Jacob disliked homework, brussels sprouts, and cats, but nothing came close to how much he hated his 15th birthday present. Now that he was a man in the eyes of the tribe, he was forced to spend four nights each month patrolling La Push and the surrounding woods. It was his "sacred duty" to protect the Quileutes from danger while they slept. As to what that danger was, Jacob had no idea. Knowing the Elders it was probably vampires, werewolves, or some other superstitious nonsense. Why couldn't they just hire the Ghostbusters and let him sleep?

Jacob hesitated for a second before entering the woods. He wasn't afraid of the woods, that would be ridiculous. He spent entire there summers hiking and playing cowboys and Indians with his friends. (The Indians always won.) No one ever encountered anything more dangerous than poison ivy and deer. Nevertheless, Jacob turned on his flashlight and made sure his walky-talky was at full battery. If Boy Scouts taught him anything it was to always be prepared. Going into the woods at night was far more dangerous than a casual daytime walk.

Jacob shivered and wrapped his scarf around his face. He'd hated that neon orange wool abomination at first, but the cold December air made him glad for grandma Black's knitting obsession. Looking like a traffic cone was a small price to pay to avoid hypothermia. Jacob felt something wet hit his forehead and looked up at the sky. Just as he feared, it was starting to rain. Even granda's warmest scarf wouldn't be able to save him this time

In less than a minute, Jacob was soaked to the bone. Why did he always get stuck with the worst possible weather? Sam Uley didn't even have to patrol anymore. Can't have the captain of the basketball team catching a cold with a state championship on the line. Jacob still had another hour left but decided enough was enough. No one was awake to witness him heading home a little early. While the legend of the cold ones was imaginary, the threat of cold was real. He wasn't going to spend the next month in bed because the elders were worried about vampires attacking the town.

Hoping to save a few minutes, Jacob decided to wade across the creek rather than double back towards the bridge. He was already wet and cold. A late-night dip wouldn't do any harm. He had made it across without incident when he heard a moan. Whatever animal made that sound was clearly in pain. He'd come back to look in the morning, but suspected nature would have already taken its course. The woods weren't a kind place for injured animals.

Jacob heard another moan. It could have been his imagination, but he could have sworn it sounded like a cry for help. He touched the wolf pendant dangling from his neck and remembered those who had come before him. The Quileute were fierce warriors who never let fear stand in the way of protecting their tribe. They didn't back down when rival tribes waged war or when white men came with guns. If there was any chance that cry was human, it was Jacob's duty to investigate. Doing anything else would be a disgrace to his ancestors. Without wasting a single second more, Jacob raced off in the direction the sound had come from.

Jacob scrambled towards the creek, Ice and mud make it nearly impossible to remain upright. Hunter's Creek, usually no more than a foot deep, was now 6 feet of swirling black water. The moans became softer and further apart. Whoever was making that sound was fading fast.

"Hello!" Jacob called. "Is there anyone out there?"

Jacob scanned the edge of the creek. He noticed a child lying face down in the mud. He raced to the child's side and flipped her over. He'd been mistaken. It was a scrawny teenage girl. She was bleeding from her forehead and a deep cut in her leg. She was breathing and appeared to have a heartbeat, but didn't respond to his touch. Jacob knew he had to get help fast.

Not wanting to wait for an ambulance, Jacob picked the woman up. Although she appeared to be in her mid-teens, she couldn't have weighed more than 110 pounds. He could feel each rib through the thin fabric of her t-shirt. Why on earth had she gone into the woods dressed like that? Her skin was cold as ice. Jacob hoped he hadn't found her too late. He would never complain about patrolling again.