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The screeching of tires on pavement sent Storm’s fear skyrocketing, and he didn’t need to turn around to know who was behind them.
The hunters had come for them.
Gunshots sounded, the bullets whizzing past their bodies but 54
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missing by several feet.
Storm knew from experience that firing a gun from a moving vehicle wasn’t as easy as it looked.
“To the trees! To the trees!” John yelled inside his head.
The forest area was thick, and the truck wouldn’t be able to follow them inside it. It was strange. The trees weren’t actually that far away.
They were just across the two-lane highway, but as they were being chased by a truck that was quickly gaining on them, it felt like miles that they had to run.
The powerful engine growled right behind them, and just when Storm thought he was going to get his tail caught in the tires or something, they burst through the shrubs leading into the woods.
The truck actually followed them. It tried to, at any rate. John and Storm were forced to run another thirty feet or so, ducking and weaving under and around hanging branches and other growing shrubs before the trees finally got to be thick enough that the truck couldn’t pass them or run them over.
There was the sound of crunching metal and a hiss of a dying engine behind them as the truck rammed into one of the trees. Storm didn’t stop to turn and see what kind it was, or how totaled the truck was either. He could tell that they wouldn’t be following them in that vehicle.
As they got farther and farther away, Storm heard the vague sounds of yelling and cursing behind them as the hunters got out of the truck. More shots sounded as the hunters fired on them.
Storm thought they’d gotten away scot-free, and now it was simply a matter of running to safety since the hunters had no truck to follow them with and couldn’t keep up with them as they ran through the woods.
Then John all but tackled him, catching him off guard as he got his blind spot, and a long and pained whine came from his throat as they both lost their footing and rolled down a rocky hill.
Storm was better able to catch himself and get back onto his feet Hunted and on the Run
55
before rolling all the way to the bottom. He shook off the dead leaves from his coat, and now the long scratch down his side was hurting again. All that running, and then the fall against all those rocks, had ripped it open just enough to make it annoying and sting like a bitch.
He took a couple of test steps and was pleased that he could handle the pain. He would be fine.
He looked down to the bottom of the hill, expecting to have to inwardly admonish his younger wolf lover for being clumsy and knocking into him.
The sight of John lying motionless at the bottom of the hill stole his breath away.
He ran down to him. “John?”
There was no response. Storm’s heart kicked up several beats.
He skidded to a halt at the bottom beside his lover, kicking up loose and damp leaves.
John’s eyes weren’t open with blood coming out of his mouth and nose. They were shut, and his chest was just barely rising and falling.
He was alive.
There was, however, blood soaking through a patch of fur just over the muscle of his left leg.
Fuck. John hadn’t just lost his footing like some clumsy wolf.
He’d taken a bullet for Storm.
Storm stuck his large paw on the wolf’s shoulder, being careful not to grip him with his claws. He shook the wolf a little, then leaned down and licked along his muzzle, hoping to wake him.
The wolf groaned and opened its eyes halfway. That long mouth opened, and the tongue lolled out in a panting smile.
“Hey,” John said.
“Can you walk?” Storm asked, leaning down to sniff the wound.
He licked it, and John’s leg jerked.
“That hurts!”
“I know. I’m sorry,” Storm said, for both the pain and for thinking John was clumsy. “You need to try and get up. They might still be 56
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following us on foot.”
That alone seemed to be enough motivation to get John to attempt to get back to four paws. He cried out and nearly fell back over again.
“It’s silver,” John said. “I can’t do it.”
“No! Stay up!” Storm used his teeth and grabbed John by the scruff, forcing him back up until he was standing on his own again.
“We need to go. Stay with me until we can find a safe place where I can dig the bullet out. ”
How exactly he was going to do that with no tools, Storm had no clue. They had to find another place to hole up for the night.
John just had to last until nightfall came, and that wouldn’t be for another nine hours at least. Who knew where those hunters would be by then.
He didn’t mention that to John. He wanted to keep the man’s spirits up. The run was slow, but they moved on ahead, and no more gunshot sounds followed them.
Hunted and on the Run
57
Chapter Five
Tatum sniffed the air and smiled.
The other man he was with, Robert, cursed and yelled and kicked at the tires of his truck. The engine smoked and hissed, which was expected due to the way it was wrapped around the pine.
There was nothing they could do for it. The truck would have to be scrapped. They would come back for it later and maybe sell it for parts, but until then they needed to get their supplies and find another ride.
He waited until Robert released
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