ate all my pepperoncini!” How the hell does someone eat a whole jar of the fiery pickled peppers? They were a favorite of hers, but in small doses. She knew the jar had been nearly full because she’d just opened it two nights earlier, eating a small pile of peppers with her pizza. “Hey, does this mean you picked a peck of pickled peppers?” she joked to her unconscious patient, snickering through her nose as she lightened her mood a little.
The juice in the jar sloshed around as it joined the others on the counter. Six in all. But none of the new additions to her shopping list were anything of great nutritional value. She realized he would have been forced to resort to it because she didn’t have very much in the way of fresh food in her fridge. She was content with frozen meals and bowls of cereal. Although cereal appeared to be off the menu since he’d drunk down just about all of her milk.
“No worries. I have powdered. Not the same,” she chattered to her rude and thoughtless guest, “but good enough. And I have duplicates of everything in the garage pantries. Be prepared, that’s my motto. And a good one, too, when you tend to get snowed in a lot in these parts.”
Of course it had more to do with her OCD than it did with genuine preparedness, but she wasn’t going to needle herself with that detail.
After about five minutes of trying to wedge him out from between the counter and the refrigerator, enough to close the refrigerator door, she gave up and realized she was never going to move him unless he woke up to help her. And if all her jostling, shoving, and grunting hadn’t stirred him, then she wasn’t sure she knew what would. She had smelling salts, but she was afraid if sheput ammonia under his nose he would wake up and swat her away, sending her crashing into a wall or something equally as painful. She eyed the fridge and her houseguest alternately for a moment when a brilliant idea came to mind.
CHAPTER SIX
Ahnvil felt as though he were on fire. He was trapped, locked down in this horrifying fire that couldn’t kill him, but burned him straight to the bone over and over again. But something was creeping into his agony, something faint at first, then stronger and stronger, enough to distract him even from his eternal torment.
Then he realized what it was.
Food. Cooking food. Suddenly the fire abated and he realized just how hungry he was. Starving even. Had those who had put him in the fire also been starving him? He couldn’t seem to remember. Was this yet another torture he was going to suffer?
No! He would not let them win. He would not let them trap him and hold him anymore! Never again! And he would kill anything that got in his way!
The big beast in Kat’s kitchen came to with a bloodcurdling roar of what could only be taken as rage. It frightened her so much that she dropped her cooking fork in the heavy cast-iron skillet she was using and ran out of immediate reach. For good measure she leapt up on a countertop, as if he were a mouse or something she could avoid by removing herself from contact with the floor.
He roared again and rolled to his hands and knees, lashing out at the nearest object, her refrigerator door, and nearly ripping it from its hinges.
Hey
, she thought
that’s stainless steel. Don’t hurt it
. She certainly didn’t have the nerve to say it out loud. She didn’t even have the nerve to
think
it with volume.
After a few seconds he seemed to orient himself and he was able to stagger to his feet.
Ta-da!
Her idea had worked! Score one for Team Kat! Again, she was proud of herself, but not enough to say so with, like, spoken words or visible emotions. She was trying too hard not to be noticeable. She was small. Small enough to go unnoticed if she played her cards right. When his back was fully to her she pulled her legs up and balled herself on top of the counter.
Ahnvil was barely aware of where he was. He had no interest in the details. Not really.
The juice in the jar sloshed around as it joined the others on the counter. Six in all. But none of the new additions to her shopping list were anything of great nutritional value. She realized he would have been forced to resort to it because she didn’t have very much in the way of fresh food in her fridge. She was content with frozen meals and bowls of cereal. Although cereal appeared to be off the menu since he’d drunk down just about all of her milk.
“No worries. I have powdered. Not the same,” she chattered to her rude and thoughtless guest, “but good enough. And I have duplicates of everything in the garage pantries. Be prepared, that’s my motto. And a good one, too, when you tend to get snowed in a lot in these parts.”
Of course it had more to do with her OCD than it did with genuine preparedness, but she wasn’t going to needle herself with that detail.
After about five minutes of trying to wedge him out from between the counter and the refrigerator, enough to close the refrigerator door, she gave up and realized she was never going to move him unless he woke up to help her. And if all her jostling, shoving, and grunting hadn’t stirred him, then she wasn’t sure she knew what would. She had smelling salts, but she was afraid if sheput ammonia under his nose he would wake up and swat her away, sending her crashing into a wall or something equally as painful. She eyed the fridge and her houseguest alternately for a moment when a brilliant idea came to mind.
CHAPTER SIX
Ahnvil felt as though he were on fire. He was trapped, locked down in this horrifying fire that couldn’t kill him, but burned him straight to the bone over and over again. But something was creeping into his agony, something faint at first, then stronger and stronger, enough to distract him even from his eternal torment.
Then he realized what it was.
Food. Cooking food. Suddenly the fire abated and he realized just how hungry he was. Starving even. Had those who had put him in the fire also been starving him? He couldn’t seem to remember. Was this yet another torture he was going to suffer?
No! He would not let them win. He would not let them trap him and hold him anymore! Never again! And he would kill anything that got in his way!
The big beast in Kat’s kitchen came to with a bloodcurdling roar of what could only be taken as rage. It frightened her so much that she dropped her cooking fork in the heavy cast-iron skillet she was using and ran out of immediate reach. For good measure she leapt up on a countertop, as if he were a mouse or something she could avoid by removing herself from contact with the floor.
He roared again and rolled to his hands and knees, lashing out at the nearest object, her refrigerator door, and nearly ripping it from its hinges.
Hey
, she thought
that’s stainless steel. Don’t hurt it
. She certainly didn’t have the nerve to say it out loud. She didn’t even have the nerve to
think
it with volume.
After a few seconds he seemed to orient himself and he was able to stagger to his feet.
Ta-da!
Her idea had worked! Score one for Team Kat! Again, she was proud of herself, but not enough to say so with, like, spoken words or visible emotions. She was trying too hard not to be noticeable. She was small. Small enough to go unnoticed if she played her cards right. When his back was fully to her she pulled her legs up and balled herself on top of the counter.
Ahnvil was barely aware of where he was. He had no interest in the details. Not really.
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