Rovers

Chapter 4

A low whimper broke the silence my puppy, stirring with hunger.

“We lay low,” I whispered to the group, keeping my voice barely above the draft. “The roots are in place. We’re invisible. Now get some rest.”

“You heard her,” Christian muttered, retreating into the shadows.

The tunnel was cramped and suffocating. Someone must have cleared the obstruction at the far mouth because a bitter, freezing wind suddenly swept through, striking our faces and carrying the sharp scent of damp earth.

I pulled out a strip of dried meat, tore off a small piece for the puppy, then chewed on the rest. Samantha shifted closer, her shoulder brushing mine as she quietly took her share.

We ate in heavy silence.

No conversation. No laughter.

Just brief, cautious glances and the occasional hollow smile meant to reassure everyone that we were still okay.

But none of us were.

The cold woke me first.

My cheek was pressed against Samantha’s shoulder, her steady breathing the only thing keeping me anchored to sleep. Then came the sound.

A high-pitched, metallic screech tore through the darkness outside the tunnel.

I bolted upright, my breath catching.

I scanned the gloom.

Samantha was still asleep, her face softened by the shadows. The rest of the team lay motionless beneath their heavy cloaks.

Everyone was there.

Except Christian.

And then I noticed what was missing beside me.

No warmth curled against my ribs.

No tiny breathing.

The puppy.

My heart slammed against my chest.

I slipped away from Samantha without waking her, stepping carefully over the sleeping bodies. My boots barely made a sound against the damp stone as I moved toward the tunnel entrance.

Christian stood just beyond the threshold, a dark silhouette against the endless night.

He didn’t move.

He simply stared into the darkness.

“We lost the baby,” I whispered.

Christian turned sharply, his eyes widening in the faint moonlight.

“Baby?”

“The puppy, Chris.” My voice cracked. “Where is it?”

He closed the distance between us, his expression heavy.

“I saw it slip past the roots,” he said quietly. “It ran into the open. I tried to follow it I swear I did. I know what that little thing means to you.”

He glanced back toward the darkness.

“But it’s gone.”

My stomach dropped.

“It ran too far. Too fast.”

The words shattered something inside me.

A tear slipped down my freezing cheek.

Then another.

And suddenly I couldn’t stop them.

“Our lives are going to end just like that, aren’t they?” I sobbed, gripping his jacket. “We’re not going to make it out of here, Chris. None of us are. We’re just going to keep running until something catches us.”

Christian stepped forward and wrapped his arms around me, pulling me firmly against his chest to muffle my sobs.

“I promised you we’d make it,” he murmured. “I haven’t broken that promise yet.”

His arms tightened around me.

“There’s always tomorrow.”

I buried my face against his shoulder and cried until my chest ached and my tears finally ran dry.

The wind howled through the mouth of the tunnel, cold and indifferent.

But in his arms, I finally stopped shaking.

“Let’s get you inside,” Christian whispered, gently smoothing my hair. “You need your strength for what comes next.”

I couldn’t speak.

I only nodded.

Hand in hand, we returned to the tunnel, leaving the darkness behind for one more night.

But somehow, the darkness felt like it had followed us in.

The tunnel felt warmer when we returned.

Yet somehow, it was more suffocating than before.

I quietly returned to my place beside Samantha, lowering myself onto the cold earth without disturbing the others. Christian settled a few feet away, his back against the rock wall, his eyes fixed on the entrance.

Watching.

Waiting.

Guarding us from whatever might be lurking beyond the roots.

I closed my eyes.

Sleep refused to come.

Every gust of wind sounded like footsteps outside.

Every shift of stone made my heart jump.

Then..

“You’re shaking.”

The quiet voice startled me.

I opened my eyes.

Samantha was staring down at me.

Her dark eyes were sharp despite the gloom, her blanket pulled tightly around her shoulders.

“I’m fine,” I whispered.

My voice was raw from crying.

Samantha didn’t believe me.

Her gaze moved past me toward Christian.

He hadn’t turned around.

Then her eyes dropped to the empty patch of dirt beside me.

The place where the puppy had been sleeping only hours ago.

Her expression hardened.

“Where did you two go?”

I swallowed.

“I… I just needed air,” I whispered. “Christian was keeping watch.”

“Don’t lie to me.”

Her voice was barely audible, but there was something dangerous underneath it.

“I woke up when the air shifted. Neither of you were here.”

She leaned closer.

“You’ve been crying. Your eyes are swollen. And now the puppy is gone.”

Her gaze flicked toward the entrance.

“What happened out there?”

I couldn’t answer.

“Did that screech come from near the mouth?”

Christian finally moved.

He rested his arm against his raised knee and glanced back at us.

“The animal ran off, Sam.”

His voice was calm.

Too calm.

“It slipped past the roots while everyone was asleep. I went out looking for it, and she followed . That’s all.”

Samantha stared at him.

For several seconds, she said nothing.

Then her eyes narrowed.

“A puppy doesn’t just run into freezing darkness for no reason.”

Christian’s jaw tightened.

“Sam—”

“Not after we fed it.”

Her voice dropped even lower.

“Not after that screech.”

She reached across and firmly gripped my shoulder.

“Did you see something out there?”

I looked at her.

Then at Christian.

His expression remained unreadable, but something in his eyes told me he had lied to me.

Samantha noticed.

“If we’re compromised,” she whispered, “the whole team needs to move. Now.”

The words hung heavily in the darkness.

And for the first time, I wondered if losing the puppy had been the least of what happened outside.

I bit my lip, feeling the sting of fresh tears threatening to spill. Samantha’s grip on my shoulder remained firm—grounded and unyielding.

“You’re lying to us, Chris,” she said, her voice certain. “We’re the main Rovers. If something happened out there, you tell us. Now.”

Christian stared at her for a long moment.

Then he sighed.

“It didn’t just run.”

His voice was shaky.

My eyes lifted to him.

“There was a screech,” he continued. “It wasn’t just some animal. It was a call.”

Samantha and I exchanged a quick glance.

A call?

“The pup heard it before any of us did,” Christian said. “It didn’t bolt because it was afraid. It was drawn out there.”

His jaw tightened.

“Like it was summoned.”

My stomach twisted.

There was no way I was hearing this correctly.

“I tried to catch it,” he continued. “I went after it, but whatever made that sound… it was already waiting at the perimeter.”

He looked toward the tunnel entrance.

“Whatever is out there didn’t attack us because the root mask is holding. It can’t pick up our scent.”

He paused.

“But the pup didn’t have the scent on it.”

A chill ran through me that had nothing to do with the cold.

“It crossed the line,” Christian whispered.

“And the screech?” Samantha asked.

Her voice had dropped to barely more than a whisper.

“What took it?”

Christian swallowed.

“We don’t know.”

For the first time, I heard genuine fear in his voice.

“I saw something move in the tree line. Something fast. Massive.”

He shook his head slowly.

“And entirely too quiet for its size.”

My breath caught.

“By the time I reached the clearing, the pup was gone.”

Christian’s eyes lowered.

“There was nothing left except a drag mark in the frost.”

Samantha slowly released my shoulder.

She sat back, her eyes fixed on the entrance where the root camouflage swayed gently in the freezing breeze.

The thin layer of crushed roots was still masking our scent.

But now we knew the truth.

The darkness outside wasn’t empty.

Something was out there.

And it was patient.

“If it knows something living was right at the edge of our shelter…” Samantha whispered.

Her hand instinctively moved toward the blade strapped to her belt.

“It’s going to circle back.”

She looked toward the entrance.

“It knows there’s meat nearby.”

“We can’t stay here until morning,” I said.

Both of them looked at me.

“The roots might hide our scent, but if that thing hunts by sight or sound, this tunnel becomes a trap.”

Christian turned fully toward us.

His jaw was set tight.

“We move at first light.”

Samantha frowned. “And the others?”

“We don’t wake them yet.”

His gaze swept across the sleeping figures.

“Let them sleep while they can.”

He looked toward the tunnel entrance again.

“But at dawn, we pack fast.”

His voice hardened.

“And we don’t stop moving until we cross the river.”

Samantha gave a single, solemn nod.

She pulled her cloak tighter around herself, but her hand never left the hilt of her blade.

I drew my knees against my chest and stared at the patch of dirt where the puppy had slept only hours ago.

The tiny imprint of its body was still there.

So was the memory of its warmth.

I blinked hard.

Dawn couldn’t come fast enough.

Because when the sun rose, we’d have to leave the only shelter we had.

And somewhere beyond those roots, something was waiting for us.