AWEN RISING: E9, Chapter Fifteen
Chapter 15, Lost and Found
Hi there, I’m glad you’re here! You have landed on Episode 9 of Awen Rising. If you are beginning the story, or looking for a different episode, follow the links. Otherwise, you’re in the right place. Read on!
Episode One (Chapters 1 - 3)
Episode Two (Chapters 4 - 5)
Episode Three (Chapters 6 - 7)
Episode Four (Chapter 8)
Episode Five (Chapter 9)
Episode Six (Chapters 10 - 11)
Episode Seven (Chapter 12)
Episode Eight (Chapters 13 - 14)
Become a paid member to read Crossed, Cursed, & Nearly Dead*, get a free eBook of Awen Rising, plus access to my growing archives. Also, coming in July—a character list/bios for Awen Rising. *See sneak peek at the end of this episode.
🔍🔍Find the Easter Egg/s and DM me to win 3 paid months🐣🐣
Chapter 15, Lost and Found
The ghostly figures had barely faded when a series of high-pitched yelps exploded from somewhere behind Emily. She scrambled upright, dusting leaves from her clothes, and peered into the dark forest. Fear nibbled at her fragile composure.
She didn’t much care for dogs. In fact, Emily abhorred them. They tended to fall into one of three categories: too accommodating, too needy, or too freaking scary. This one sounded the latter. Just Emily’s luck. That’s the way she had to go.
But where was the trail?
Wishing for the flashlight on the phone she’d inconveniently forgotten, Emily shoved through a tangle of bare bushes and leapt backwards when an automatic light flicked on at her feet. She strangled a scream, heart thudding. But at least she’d found the trail.
She followed the lights toward the barking dog, dread growing with each step. Bare limbs formed an eerie canopy, menacing in a way Emily hadn’t noticed before. Then the heebie jeebies struck, and Emily bolted, grateful for the lights that flicked on at her approach.
The plaintive hoot of an owl made her run faster. But when its blurred outline swept past her overhead , she slowed, half expecting it to morph into a ghost like the animals in the hollow. But it soared toward the road and disappeared with a long, lonely wail that returned to her on the north wind.
As the cry faded, silence descended. When had the dog stopped barking?
Emily stopped, heart pounding. She held her breath to listen, and a loud snuffle came from the bushes to her right. Wheeling, she spied a tall, hairy beast part from the shadows and rear to attack. She juked and backpedaled, but not in time.
Huge paws landed on her shoulders, knocking Emily flat on her back. She yelped, wiggling free, only to be pinned by the determined dog.
“Help!” she croaked, covering her face.
But when the dog slathered Emily's hands in wet kisses instead of ripping her throat out, she squirmed away, rolled to all fours, and jumped upright.
Pointing a shaking finger, she commanded in her sternest voice, “Sit. Stay!”
Miraculously, the dog obeyed. Just then, a kid in a chartreuse ski jacket and stocking cap crashed through the bushes and grabbed the dog’s leash.
“Bad, Cu! Bad! Heel!” the boy scolded, and the dog did. “He didn’t hurt you, did he? I’m sorry. Cu normally wouldn’t hurt a fly. I don’t know what got into him. Are you okay?”
“Just keep that beast away from me.” Emily eyed the tall dog warily.
But when it whined at her forlornly, she touched its wiry hair with a tentative hand. Scratching gently behind one ear, she noted the shaggy face was like that of a terrier. Only this dog was huge in comparison.
“I’m Brian,” the boy said, nose wrinkling. “And this is Cu.”
“I’m Emily,” she replied as the prancing dog pulled them to the road. “Any idea which way Wren’s Lane might be?”
“Thataway.” The boy pointed in the direction Emily would not have guessed—the way she had come. She edged closer to him and away from the dog. It seemed friendly enough, but still.
“Are you sure?”
“Yes. It’s near where I’m staying at my uncle’s house. Me and Cu can show you the way.”
Emily hesitated, but only for a second. “That would be great.”
He might be a kid, but he seemed to know the area. Plus, his dog was scary. It would provide protection through the run-down neighborhood.
Neither of them spoke for the first block, nor the second. But as they crossed to the third, a dog barked in the yard behind them. Cu backpedaled abruptly and galloped to the fence, dragging Brian with him.
A car horn blared, and brakes squealed. Just in time, Emily leapt into the street and shoved Brian out of the way. They landed in a heap on the shoulder of the road. Cu barked angrily after the car that sped up and kept going.
“That idiot almost killed me!”
Brian tried to stand. Instead, he stumbled on the leash around their legs and fell on top of Emily. Cu pounced, licking his face.
“Cu, stop!” Brian giggled.
But his squirming tightened the leash more, and Cu’s warm tongue transferred to Emily’s cheek. She turned her face away, and a sharp pain skewered her chest.
“Be still,” she growled, shielding it with her hand. “We’re tied together, and your elbow’s in my boob.”
Cu danced to the other side, and the leash loosened enough for Emily to get one leg free and then the other. Scrambling to her feet, she extricated Brian. The lanky boy stood, eyes wide in the purple street light, staring after the long-gone car and rubbing his shoulder.
“You okay?” she asked.
“Yeah. No. Cu almost yanked my arm out of the socket.” He bent forward to stretch his back and laughed a little shakily when he came back up. “And my bones are bruised from where you tackled me. How about you?”
She fingered the ribs beneath her sore breast. “I have an elbow-sized dent where you landed on me. But I’m pretty sure nothing’s broken.”
Another car whizzed too fast through the intersection. Emily wrapped her arms around her shoulders. The cold wind penetrated her thin jacket, and her teeth were chattering. She pointed toward Wren’s Roost.
“We’re almost to my house. Come in and let me check you for injuries.”
“Nah.” He tugged a cell phone from his yellow parka and pointed it to the left. “I’m only a coupla blocks that way. I should get back before Uncle Lugh gets home.”
Emily stared at Brian’s wavy black hair and Roman nose. “Is your uncle Lugh MacBrayer?”
The dark eyes grew bigger. “You know Uncle Lugh?”
“I met him today at Jocko’s.” This day had been full of surprises.
“That’s his restaurant,” Brian grinned. “But he’ll freak if I’m not home when he gets there. We’d better get going.”
“Are you sure you’re okay? I can walk you home.”
Maybe she’d get lucky and see Lugh. Too bad she hadn’t known they were kin. She could’ve pressed Brian for details. Like whether his uncle had a girlfriend. Or crap—a wife. Though he hadn’t been wearing a wedding ring. Nor had he acted attached.
“Yeah, I’m good. Thank you for saving me. C’mon, Cu, let’s go.”
For a moment, the hound strained toward Emily, then with a whine, he relented and hurried down the street with Brian. A vague disappointment gnawed at Emily.
“Be careful of cars!” she yelled.
Brian threw up an arm as one zoomed past.
Emily watched him retreat, rubbing her sore breast. Then, turning toward Wren’s Roost, she jogged the last block, wondering what had happened to the scary neighborhood. It had vanished without a trace. Like the singers in the park. And the ghostly animals.
Where had they come from? And where had they gone?
She nearly missed Wren’s Roost’s dark driveway. It had no mailbox or security lights. The tall pines and naked hardwoods loomed overhead, forming a tunnel. Their limbs swayed and creaked in the wind, twanging her nerves.
Shivering, Emily jogged past the brooding main house, then the driveway curved and the carriage house appeared, porch light welcoming. She broke into a sprint, but a enormous striped cat dashed from the woods to stand in the road between her and safety.
“Holy hell!” Emily skidded to a halt. The cat was too big to be domesticated. It had to be a wildcat. But what would a wildcat be doing in the city? Did feral animals live on the estate?
Whatever it was, it held its ground, back arched, and growling low. Emily teetered on her tiptoes, not sure what to do. Then, the cat yowled, ran to the porch, and scampered up the steps to pace the landing, meowing.
Wrapping her hand around the Taser, Emily approached. Instead of bristling, the cat plopped in front of the door and eyed her expectantly as she mounted the steps with caution.
“You’re kinda big for a house cat.”
It purred and set about washing its hindquarters.
“I’m thinking you would attack or run off if you were wild. You must belong to one of the neighbors.” She moved aside and gestured to the driveway. “Shoo! Go on .”
But the striped cat cocked its large head and stared at the door, at Emily, at the door, then back at her again. Like Ralph, when he wanted to be let in. She let go of an exasperated breath.
Getting lost at night had been freaky enough, the spectacle in the clearing more so. She’d been attacked by a dog, saved Lugh MacBrayer’s nephew from death by car, and now the biggest cat she’d ever seen wanted in the carriage house. This, she had control over. Here she drew the line.
“Not even,” she tutted. “Thank you for not attacking me. I’ll bring you some food, but you are not coming in.”
The cat moved to let her retrieve the key from its hiding place.
“Thank you.” She opened the door, and the cat shot through before Emily could react. “What the hell?” she shrieked, chasing after it down the hall.
In the kitchen, she found the cat with its wide nose buried in Ralph’s kibble dish, crunching loudly.
“You can’t be in here,” Emily scolded.
Then Ralph trotted in and spied the interloper. He arched, hissing, hair on end and tail ballooning as he crept closer.
“It’s okay, Bubbe.” She bent to ruffle Ralph’s standing fur. “I think this fella might be lost.”
His growl changed from threatening to annoyed. Ralph sniffed the air around the visitor, not sure whether to attack or just be grumpy. Then the tabby stopped eating and sashayed over.
Ralph hissed and stood his ground. When the tabby crouched and folded its front paws beneath its bulk, Ralph moved between it and the bowl and mirrored the pose. His growl quieted to an anxious hum.
Unperturbed, the cat set about cleaning its massive body, starting with its broad shoulders and back. Ralph mewed a capitulatory sigh but kept his eyes on the interloper, who ignored both human and pet. Like it had more right to be here than they did.
“Oh! Do you live here?” All things being equal, that would be the most likely answer. Maybe the cat belonged to her father. Emily would let it stay the night since it was cold outside. Tomorrow, she would ask if it belonged.
Dressing in the pink-plaid flannel pajamas she’d found in the dresser, Emily slid her feet into matching fuzzy socks. It was ten-fifteen, only seven-fifteen Pacific time, but she was worn ragged and ready for bed. This day had been a doozy.
Her new-found father might not survive the night. Mitchell Wainwright had been a roller-coaster ride, to say the least. And there was a tension present with the rest of the family that ran just beneath the surface. They’d been nice enough…but all was not as it seemed in Atlanta.
Adding wood to the fire, Emily climbed into the high bed, sighing when the mattress cradled her like a cloud. She smoothed the covers until nothing touched her skin but soft flannel, then fluffed her feather pillows.
She powered on the flat-screen TV and ran through the channels with the remote. Nothing caught her interest until she came across a news station showing a powerful storm clobbering the Los Angeles coast.
The runways at LAX were flooded, and the shoreline was under water all the way to Malibu. Emily watched in horror as the storm surge rushed inland to pound Venice Pier, splintering it to smithereens. Then the camera panned to show waves overtaking buildings along the shore.
Emily gasped and sat up when she recognized her apartments. There was her Bottle Brush tree. She leaned toward the screen, recoiling when the sea engulfed them like they weren’t there, then kept going, sweeping toward L.A.
A scrolling list of shelter locations and contact information replaced the devastation, and Emily switched off the TV to hunker beneath the covers, trembling. If she had not agreed to fly out that morning, Emily would probably be dead now, or fighting for her life. She thought of Maude and the other street people of Muscle Beach. She prayed the authorities had evacuated them in time.
A scratch and a thud signaled that Ralph had joined her on the bed. Settling, he kneaded a spot beside Emily’s feet. Already on a slippery emotional slope, she shoved the images from her mind. She couldn’t think about another disaster. Not now.
An ember popped and whistled before settling into the gentle crackle of the fire. Emily concentrated on the shadows that danced on the ceiling. Soon, despite her twanging nerves, a blessed peace filled the room. And little by little, her frame relaxed. Soon, she heaved a sigh of release.
The last few days had been bizarre. Surreal, even. By all accounts, Emily should be dead. But for the first time since Trey’s freak accident, she felt safe. Why had she doubted? Why did she ever?
Ralph settled and purred at her feet. And somehow, Emily knew the big cat in the living room was purring, too.
~ To be continued in Episode 10, Chapter 16, Discovery, posting Monday, July 14, 2025, at 4:44 am MT. I will add a link here once the episode is posted.
From my heart to yours, Olivia/O. J.
Did you know that most of my content is free so that as many as possible can enjoy it? Paid subscriptions, leaving a tip, or buying me a tea are ways you can support me (the author), too. Your generosity is greatly appreciated.❤️
*NOW FOR THAT SNEAK PEEK OF CROSSED, CURSED, & NEARLY DEAD:
