Werewolf Suspense (Book 2): Outage 2 (The Awakening) by T.W. Piperbrook

storm, they'd need to be prepared.
    "Are there any other weapons in here?" he asked Mark.
    Mark shook his head. "I have some tools. But they won't be much defense against the things. The only thing I'm sure of is this." He held up his rifle. "Why don't we load yours with the ammunition I have left? Is that a .22?"
    Tom nodded. "Yes, it's an older one. With a tubular magazine."
    Billy handed over the rifle, and Mark loaded it with the remaining bullets he'd gotten from Colton. He handed the weapon to Tom. When Mark was finished, there were six rounds in the gun—not enough to make Tom feel safe, but definitely an improvement.
    "I should've listened and taken the rest of Colton's ammunition." Mark sighed. "But I didn't want to acknowledge what he was saying. I thought I was helping him by ignoring him."
    "Where does he live?"
    "Over on Chestnut Street. Number twenty-three. It's a yellow house at the end of the cul-de-sac, a good eight miles away on the other side of town. He said his basement was filled with supplies."  
    "Dammit."
    "If we were closer, we might have a chance at getting them. But I don't think we should risk going out there. I think we're better off hunkering down in here." Mark set the flashlight on the floor next to him.  
    Tom recalled how he'd seen the light earlier, and felt a surge of gratitude.
    "I saw the light before we crashed," Tom said.
    "I was trying to signal you," Mark explained. "I saw the creature coming up behind you and knew you'd need help. Thank God it worked out."
    "I appreciate it," Tom said again. "If you hadn't shot that thing, I don't know where we'd be."
    The group fell silent, listening to the keening wind and the creak of the old building. The air grew colder by the minute. Without the distraction of conversation, Tom felt the chill of the building working through his joints, numbing his fingers and toes. He was gloveless. His boots were filled with ice.  
    He stared out the frosted windows, taking in the parking lot and the road. Spirals of smoke still wafted from the SUV. The dead man-beast lay nearby. The body was covered in a thin layer of snow, partially buried by the elements. Tom wondered how long it would take until the man was fully covered.
    The parking lot across the street was deep and wide and filled with snow. The buildings were lifeless. Tom stared at each of them as if for the first time. The storm had painted them with a thick white brush. All of them looked the same. Tom's eyes started to glaze. The longer he stared, he started seeing things: creatures in every doorway, faces in every grime-covered window. He blinked to rid himself of the images.  
    After a few moments, he peered into the room behind him, acquainting himself with the building. He recalled the stairs they'd traveled to get here.
    "How many floors are in this building? Three?" he whispered to Mark.    
    "Yes. We're on the top floor," Mark affirmed.
    "How many exits?"
    "Four—two in the back, one on the side, and one in the front. I blocked all of them after what happened to Colton. The only way out is the way you came in. I left the garage unblocked so I could get to my truck as a last resort."
    "Do you think it'll drive if we need it?"
    "Not likely." Mark gave a grim smile, his stubble-covered face illuminated by the light of the window. "That truck is hard to start on a good day. I don't think it'd get far in this weather. Besides, driving a vehicle out there is the equivalent of wearing a bull's-eye."
    Tom nodded, noting his downed SUV. Even his vehicle—newer and more reliable than the truck—had barely navigated the deep snow. Mark was probably right. The best option was to stay put. If they could outlast the storm, someone would drive by eventually. Help would come.
    It had to come.
    They hung near to the window, keeping a watchful eye but maintaining their distance from the panes. Out of the corner of his eye, Tom saw Billy hugging Ashley, assuring her things would be all right.
    He