like a drum, thumping in a rhythm that seems to form the same phrase: you're going to die.

"I know you're scared, honey." His brows are so thick, when he frowns, it covers his eyes. It's a comforting melancholy, it feels familiar. Safe. But my body won't accept the answer.

The blood. The blood sticks to me, combatting any reason. I don't want to be like that man. I don't want to die.

"Scared. Confused. And I know...I know you've been through something terrible just now. I know it's hard for you to trust me."

He steps forward. "Did he smell bad?"

I nod softly.

"They smell you too. But you smell...good. It's how he found you. How we found you."

I step back.

"But this patch? This will keep them smelling you. There are bad alphas. I know you've seen that firsthand," he urges the patch to me once more. "But there are good ones too."

I reach out my hand to take it, but it shakes so hard I pull it back. I close my eyes and take a shaky breath. The old man, shifts in his spot, leaning harder on his cane. He exhales, and I watch his breath in the cold air until it dissipates.

"You must be freezing. You'll get frostbite soon. Let me help you. You can come back with me. I'll have good, warm clothes. Give you some food. Take a shower. But I need you to put on this patch."

Shower. The smell of iron is all I can think of now, his blood, somehow continuing his violation even after his death.

My stomach turns again. Anything to get away from this place. It looks like they have civilization. Plus...something tells me I can trust this man.

I take it, and he taps the nape of his neck, to show me where to put it. I do so, close my eyes, and hold my breath waiting for me to die.

He chuckles and pats my shoulder. "See? You didn't explode. Come now," he taps his cane twice. "Let's get you cleaned up."

I finally inhale again. The air...it's lighter. That sickly scent has dissipated, almost leaving no trace of it.

I follow him, the lights of the car whirling to life. As I slide into the opened passenger seat, I glance back at the landscape. I shiver, finally noting the cold prickling on my skin and sliding in.

I hug the handle as it lifts into the air, trying to maintain distance from the old man. He's stoic now, his gaze out the window.

I shift once more, a squeak sounding from the seats. He looks over at me and smiles softly.

"Try to get some rest. It's a bit of a ride. I'll wake you when we arrive."

I lean my head against the window, but I don't dare sleep. My mind is still blank. It's somehow blanker, as if complex thoughts were inaccessible to me.

My eyes droop. I have had a rough day. A yawn escapes and before I know it, sleep takes me. As the edges of my consciousness fade I hear the old man murmur something to himself.

I question it for the second I have before the world goes dark, but I can't make sense of it. It slips away with my consciousness as I finally fall off to sleep.