Page 5 of Dreadful
“I’m not leaving without you.”
She rushes back to tug at the brambles, and we fight them for way too long. Sweat seeps down the back of my shirt until we finally both yank hard. The movement hurls me into the dark purple flowers across the path, triggering the motion sensor floodlights.
Angry barking from within the house stops my heart completely.
“Run!” I push off the ground at the sound of my uncle’s vicious guard dogs and grab the girl’s arm. My sweaty fingers slip as I race toward the hole in the wall that she told me about. When we get there, I push aside the flowers covering the hole—
There’s nothing but brick.
“Where is it? Where’s the hole?”
“They’re to the left. Behind the purple tulips and ivy!”
She pushes the flowers and vines aside, revealing small holes that pepper up the ten-foot garden wall.
“You said there was a hole to crawl out of!”
“No, I said there wereholes. We have to climb it.”
“I’m not letting you climb this thing.” I shake my head. “It’s way too high for you!”
“I’ll be fine.”
“But what if you fall?”
“Then catch me!”
Every instinct screams at me not to go first, but there’s no other choice since she needs me to help her. And when my uncle’s three Italian mastiffs escape through their door, we don’t have time to argue about it anymore.
The dogs’ yelps turn high-pitched as they sprint around, searching for us. They snarl and gnash their teeth, ready to tear us limb from limb. I’ve seen them do it, too, so when the girl pushes me to climb, I race up the brick.
“Faster!” she shouts at the top of her lungs. “Catch me on the other side!”
“Found her!” The gardener appears from behind the house and limps in our direction. “Oh, shit, he escaped, too!”
All three dogs turn their heads like one large creature following his movements. Once they find us, they immediately sprint after their prey.
“I’ll be right behind you!” She pushes my feet. “Pleasego!”
I shove my shoes into the small holes so they’ll fit as I climb. By the time I reach the top, the growling dogs thunder beneath me.
Using the fence’s iron spikes that line the top, I haul myself up and straddle the brick. When I’m balanced over the sharp, jagged metal, I reach for the girl’s hand.
But she’s not there.
Her single, sharp shriek makes me jolt and lose my balance. As I tumble over, my leg tears on one of the spikes. The sidewalk comes up fast, and I land ankle-first hard on the concrete. An audible crunch and flash of blinding pain up my shin makes me choke back a scream.
I fight the waves of sick agony as I stand on my good leg. My bones feel like they’re trying to stab through my skin, but I focus all my attention on catching the girl when she jumps.
Her small hand shoves into one of the holes about six feet off the ground. My heartbeat pounds in my ears. The dogs’ snarling grows louder until a bloodcurdling shriek silences the world around me.
Her hand disappears.
A singlethumpon the other side of the fence restarts my heart.
I look inside one of the holes, but I quickly have to turn away at the sight of the dogs ripping their prey apart.
“Boy! Help!”
