I pressed myself up against the wall of my parent's bedroom, forcing myself to control my breathing. If this thing found me, I would be dead before the night was over.

"It's in the house, Maverick. I'm going to have to call you back," his protests were cut off as I pressed the End Call button and silenced my phone, entering 911 into my cell. If I needed to, I could call them with just one tap.

I snuck through the hallway, my gun in hand. Heel, toe, heel, toe. I remembered what my father had taught me about hunting. You had to move agonizingly slow so you didn't make a noise. I hoped that this thing was the prey and I was the predator and not the other way around.

My phone buzzed in my pocket from frantic texts and calls from my friends.

I gripped the gun tighter. I knew how to shoot one, I just never had before. There was a first time for everything, I supposed.

There was another loud thud in the room just ahead of me. I almost laughed at myself for being guilty if I were to put a bullet hole in the wall.

I peeked my head around the corner. The black mass was attempting to pass through a wall with a metal picture on it, but its top half continued to get stuck. Metal, I thought. It can't pass through metal.

I sprinted as fast as I could across the corridor, the carpet floor helping to soften my footsteps. I flew down the stairs as quietly as I could, opening the front door and slamming it. It was freezing. There was snow up to my knees and ice patches spotting the ground. I had no jacket or gloves and my shoes were only sneakers, not fit for the wet weather.

Still, I tracked through the bitter winds. I could feel the thing behind me, following my every move. I tried to speed up my steps, but with every inch I gained it was a foot closer.

My hand was practically frozen to the gun, my finger searching for the trigger. I spun around and aimed the barrel at its right copper eye. There was a loud bang and the gun nearly flew out of my hands. The recoil was hard to control. The bullet flew through its eye, hitting a tree, and the spot where a pink circle would've been turned an inky black.

I cursed under my breath. The road was a couple yards away, too far. My only resort was to yell for help. "Is anybody out here?"

There was a growl like that of a wolf's hehind me and I quickened my pace as much as I could. I could feel its breath on my neck now. Speed up. Speed up.

There was the roar of an engine and the glare of headlights against snow as a car pulled onto the road. A hand beckoned me to get in. It was Victoria.

I trudged as quickly as I could to the car and flew in, slamming the door closed. The vehicle took off before I could even get my seatbelt on.

"Gun it!" Yelled Knox from beside me. The car was barreling down a hill now, toward the town.

"Where are we going?" Asked Asher in a panic.

"The hospital. Maverick called me and told me to bring you to him, Taren. You hung up and he wanted to make sure you were okay."

I felt my cheeks flush and I looked down at my shoes to conceal it. Then a thought occurred to me. "What about my gun?" I held it up in the rear view mirror to show Victoria and Asher.

"Hide it under the seat when we get to the hospital. In the mean time, we might need it."

I peered behind me. We weren't being chased. "It's not after us anymore."

"No, look," Knox pointed to the trees speeding by the window. The black figure was racing through the forest, though it seemed to be going away from us at the moment.

"We can't lose it. We'll just have to wait until it gives up."

"We don't have that long," replied Victoria. "The hospital is only ten minutes away—"

"STOP THE CAR!"

The breaks screeched loudly against the slick concrete as we slid to a stop just in front of a tree that had sprouted in the middle of the road, blocking our way.

I rolled down the window. Cold air flooded the car. I held my gun out the window and used the glass as a stand, aiming and pulling the trigger rapidly.

Click! The gun picked the right time to run out of bullets. The thing was making its way deeper into the forest, retreating into the blanketed bushes and brambles.

"It's gone," I heard Victoria whisper. A wave of relief swept over the group.

"So what do we do now? Walk to the hospital? Call a ride?"

"How would a ride get to us through this tree? Only specialized trucks can go off the road. I say we walk. There are some snow clothes in the trunk, Taren. I know you didn't really have much time to prepare for an angry black mass to come floating onto your property."

I nodded to Victoria in thanks and changed into boots, a heavy coat and gloves.

"I'll call the towing company. We'll all split the charge, deal?"

"Deal."

We started walking silently down the road, our ears bright red and our hearts pounding. I could barely process what had just happened. Why had the thing left us alone? Though I didn't want to admit it, the gun did absolutely nothing except make a loud noise. The bullets were useless.

My stomach twisted at the thought that this could happen again. Next time, I'll be prepared.

"What's that?" The group turned their attention to the tree line. The possibility that the mass had come back was too great and too real for us to ignore.

Along the dark horizon were three figures. As they drew closer I could make out features—the bright red hair of Thomas, the freckles on Rena's cheeks. They were the teenagers . . . the missing teenagers.