breed with a square head and big teeth, snarling at them.
The pack had found their way inside.
Chapter Five
Eden grabbed for her holster, but Aaron caught her wrist, dragging her behind him and shoving her toward the door leading to the living room. This damned house had an open floor plan, no doors to close between them and the dogs—because now she could see there were more than one.
“Back door,” he said over his shoulder, his attention not leaving the approaching animals.
God, they could spring at any moment, and if they did, Aaron was certain to be bitten. His gun was drawn, so she drew hers, too, as she moved quickly toward the back of the house. Why were there no doors between rooms in this house?
Finally they got to the back door to find it jammed, even when she shoved all her weight against it. He edged past her and tried it too.
“Garage,” he said, shoving her toward the other side of the house as the dogs—she couldn’t see how many in the dark—approached, growling, setting every hair on edge.
She eased toward the garage when she wanted to run, but remembered her father’s lectures that running from a dog was the worst thing. Still, her muscles screamed in protest with the need to put as much distance between herself and danger as she could.
Steps led to the garage door and she mounted them. To her relief, the door swung inward. She grabbed the back of Aaron’s shirt and dragged him with her, slamming the door just as the first dog sprang. She felt the vibration of the dog hitting the door as she leaned against it, catching her breath. The growling and slavering on the other side sent ice through her body, but she dared not leave the door. She didn’t know how secure it was.
“Can it lock?” Aaron asked, beside her, and flicked on his flashlight to inspect the handle.
Unable to find a lock, he cast the beam about the garage.
She gasped and he whistled low.
Glass eyes glinted around them, staring out of the half-stuffed taxidermied bodies of bobcats, birds, even a coyote. Torturous looking implements hung neatly on the wall above the creatures.
“Think there’s another way out?” she asked.
He grinned. “Kinda creepy, aren’t they? But better company than our friends on the other side of the door.”
That were still trying to get through. They were clawing at the door now, more than one, working as a pack to get through to them. And the door was hollow, so it was only a matter of time.
Aaron moved away, beam of light bouncing, and dragged a rolling metal tool box against the door. He kicked at the wheel until it bent, then did the same with the other.
“That’ll hold while we move this.” He motioned for her to grab one side of the washing machine. He unplugged it, unhooked the hose and together they walked it over to stand against the tool chest. He stepped back. “It won’t hold them for long,” he muttered.
The garage door was electric, naturally, and there were no windows or no other door. He dragged the light beam across the ceiling as the wood of the door cracked.
“There,” he said, pointing to a square of wood. “We’re going up.”
The growling was louder as the dogs ripped through the second layer of wood, tearing at it with their snouts and claws. She and Aaron propped the ladder against the opening above, and she scrambled up first, at his insistence, and shoved the square of wood to the side. It was a small storage space, filled with plastic totes, probably Christmas ornaments or something, and roach droppings. Ick. The scent was overpowering, but she scooted away from the door to make room for Aaron, just as the dogs ripped through the door and the first one bounded inside, standing on the tool chest and snarling.
“Holy shit,” Aaron breathed. “Too fucking close.”
“Will they go away? When they realize they can’t get us?”
“I don’t know.”
The lead dog spotted them
The pack had found their way inside.
Chapter Five
Eden grabbed for her holster, but Aaron caught her wrist, dragging her behind him and shoving her toward the door leading to the living room. This damned house had an open floor plan, no doors to close between them and the dogs—because now she could see there were more than one.
“Back door,” he said over his shoulder, his attention not leaving the approaching animals.
God, they could spring at any moment, and if they did, Aaron was certain to be bitten. His gun was drawn, so she drew hers, too, as she moved quickly toward the back of the house. Why were there no doors between rooms in this house?
Finally they got to the back door to find it jammed, even when she shoved all her weight against it. He edged past her and tried it too.
“Garage,” he said, shoving her toward the other side of the house as the dogs—she couldn’t see how many in the dark—approached, growling, setting every hair on edge.
She eased toward the garage when she wanted to run, but remembered her father’s lectures that running from a dog was the worst thing. Still, her muscles screamed in protest with the need to put as much distance between herself and danger as she could.
Steps led to the garage door and she mounted them. To her relief, the door swung inward. She grabbed the back of Aaron’s shirt and dragged him with her, slamming the door just as the first dog sprang. She felt the vibration of the dog hitting the door as she leaned against it, catching her breath. The growling and slavering on the other side sent ice through her body, but she dared not leave the door. She didn’t know how secure it was.
“Can it lock?” Aaron asked, beside her, and flicked on his flashlight to inspect the handle.
Unable to find a lock, he cast the beam about the garage.
She gasped and he whistled low.
Glass eyes glinted around them, staring out of the half-stuffed taxidermied bodies of bobcats, birds, even a coyote. Torturous looking implements hung neatly on the wall above the creatures.
“Think there’s another way out?” she asked.
He grinned. “Kinda creepy, aren’t they? But better company than our friends on the other side of the door.”
That were still trying to get through. They were clawing at the door now, more than one, working as a pack to get through to them. And the door was hollow, so it was only a matter of time.
Aaron moved away, beam of light bouncing, and dragged a rolling metal tool box against the door. He kicked at the wheel until it bent, then did the same with the other.
“That’ll hold while we move this.” He motioned for her to grab one side of the washing machine. He unplugged it, unhooked the hose and together they walked it over to stand against the tool chest. He stepped back. “It won’t hold them for long,” he muttered.
The garage door was electric, naturally, and there were no windows or no other door. He dragged the light beam across the ceiling as the wood of the door cracked.
“There,” he said, pointing to a square of wood. “We’re going up.”
The growling was louder as the dogs ripped through the second layer of wood, tearing at it with their snouts and claws. She and Aaron propped the ladder against the opening above, and she scrambled up first, at his insistence, and shoved the square of wood to the side. It was a small storage space, filled with plastic totes, probably Christmas ornaments or something, and roach droppings. Ick. The scent was overpowering, but she scooted away from the door to make room for Aaron, just as the dogs ripped through the door and the first one bounded inside, standing on the tool chest and snarling.
“Holy shit,” Aaron breathed. “Too fucking close.”
“Will they go away? When they realize they can’t get us?”
“I don’t know.”
The lead dog spotted them
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