Chapter 2

The first thing I felt was pain - deep and throbbing, like my skull had been split and poorly glued back together. Then light. Way too much light. I squinted, trying to shield my eyes, but even the shadows behind my eyelids pulsed orange and red like the sun was burning straight through me.

I groaned and pushed myself upright, every muscle in my body burning. Dirt clung to my palms and sharp, waxy leaves bit into the flesh. The smell of pine sap. Silence. My brain lagged behind everything, like it was rebooting one corrupted file at a time.

This wasn’t my apartment. This wasn’t the street. Hell, this wasn’t anywhere near home.

I blinked until the trees stopped swimming in my vision. A forest - dense, unfamiliar, quiet in the wrong way - like all the things that should be making noise were holding their breath. My heart stuttered.

“What the… where am I?” My voice sounded dry and hoarse, like I’d swallowed sand.

I tried to stand, got halfway, and froze.

A smell hit me hard - wet, hot, wrong. Like a garbage truck full of shit and rancid meat had been dumped on a campfire. Rot and feces and something stranger underneath, something sharp and metallic that made my stomach twist.

“Jesus,” I muttered, sniffing the neckline of my shirt. I knew I hadn’t showered that morning, but I wasn’t feral. I checked my armpits, my breath - nothing came close to that stench.

It was coming from somewhere else.

The underbrush to my right rustled. Too heavy to be wind, too slow to be a deer. Something pushed through the bushes.

My breath caught in my throat.

It was… a wolf. Kind of. Except wolves didn’t have bodies that looked like they’d been assembled by a butcher with no concern for symmetry. It was the size of a horse, maybe bigger, and its hide rippled with motion - faces, dozens of them, shifting beneath its fur like they were pushing to the surface. Jaws, half-formed eyes, snouts twitching independently, all sniffing, tasting the air. All looking for food.

Another one stepped out behind it - smaller, but no less horrifying. Only a dozen faces. Only. God.

I scrambled backward on my hands, a branch snapping under me loud enough to make the creatures’ ears swivel. The smaller one locked onto me.

It wasn’t a curious look. It wasn’t wary. It was hunger - raw, ****, animal hunger. An emptiness I could feel in my soul. A pit that could never be filled, no matter how much it ate.

“Good doggy,” I said, because apparently my survival instincts were on vacation. My voice came out like a whisper. The creature stepped closer. “Good… d-doggy,” I tried again, holding up my hands like that would convince the nightmare not to eat me.

Its lips peeled back. Not one set of lips, every set. Dozens of mouths grinning in a way no living thing should. Its whole body trembled with anticipation.

It took another step toward me, slow and deliberate. My heart hammered so hard it hurt. This thing wasn’t stopping. And there was no one else out here. No one but me.

The big one moved first. A blur of matted fur and gnashing mouths surged toward me, and I scrambled backward so fast my shoes slipped in the leaves. I went down hard, the world tilting sideways -

- and something else crashed over me. A shadow. No - a person.

A woman landed between me and the monster with the **** of a dropped anvil. Tall. Broad-shouldered. Muscular in a way that looked carved, not grown. Her skin was green - actually green - and it caught the dying sunlight like polished jade. She let out a roar that made the trees tremble, already swinging a massive battle-axe in both hands.

Steel slammed into the amalgam wolf with a wet, meaty crack. The beast shrieked - an inhuman, multi-layered cry that clawed at my spine - but when it staggered back, I could see the wound was just a shallow gouge.

Oh God. That was a light hit? It was as if this thing was made of stone, the blow only gouging the surface.

The smaller creature darted sideways, keeping low, circling her. Its dozen faces sniffed and snapped like it was arguing with itself about where to bite first.

I crab-crawled backward as fast as I could, lungs burning, brain screaming at me to run, to hide, to wake up - but my legs wouldn’t pick a direction. Fear had me pinned in place, useless.

The woman, however, didn’t seem afraid. She pressed her attack, each swing of her axe wide and brutal enough to fell a tree. The large beast dodged back, step by step, never taking its eyes off her.

Then I saw it - the smaller beast slipping behind her, gliding into her blind spot like a shadow with teeth.

I had to do something. That stupid, do-gooder, boy scout voice in my head breaking through the fear-based paralysis. I had to do something.

My hand closed around a fallen branch. It wasn’t a weapon. It was barely a stick. But adrenaline roared through me, drowning out reason, and I charged with it raised over my head like an idiot in a cartoon as the smaller beast readied to pounce.

The woman was no idiot. The way she fought, she knew the smaller beast was there. She had turned her back to bait it into attacking. And I didn’t see it until it was too late. She spun toward the smaller beast, faster than anything I’d ever seen, already mid-swing, axe arcing beautifully-

-and then she saw me rushing right into the path of her blade.

Her eyes widened and she wrenched her swing sideways at the last possible instant.

I stumbled, feet sliding under me, and fell backward again - this time from sheer momentum. Her axe whooshed over my chest, close enough I felt the wind of it. My spine hit the dirt and the breath shot out of me.

The smaller beast didn’t hesitate. Seizing the opening, it lunged low and sank all its competing jaws into her leg.

She grunted - not a scream, not even a cry. Just a deep, furious sound.

Then she grabbed the creature by whatever part of it she could get her hands on and hammered it into a tree. The trunk shook. Bark exploded. The beast yelped and let go, but she was bleeding now. The big one sensed it. So did the small one, which was already pulling itself upright again, rage trembling through its many faces.

The woman braced her injured leg and lifted her axe. She didn’t seem scared, didn’t even hesitate. She lunged forward again, her axe cleaving into the larger beast’s shoulder with a wet, ripping crunch. Blood - thick, dark, and foul - splattered across my face and shirt in a hot mist. I gagged, wiping at my eyes, but she was already moving, already positioning herself between me and the monsters like a wall of living stone.

“Run,” she said without looking back.

I froze. My brain, stuck in neutral, churned out questions instead of decisions. Should I leave her? Can she handle them both? Where the hell would I even go?

She turned her head just enough for me to see one fierce, yellow eye. Still watching the beasts. Still ready to strike.

“Run!”

That kicked my brain into gear. My legs finally remembered their purpose, and I scrambled up, nearly tripping on my own feet as I launched into a stumbling sprint. My lungs screamed immediately. Every muscle complained. I nearly forgot to breathe. My overweight, out of shape, fifty-something body not used to… honestly anything anymore. But I ran anyway - because she told me to, because I didn’t know what else to do.

Behind me, leaves exploded as the smaller beast bolted after me, hunger overriding strategy. I heard its many jaws snapping in anticipation. A horrible, eager sound.

But the woman was faster. A blur of green and steel flashed across my peripheral vision. Her axe slammed down between the faces on the creature’s back, driving it maw-first into the forest floor. The impact shook the ground. The beast twitched once, twice, and went still.

My dress shoes slipped again, my feet tangling beneath me. I fell hard on my side, sliding in a shower of leaves just in time to see the larger beast take advantage of her moment of vulnerability. It launched itself at her, its massive bulk slamming her onto her back.

“No!” The word tore out of me before I could stop it.

She grappled with the monster, straining to keep its central jaws from closing around her face or throat. Smaller mouths along its ribs and neck tore at her arms, her shoulder, her side, ripping into green skin that bled dark, almost black.

I grabbed the nearest stone I could find, fist-sized and jagged, and hurled it with everything I had. It sailed into the brush, missing the beast completely.

“Damn it!” I grabbed another, and threw again. This one struck the creature in its flank, near one of the misshapen eyes. It barked - a horrible, multilayered sound like a dozen dogs growling at once - and flinched.

It wasn’t much. But it was enough. The woman twisted beneath it, wrenching her axe upward and wedging the handle sideways into its main maw. The beast bit down, cracking the wood like a bone. Splinters flew, but she used the moment of resistance to push with her legs - muscles corded, teeth clenched - and kicked the monster off her.

She rolled to her feet in one smooth, focused motion, now holding only the axe head in her hands. With a roar that made the very air tremble, she launched herself at the beast. She hammered the sharp steel into the creature again and again, each strike fueled by raw, primal fury. The beast staggered, collapsed, tried to rise, and she drove it back down. Blood sprayed. Bones cracked. Dozens of mouths screamed at once.

Then, finally… it stopped moving. Dead. The forest fell silent, except for her ragged breathing… and mine.

* * *

My senses slowly dulled, like someone turning down the volume on the whole world. My breathing felt too loud in my ears. My hands shook - not violently, but in that small, pathetic way I recognized all too well. The tail end of adrenaline always did this to me.

It reminded me of sitting in conference rooms after getting blindsided by a client, trying to smile through it while my guts twisted. Or those mornings when Derek stormed into the office on the warpath, looking for someone to unload on.

I swallowed hard, trying not to think about why he’d been so pissed at me lately. Now that I knew. Now that Jennifer had looked me in the eye and said Derek’s name. It all felt sickeningly obvious. I pushed the thought away before it could dig in. Not now. Not here.

“Wow…” The word slipped out before I even realized I was talking. “T-thank you. For, you know… saving me.” My voice sounded small. Embarrassed.

The woman didn’t move, still crouched slightly, still watching the dead monster like it might twitch back to life.

“Just here for the bounty,” she said finally. Her voice was low and worn, scraped by use rather than age. She pushed herself upright, slow but steady, favoring her left leg in a way that somehow didn’t make her look any less dangerous. Her focus never left the grotesque heap of fur and faces at her feet.

“Bounty?” I echoed.

“Mother Hunger.” She nudged the creature with her boot. A beat passed, then she sighed. “That was my favorite axe…” She yanked the ruined head free, metal groaning, and flicked it aside like a broken, plastic spork.

“Was that its name?” I asked, still trying to make sense of what I was seeing.

“Almost,” she said.

“I don’t understand.”

She exhaled sharply through her nose. “If she’d kept feeding, she would’ve climbed back to godhood.” She gave the corpse a light, almost contemptuous kick. “This was her swarm form. Half-made. Hungry and stupid because she hadn’t finished changing.” Her eyes snapped to me suddenly. “Why are you here? Human lands are ten days east.”

The pivot hit me like a slap. “I… I don’t know,” I admitted. And the truth was even uglier: I really didn’t.

She rolled her eyes, bent, and heaved the monster onto her shoulder in one practiced motion. Then she turned and started walking.

“Wait! Where are you going?”

“To turn in the bounty.” She didn’t slow down.

“But… let me come with you. I…”

“Ten days east.” She jabbed a finger to the right without looking back.

I looked around at the endless trees, the dim light, the lingering smell of rot. Ten days alone out here? I didn’t even know where here was. I didn’t know what direction east was. I didn’t know what had dragged me into this place or what else hunted inside it. I was a project manager, not… whatever she was. I needed information. I needed a plan. I needed not to die.

So I went to the smaller creature—the one she’d killed first. The stench nearly stopped me. I gagged, covered my mouth, dry heaved, then got myself under control - mostly. Then grabbed a handful of matted fur and hauled. The body resisted. It was too heavy, too limp, too… wrong. It took three tries before I managed to get it onto my shoulders, and when I did, my spine shrieked in protest. The thing weighed as much as a refrigerator. A refrigerator full of meat.

But it was the only idea I had.

I staggered after her, each step a prayer that my knees wouldn’t fold.

She stopped, not turning. “What are you doing?”

“Making myself useful,” I wheezed. “You have to turn this thing in, right? Two is better than one?”

“You’ll slow me down.” Her tone said this was a fact, not an insult. “I’m not waiting for you. Go back to your people.”

“I’ll keep up,” I said. My mouth delivered it with confidence my bones did not share.

She didn’t respond. She just kept walking, and I did the only thing I could—I followed.