Late in the morning, under a cloudy dark sky, Jack Pine hiked up the mountain at the edge of Moon Valley. The air felt heavy, electric with the promise of a storm, but that hadn't deterred him. These solitary hikes had become his ritual since moving here three months ago—a way to prepare for the grinding monotony of his job at the industrial district near Moon Lake.

  His boots crunched over loose gravel as he navigated the switchbacks of Blackridge Trail. Each step took him higher, away from the predictable rhythms of small-town life that he'd initially sought to escape but now embraced. The irony wasn't lost on him.

  "Small-town living," he muttered, adjusting his daypack straps. "Better than advertised."

  Jack paused at a steep bend, pretending it was to admire the view rather than catch his breath. From this vantage point, Moon Valley spread beneath him like a diorama—downtown cutting through the center with its brick storefronts and Victorian-era lampposts, Moon Lake glittering to the east despite the cloud cover, and the high school football field touching the dark woods near Blackwood Park and the parking lot.

  He took a long pull from his water bottle and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. There was something about this place that didn't quite fit the postcard image it projected. Something in the way old-timers would suddenly go silent when certain topics arose. Something in the way people's eyes would slide away when he asked about the abandoned mine on the north ridge or why nobody ever swam in the deepest part of the lake.

  "Just superstitious nonsense," Sheriff Tumblerlee had told him when Jack mentioned it after one too many beers at O'Malley's. "Every small town's got its ghost stories." But the sheriff's eyes had done that slide-away thing, too.

  The wind picked up as Jack continued his ascent, weaving through a grove of aspen trees whose leaves trembled in the breeze. Their constant motion always put him on edge, like they were whispering secrets just beyond his hearing. By the time he reached the clearing near the summit, his calves burned with exertion, but the panoramic view made it worthwhile.

  From here, he could see beyond Moon Valley to the neighboring towns that dotted the valley floor—Little Creek to the south, Pinehaven to the west. The industrial district where he worked was visible too, a gray blot marring the otherwise picturesque landscape.

  Jack dropped his pack and stretched, rotating his shoulders to work out the kinks. Despite the cloudy sky, the visibility was exceptional today. He pulled out his phone to check the time—11:15 AM. No signal, of course. Another charming feature of Moon Valley's geography—cell coverage disappeared once you left the town limits.

  He was about to sit on a nearby boulder when he felt it—a vibration. Not from the ground, but from the air itself. A low, pulsing hum that seemed to come from everywhere and nowhere at once. The hair on his arms stood on end.

  "What the hell..."

  The clouds overhead shifted, swirling in a circular pattern directly above the clearing. The humming intensified until it was almost painful, vibrating in his chest cavity. Jack stood transfixed, unable to move as the clouds parted and something emerged.

  At first, it was just a dark shape, indistinct against the churning sky. Then it descended lower, revealing itself to be a massive, disc-shaped object. Its surface was smooth and metallic, reflecting what little sunlight penetrated the cloud cover. It hovered silently, emanating an aura of otherworldly power.

  Jack tried to back away, but his legs wouldn't cooperate. His heart hammered against his ribs as the object positioned itself directly above him. A seam appeared on its underside, and from it, a beam of brilliant blue-white light shot down, enveloping him completely.

  The world around him disappeared. The mountain, the trees, Moon Valley itself—all gone, replaced by an endless field of light. Jack felt his feet leave the ground, his body lifting upward against his will. He tried to scream, but no sound came out. His mind raced with panicked thoughts: This can't be happening. This isn't real. This can't be real.

  But it was real. As real as the ground that was now twenty feet below him. As real as the massive object pulling him inexorably upward.

  A part of his brain detached from the panic, observing with clinical precision: I'm being abducted. By aliens. This is actually happening.

  As the beam drew him closer to the craft, Jack caught glimpses of the world below—the mountain range stretching into the distance, Moon Valley nestled in its embrace, oblivious to what was happening above. He wondered if anyone would notice he was missing. If anyone would believe what had happened even if he told them.

  When the opening in the craft's underside was just feet away, a new thought struck him with terrifying clarity: This might be the last time I will be on Earth.

  *****

  The final bell of Thursday afternoon tore through the hallways of Moon Valley High, prompting a collective sigh of relief from students eager to escape. Jessica Tumblerlee yanked her calculus textbook from her locker, flinching as the metal door squeaked in protest.

  "Careful there, Barbie Doll. Some of us value our hearing," said Salina Carpenter, materializing beside her. Despite her all-black attire and the dramatic smoky eyeshadow that made her dark eyes pop against her pale skin, sweat glistened on her forehead from the rigorous cheerleading practice they'd just endured.

  Stolen novel; please report.

  Jessica rolled her shoulders, feeling the pleasant burn of exertion. "Practice was brutal today. Coach Harris is determined to perfect that pyramid before the rally."

  "We would've nailed it if someone hadn't wobbled during the third transition," Jessica added, shooting Salina a pointed look.

  Salina's dark-painted lips curved into a defensive frown. "My hand slipped. Sue me for being human." She paused, her expression shifting to something more mischievous. "Well, mostly human, anyway."

  "Keep your voice down," Jessica hissed, glancing around the emptying hallway. Her blonde hair swung as she checked for eavesdroppers. "And anyway, you promised you'd practice that grip."

  "I did practice. But unlike some people, I don't have supernatural reflexes to rely on," Salina retorted, though without real malice.

  Jessica sighed. Despite their apparent differences—Jessica with her bright white and purple Mighty Wolves uniform and Salina with her combat boots and spiked choker worn defiantly with the same uniform—they shared a bond deeper than school politics could touch.

  "We both reek," Salina observed, wrinkling her nose. "Locker room showers?"

  Jessica nodded, grateful for the change of subject. "Totally.”

  The girls made their way to the locker room, which was already emptying as most students rushed home. Under the lukewarm spray of the communal showers, Jessica felt some of her tension wash away with the sweat and glitter from practice.

  "You're still mad about the wobble, aren't you?" Salina called from the adjacent shower stall, her voice echoing slightly.

  Jessica worked shampoo through her hair. "I'm not mad. I'm concerned. The full moon's tomorrow night, Salina. If I lose focus during a stunt because I'm worried about you falling—"

  "You won't have to worry," Salina interrupted. "I'll nail it tomorrow. Promise."

  As they toweled off and changed into fresh clothes—jeans and a light sweater for Jessica, black ripped jeans and a band t-shirt for Salina—their argument faded into comfortable bickering about Coach Harris's increasingly impossible standards.

  "I swear he thinks we're Olympic gymnasts instead of high school cheerleaders," Salina grumbled, lacing up her boots.

  Jessica zipped her gym bag closed. "Well, we did place second at State last year."

  "Only because you literally growled at Westlake High's captain and scared her into messing up their finale," Salina reminded her with a smirk.

  "That was an accident," Jessica protested, though a smile tugged at her lips at the memory.

  They exited the locker room into the now-quiet hallway, their wet hair leaving damp patches on their shoulders. The late afternoon sun slanted through the windows, painting golden rectangles on the linoleum floor.

  "There you are!"

  Kevin Lebowski hurried toward them, arms laden with books, glasses slightly askew on his narrow face. Despite the warm day, he wore his usual button-up shirt and khakis, looking more like a young teacher than a high school junior.

  "We were starting to think you'd barricaded yourself in the library again," Salina teased.

  Kevin adjusted his glasses with his one free finger. "Very funny. Actually, I was talking to Mr. Reynold about my astronomy assignment." He lowered his voice, glancing around the empty hallway. "I need a favor from both of you."

  Jessica immediately tensed. Kevin's "favors" had a way of complicating her already complicated life.

  "What kind of favor?" she asked cautiously.

  "I need to observe the meteor shower tonight for my project, and Blackwood Park has the perfect clearing away from the town's light pollution." Kevin's eyes shone with enthusiasm behind his glasses. "It would be the perfect place for you to, you know, stretch your legs a bit before tomorrow's full moon. Plus, I could really use the company. There's a reason they call it Blackwood."

  Salina raised an eyebrow. "You want to go into the allegedly haunted woods, where things go bump in the night?”

  "When you put it like that, it sounds..." Kevin began.

  "Incredibly stupid?" Jessica supplied.

  "I was going to say 'scientifically fascinating,'" Kevin corrected. "Look, I need a good grade for this, or else Mr. Reynold will bite my head off. Plus, safety in numbers, right?"

  "We'll be the ones keeping you safe, science boy," Salina pointed out.

  Jessica chewed her lower lip, considering. The restlessness had been building all day—a familiar itch beneath her skin, a heightened awareness of sounds and smells, the way her temper flared at the smallest provocation. A run through the woods might help take the edge off.

  "What if someone sees us?" she asked.

  Kevin had clearly expected this objection. "The clearing is half a mile from the main trail. Nobody goes there this time of year, especially on a weeknight."

  Salina placed a hand on Jessica's shoulder. "He's got a point, wolf girl. Better to burn off some energy tonight than risk an incident at school tomorrow."

  Jessica sighed, knowing when outnumbered. "Fine. But we stick together, and I'm bringing extra clothes this time." The memory of having to sprint home half-naked after her last unexpected transformation still made her cringe.

  "Yes!" Kevin pumped his fist in victory. "Meet at the north entrance at eight? I'll bring my telescope and star charts."

  "I'll bring snacks and some calming herbs," Salina added. "Just in case."

  As they completed their plans, Jessica felt that familiar mixture of dread and anticipation. For most teenagers, the full moon meant nothing more than a brighter night sky. For her, it meant confronting the beast that had taken residence inside her since that fateful night in the woods three months ago.

  At least she wouldn't face it alone. Between Kevin's analytical mind and Salina's knowledge of the supernatural, she had found unlikely allies in her new reality. Friends who saw beyond the perky cheerleader fa?ade to the complex creature beneath.

  "Eight o'clock," Jessica confirmed, already mentally composing the text to her father. Studying with friends. Home by eleven.

  It wasn't entirely a lie. They would be studying—just not calculus or English lit. And if they were lucky, the only howls in Blackwood Park tonight would be from the distant coyotes, not from the sheriff's daughter trying desperately to hold on to her humanity under the waxing moon.