June hurtled into the welcoming heart of the forest, deeper and deeper. Her thoughts burned inside her skull like hot coals, and she desperately wanted to scratch them out, if only that would calm the agony. But it wouldn’t.
She had done something foolish—she had Shifted in a situation where people could identify her. When Detective Abernathy opened that door, how could Cordelia explain away the hole in the ceiling, the shattered window, and the missing fifteen-year-old daughter? And the officer still in the parking lot, surely he had at least seen a large, dark shape streak from the research facility to the woods. There was no undoing it; she would probably be labeled “the monster of Seven Falls” and hunted by the government.
She roared in anguish and began to leap, still moving toward the unsettled wilderness. She struggled to figure out what to do now, but her emotions swirled beyond control, swallowing any plan she tried to form. On and on she ran and leapt, faster and faster, but still fear and shame rode upon her shoulders and tormented her mind. Despite inhabiting the form of a nearly unstoppable monster, despite moving at speeds that surely ran to the triple digits, June felt very much like a lost little girl, and tears leaked from her fierce eyes.
Finally, after what seemed like hours, she stopped. And there, miles and miles away from Seven Falls, she hunched down and sobbed with a force that—even in her immense form—felt like it might break her apart. When no more tears flowed, and the sobs were a dry racking, the anger returned. With towering swings of her arms large trees splintered and toppled, smaller trees flew through the air. Finally, when the anger had been sufficiently vented, June was able to slow down and think. She looked at her paws and they were bloody; she gently licked them and laid down in a grove.
When June startled awake, she hoped it had all been a nightmare. If she opened her eyelids, she would be lying in her bed. But the sounds of the forest, and the hard ground underneath her meant she wasn’t in her bed, and the memories of the last few hours rushed back to her. She wondered whether the police were already out scouring Seven Falls for a monster. She remembered the look on Cordelia’s face when she had destroyed the research in her necklace, and she wondered what had happened to Cordelia when the detective kicked open the door. And she remembered what had started this all: the blasted serum.
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Someone was out there right now with it, and with Mr. Moseley. Someone inside the lab was responsible, someone she knew personally. Someone was going to pay. But there were only three scientists besides Cordelia, and only two of them who could have done it (Aunt Violet couldn’t possibly be involved). Was it Dr. Crushov, or Dr. Chase?
This made it a mystery to solve. But she didn’t want to do it alone, and she didn’t think she would have to. Someone else she knew loved—
June's thoughts were interrupted by a violent rumble in her tummy. Plans would have to wait. She crouched, still as a stone except for her rotating ears. At length she heard what she was waiting for, and in a flash she had the stag in her clutches. The killing was easier than she’d anticipated; her body seemed to know exactly what to do without her consciously guiding it, and it happened so quickly that she told herself the animal didn’t suffer. She ate just enough for her stomach to stop growling, and went to leave but hesitated. If she ate the whole thing, she wouldn’t be hungry for a while. But who knew whether she would burn the calories all off, or regret pigging out later when she had become a normal girl again and had to try to fit into her clothes. Eventually she scooped a little grave with her paws and buried the remains of the stag, having not eaten another bite.
After the burial, she looked down out of habit at her wrist, then frowned. No calculator watch existed that would fit her now. But the angle of the sun, and the yellow, nearly horizontal slanting light that pierced the tree canopy and hit the forest floor, told her that she had slept until late afternoon. Shoot. She only had until midnight to figure out who did this and who had Mr. Moseley. Heading to the research facility empty-handed at midnight would be a last resort. June climbed to the top of the thickest, tallest tree around and looked out. Miles of trees surrounded her, rich shades of greens, reds, yellows, and oranges—from this angle, they looked like rows of fall-colored cotton balls and Q-tips as far as her eyes could see.
Her ears rotated and her whiskers twitched. The breeze carried the scent of smoke and blood. The blood was her fault (the stag), the faintness of the smoke indicating a campfire a few miles or more away. The music of the forest swelled around her. It was better than any orchestra she had ever heard. Even the trees and the rocks sang out and blended with the songs of the animals and insects—it was real and magical, and hidden to all but her. A different world existed in the forest. How could experiencing this be a curse?
As she drifted with the music, a thought formed and manifested into a smile on her face. There was still one person left in the world that she could trust, and he loved mysteries so much he wore the t-shirt to prove it. With that comforting thought, June dropped down and raced in the direction of Seven Falls.