Ren Frost's Arc

Chapter 5 of 13

The pigeon had come at dusk, a smudged note tied to its leg. Ren read the crooked words twice by lamplight. A dozen animals, hidden in the brush past the ridge. One night before they vanished. She showed Jason. He read it once and reached for his coat. They found the shack tucked in dense brush, planks cracked, door padlocked. Ren snapped the latch with a pry bar. Inside, twelve animals huddled in filth — goats, a pair of lambs, a thin dog, cages of birds. She did not stop to feel anything. She opened crates and lifted bodies into her arms. Jason had the sled waiting at the tree line, a wide wooden hauler he'd hitched behind the truck. They worked in the same silent rhythm as the cave. Lift, settle, blanket, next. Twelve animals loaded in under an hour. Ren shut the tail gate and let out one slow breath. Then the cry came. Thin. High. Deep in the snowy woods behind them. Jason's head turned. Ren was already moving, lamp swinging, boots breaking crust. She found it in a snare wire — a small white rabbit, blue eyes wide, blood beading at its cheek. The wire had cut to bone. Ren knelt in the snow and worked the loop loose with shaking fingers. The rabbit did not struggle. She tucked it inside her coat against her ribs. Jason met her at the sled. He looked at the bundle in her coat. He looked at the dark woods. "Whoever set that wire is still out here," he said. Ren nodded once. She climbed into the truck with the rabbit warm against her. Thirteen animals saved tonight. One trap left in the snow, and someone who would notice it sprung by morning.