Page 45 of The Dire Reaction

“I will make it my personal responsibility to warm you up if you get cold.” His hand is hot when he rests it on my thigh, his pinky brushing against the apex of my legs, sending a shiver of electricity through me.

When I rest my hand over his, it’s one of those moments when you realize you’re comfortable. I like how good it feels to have him touching me. To have him here makes me feel a little safer.

A flicker of movement has me rocketing up in the seat, just in time for the seat belt to tighten hard against me as Sam slams on the brakes. His hand flies up, bracing my shoulder, holding me from lurching forward.

“What the shit?” he exhales.

Two of the dogs are in front of us, running at a mad pace along the road. One seems to be chasing the other, nipping at the heels of the first. They pass in front of a Jeep, parked to the side. They’re taller than the hood. Huge doesn’t begin to describe them. They are big and muscular, like a Great Dane and a Mastiff had a baby and it grew twice as large as either of them. Broad chests, powerful shoulders, long legged, andfast.My guess is they’re easily passing forty miles an hour because they’re eating up the ground in a blur. They’re more like small horses. Terrifying, powerful, predator horses.

As they draw closer, I’m struggling to see anything human in them. Fully furred, markings like a coyote, they look completely like dogs. Were they really people? I just don’t even understand how they could have been.

That’s when I see it. I’m going to be sick; my stomach cramps with a wave of nausea. Bile lodges in my throat when I see what they are fighting over. Hanging from the mouth of the lead dog looks to be a human leg. A small human leg. It’s hard to tell exactly how old the owner was, but it wasn’t an adult.

“Oh, fuck. We need to get in and get gone.” Sam downshifts and punches the accelerator. The truck lurches forward, pushing me back against the worn seat.

“I can’t believe it. This is insane. How could people do that?” My head is still reeling as I direct him the last few turns to my street. The parking lot in front of the apartment building is three-quarters full, but my designated spot is open.

As the engine rumbles to a stop Sam reaches out and puts his hand on my arm. “Before you open the doors, I think those dogs are dogs. I don’t think they’re people anymore. If you see one, don’t try to reason with it. Shoot at it, and get the fuck away.” He glances around through the windows before meeting my eyes again. “You know how we’re hungrier now? I bet they’re fucking starving. Please, be careful and stay close.”

He’s right. I offer him a small nod of acceptance. I took a couple of semesters on wild animals, thinking I wanted to work with a zoo some day. Wolves are smart and eerily intelligent. They’re a force to be reckoned with as a pack.

“Do you think they’ve learned how to work together?” I muse as we hurry to the main entrance of the building.

“From what I saw there, it didn’t look like it. But, it’d be fucking terrifying if they did.” Sam carries his pistol low, but drawn. His eyes are bright blue as he watches around us while I push the door open.

The small foyer is empty except for the wall of brass mailboxes and the concrete stairs leading to the second floor. Our shoes seem to boom with every step going up the stairs.

Crying echoes down the hall. I can hear people behind the doors talking in urgent tones. Many are discussing leaving.

The sour smell of decomposition seeps under one of the doors we pass, gagging us in its pungency.

My neighbor’s door has an odor emanating, too. A dank heavy smell of urine and feces. Metallic overtones remind me of the raw steaks we had last night before Sam cooked them. The blanket of ammonia rips my sinuses apart as I slide my key into my door.

Stepping quickly down the small hall, Sam follows right behind me. He brushes the door as he passes, and the knob bounces lightly against the wall.

We both freeze when we hear a low whine emanating through the wall, followed by a scratching sound.

“Hurry!” he whispers, pushing the door closed behind him.

My apartment isn’t big, and it takes only a few rushed steps to get to my bedroom. Grabbing a duffle bag from my closet, I frantically start tossing clothes from my drawers into it. Practical choices, jeans, shirts, sweatshirts, coat, boots.

The scratching sound grows more persistent, combining with a low growl.

My apartment isn’t fancy. The walls aren’t thick to start with. I think the exterior is cinderblock, but the interior is just wood and sheetrock. I know, because I accidentally put a hole in it once when my desk chair tipped over.

I lug the heavy bag over to Sam who’s busy staring at the living room wall where the sounds are centered. A heavy thump rocks the pictures on my wall. Another makes the framed picture of my college graduation day fall to the floor and the glass shatters.

We both freeze and stare at each other, Sam breaking the moment by giving me a wind up gesture with his hand.

Darting to the bathroom, I start throwing my toiletries into an empty garbage bag. A heavy gnashing sound comes from the living room.

“Dani!” Sam calls in a loud whisper. “We need to go NOW!” Rushing from the bathroom with my bag, he’s standing with his pistol pointing at the wall where there’s a large vertical gash in the sheetrock. Another thump and a gray claw busts through the slash, pulling and tearing at the crumbling wall.

The smell rolling from the shredded hole curls around my throat, defiling it until my stomach begins to spasm. I am fighting to keep from expelling my breakfast as I push past him for the door. It stinks like the animals we’ve had come through the clinic from hoarding situations, ones caked in rot and filth.

I’m nearly out into the hall before I remember my laptop. I need that. It has not only work information and research, but it also has photos of my dad.

When I stop mid-stride, Sam nearly knocks me over. “Keep going. We gotta get this door shut!” He pushes me into the hall, tossing my bag down so he can pull the heavy door shut behind him.

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