CHAPTER 8: ONE MONTH
The forest was alive. Not just with the hum of insects or the wind threading through leaves, but with something far older, something that seemed to watch the children as they ran. Trees stretched skyward, ancient and vast, their branches clawing at the sky like the hands of sleeping giants. Shafts of gold cut through the canopy, flickering over roots and moss, but it wasn't enough to chase away the shadows lurking between trunks. Somewhere in those shadows, eyes gleamed, teeth bared.
"Run!" John's voice tore through the forest, cutting across the sound of snapping twigs and cracking branches. The weights on his back bit into his shoulders, the slab of meat tied there slapping against him with every stride. Sweat stung his eyes, muscles screaming in protest. The pounding rhythm of his heart seemed to echo in his ears, matching the frantic pace of the children around him. Every instinct screamed: move, survive.
A howl ripped through the trees — low, bone-deep, a warning and a threat all at once. Another followed, barking — sharp, urgent, a predator's call. Closer.
"They're on us!" Nico shouted, panic breaking through his usual grin. He swung the meat with wild arcs, taunting the unseen threat. The effort was as much about survival as it was about keeping himself calm.
John kept moving, scanning. Roots tried to trip him. Branches snagged his jacket. His eyes flicked from shadow to shadow, measuring the distance, calculating. Amara shoved Thomas forward when he stumbled, her wolf-like ears flicking toward the sounds of pursuit.
"Three hours, remember? Three damn hours!" she snapped, her voice slicing through the chaos. She was always like this — fiery, unyielding, her energy raw and sharp. Her tail lashed behind her, betraying the tension coiled within her.
Another howl. Branches snapped behind them.
"Shit," John muttered under his breath, scanning his squad. Malric moved like a shadow, silent and precise, his expression unreadable. Thomas's pale face glistened with sweat; he gasped for air, fear etched deep. Nico's dark eyes darted back and forth, bait swinging in his hands like a metronome of death, daring the wolves to strike.
"Eyes front!" John barked, his voice slicing through the forest cacophony. "If you trip, you're dead."
"We're dead… we're dead…" Thalia muttered, her voice trembling with a despair that had been settling in over the past month.
"Quiet!" John snapped. "Listen up — here's the plan." Breath ragged, he pointed ahead. "Sylas is setting the trap by that fallen log. We need to drive the wolves straight into it. Everyone has a role. If you screw up, we die. Simple."
He locked eyes briefly with each child. Each glance was an anchor, a promise that they were not alone.
"Malric, break left — make noise, throw rocks, keep them chasing you. Nico, center line with the bait, swing it wide so they follow. Thomas, stick close. Orion, support — anyone stumbles, you drag them up. Amara, Liora — signal the other groups, push them toward the choke point. Thalia, echo the signals so everyone hears. Lucian, rear guard — call out if they're closing too fast."
John's eyes snapped to Nyra, who hovered slightly above the others, her gaze distant and unreadable. "Nyra!" The girl blinked slowly, a faint smirk tugging at her lips, as if she hadn't noticed the pack behind them. "Elowen, take her up. Stay high, track movement. Call out if any break off or try to circle."
The squad moved with precision, their fear harnessed into action.
Malric veered off, bellowing as he smashed rocks against the trunks. His roar carried through the forest, drawing half the pack wide. Nico swung the meat in broad arcs, taunting the beasts, sweat streaking his dirt-smeared face. Thomas stumbled repeatedly, but Orion stayed close, hauling him forward with quiet, steady determination.
Amara and Liora fanned out, their signals sharp and clear, guiding other squads into position. Thalia's voice rang out, echoing commands to those further behind. Lucian clicked twice, precise and measured, from the rear.
Above, Nyra hovered like a specter, Elowen following. Wings cut air as they scouted, eyes sharp. The wolves below were a blur of muscle and teeth, weaving through undergrowth, eyes gleaming with hunger.
"They're pushing fast!" Nyra's voice cut through the chaos. "One's breaking left!"
John's eyes snapped to Malric. "Intercept! Keep it loud!"
Malric's bellow echoed across the clearing, drawing the lead wolf wide. The pack faltered; snarls erupted in confusion.
"Center line, hold!" John shouted. Nico swung the bait again. Thomas faltered, only for Orion to pull him upright. Amara's sharp gestures cut through the chaos, mirrored by Liora. Thalia's voice carried reassurance. Lucian clicked twice — danger close.
Sylas crouched at the choke point. His hands trembled slightly as the roots he had woven waited, coiled like a predator ready to strike.
"Now!" John roared.
The lead wolf lunged, and the forest erupted in controlled chaos. Roots lashed upward, tangling legs, dragging the beast sideways. Another slammed into the trap, momentum broken. A third tried to leap clear — only to crash against the thorn lattice Sylas had set. The pack jammed, snarls echoing in frustration.
"Under the log!" John shouted. The squad dropped, dirt grinding into elbows and knees. Orion hauled Thomas through. Amara yanked Liora clear. Nico shoved the bait ahead. Nyra dropped from the sky, Elowen steadying her as they slid under.
Behind them, the wolves thrashed, tearing at roots that refused to give. The trap held — just long enough.
John didn't look back. "Good job," he said flatly.
The squad moved forward, breath ragged but rhythm intact. For the first time, they were no longer prey — they were hunters.
The last wolf broke off, fading into the forest. Sylas's trap sagged. Silence settled, heavy but alive.
Then the weight of command fell back on them.
"Not bad."
Rauk stepped into the clearing, boots heavy against the soil. Scarred, imposing, arms folded. He scanned them — sweat and dirt smeared faces, muscles screaming. He gave a single nod.
"Better than last week. But still not enough."
No one spoke. No one dared. The forest seemed to hold its breath.
Rauk's gaze locked on John. "We will continue after you rest." His chin jerked toward the camp. "Go eat."
Relief swept through the squad. They moved as one, toward the mess area. The smell of food hit like balm, filling empty stomachs and hearts.
John watched as his squad dove into bowls, hands shaking from exhaustion and adrenaline. A month ago, they had been scattered, terrified children — 150 at first, twenty gone, swallowed by the Covenant's cruelty. Every drill had been blood and panic; every night, grief. And yet… here they were.
Nico slurped loudly, eyes closed in exaggerated ecstasy. "Ohhh yes! Real food! Finally. Something that doesn't smell like punishment!"
Amara jabbed him with her elbow. "You slurped in my ear."
"You're welcome," Nico said proudly.
"I will stab you," she hissed, though a faint smirk betrayed her amusement.
"Please don't stab each other," Thalia groaned. "I'm too tired to watch a murder."
Liora ate silently. "Nico… you were nearly eaten twice today," she said, voice calm.
"That's strategy," Nico countered.
"No," Malric said flatly. "That's stupidity."
Elowen giggled. Nyra hummed a small tune. Thomas shoveled food, Sylas' vines curling possessively around his bowl.
The forest had carved them, reshaped them, scarred them — but they were alive.
And then… the other group appeared.
Kaelen and his squad moved with a careful ease, as if navigating a delicate balance. Sera leaned on Joren's shoulder, grinning faintly. Kaelen slid onto the bench across from John. "Not bad today. Rauk didn't insult you as much. That's basically praise."
Nico's grin widened. "What did you expect? I am in the group" He pointed a spoon at Kaelen. "Try this — it's called food!"
Kaelen laughed. "Is that… a challenge?"
"Oh, absolutely," Nico said, pointing again. "I dare you to finish your bowl before I do."
Sera snorted. "You'll be destroyed, kid."
Nico puffed up. "who are you calling a kid? We are the same age"
The two groups began interacting naturally, teasing, challenging, poking fun — positive energy filling the air.
Then the thud of boots came — heavy, deliberate. Silence fell.
Daren's squad pushed through. "Well, look at that. The little miracle squad… and their fan club. Must be nice eating like champs after one lucky run."
The merged squad froze. Malric straightened. Amara's smile vanished. Liora's eyes sharpened. Sylas' vines twitched. Thomas shrank back. Elowen folded her wings. Thalia looked down. Nyra blinked slowly. Nico froze mid-bite.
John set his bowl down. Posture coiled, expression unreadable. A storm waited.