Werewolf Suspense (Book 2): Outage 2 (The Awakening) by T.W. Piperbrook Page B
Authors: T.W. Piperbrook
Tags: Werewolves & Shifters
Ads: Link
something in front of him. He swallowed. The gory remains of the station wagon's occupants could just as easily have been them, had they been outside.
The wind snarled, rattling the windows, misting Tom's view of the scene. When it finally cleared, the beasts had finished their meal. Almost in unison, they spread out across the landscape, heads swiveling in all directions, eyes scouring the street. Several darted for the SUV. Tom's pulse spiked. He watched as they closed the gap with incredible speed, loping on furred, inhuman legs. If he hadn't known better, he would've insisted they'd never been human—creatures that had originated in some faraway place, rather than on Earth.
His eyes roamed to the body by the SUV. The man had sunk further into the snow, but pieces of him remained uncovered. Within seconds the beasts were hovering over him, inspecting the ground. They glanced from the SUV to the body then back again. For a moment, Tom was certain they were constructing the story from the snow. Did they have the ability to reason? Did they have the ability to discern what had happened?
They raised their heads, extended their snouts into the air, and sniffed.
They looked at the building.
Tom and his companions ducked, their breathing rapid and fearful. Tom stared at a spot below the windowsill, his gaze unmoving, as if the slightest bit of motion would draw the creatures near. He listened for any clue as to what the creatures were doing, but heard nothing. The wind gusted. The building creaked. Tom realized he was sweating. Despite the chill in the air, his heart was pounding furiously, warming his upper body. He glanced over at Mark. The man's face was fraught with fear.
After a few torturous moments, Tom clutched the windowsill and pulled himself up. He peered through the glass, inspecting the world an inch at a time. He saw the buildings across the street. The snow blanketed road. The SUV. No sign of the creatures. Where were they? His gaze wandered to the station wagon, then to the opposite end of the road. Nothing.
"Are they gone?" Ashley whispered.
Her words were so meek that for a moment Tom was sure he was imagining them. It wasn't until she asked again that he answered.
"I think so," he said.
One by one his companions resumed their positions. The world outside had returned back to what it was, with the exception of the bloodied bodies and the station wagon.
"Hey, wait a minute," Mark said. "The one I killed is gone."
Tom studied the area by the SUV. Mark was right. The man's body had vanished.
"Where the hell is it?" Tom whispered. He scoured the ground but saw no sign of it.
"Maybe they cleaned up after themselves," Billy offered. "Maybe they're getting rid of the evidence."
"What about the cars? The bodies?" Mark asked.
"I bet they're protecting their own."
Billy's words sent a shudder down Tom's spine. They suggested a level of cunning that was almost as frightening as the beast's primordial nature. He swallowed the thought.
They watched in silence for several minutes, the only sound the occasional creak of their boots. The wind blew in intermittent gusts, rerouting the falling snow. In another scenario, the authorities would arrive soon to take control of the scene, snapping photographs and tagging remains.
The isolation reigned.
A long, triumphant howl sounded in the distance.
Tom considered the way the beasts had torn into the station wagon, the way they'd shattered the windows and ripped the people from inside. "Is there anything else we can use to block the door?" he asked Mark. "Do you think that table saw is enough?"
"We can push a lathe in front of it. Maybe stack some boxes."
"Let's do it." Tom backed away from the window and motioned to Billy and Ashley. "Stay here and keep watch."
He made his way across the room, following Mark's shadowed form. The industrial machines hung like statues in the dark, forcing him to weave around them. Tom only had
The wind snarled, rattling the windows, misting Tom's view of the scene. When it finally cleared, the beasts had finished their meal. Almost in unison, they spread out across the landscape, heads swiveling in all directions, eyes scouring the street. Several darted for the SUV. Tom's pulse spiked. He watched as they closed the gap with incredible speed, loping on furred, inhuman legs. If he hadn't known better, he would've insisted they'd never been human—creatures that had originated in some faraway place, rather than on Earth.
His eyes roamed to the body by the SUV. The man had sunk further into the snow, but pieces of him remained uncovered. Within seconds the beasts were hovering over him, inspecting the ground. They glanced from the SUV to the body then back again. For a moment, Tom was certain they were constructing the story from the snow. Did they have the ability to reason? Did they have the ability to discern what had happened?
They raised their heads, extended their snouts into the air, and sniffed.
They looked at the building.
Tom and his companions ducked, their breathing rapid and fearful. Tom stared at a spot below the windowsill, his gaze unmoving, as if the slightest bit of motion would draw the creatures near. He listened for any clue as to what the creatures were doing, but heard nothing. The wind gusted. The building creaked. Tom realized he was sweating. Despite the chill in the air, his heart was pounding furiously, warming his upper body. He glanced over at Mark. The man's face was fraught with fear.
After a few torturous moments, Tom clutched the windowsill and pulled himself up. He peered through the glass, inspecting the world an inch at a time. He saw the buildings across the street. The snow blanketed road. The SUV. No sign of the creatures. Where were they? His gaze wandered to the station wagon, then to the opposite end of the road. Nothing.
"Are they gone?" Ashley whispered.
Her words were so meek that for a moment Tom was sure he was imagining them. It wasn't until she asked again that he answered.
"I think so," he said.
One by one his companions resumed their positions. The world outside had returned back to what it was, with the exception of the bloodied bodies and the station wagon.
"Hey, wait a minute," Mark said. "The one I killed is gone."
Tom studied the area by the SUV. Mark was right. The man's body had vanished.
"Where the hell is it?" Tom whispered. He scoured the ground but saw no sign of it.
"Maybe they cleaned up after themselves," Billy offered. "Maybe they're getting rid of the evidence."
"What about the cars? The bodies?" Mark asked.
"I bet they're protecting their own."
Billy's words sent a shudder down Tom's spine. They suggested a level of cunning that was almost as frightening as the beast's primordial nature. He swallowed the thought.
They watched in silence for several minutes, the only sound the occasional creak of their boots. The wind blew in intermittent gusts, rerouting the falling snow. In another scenario, the authorities would arrive soon to take control of the scene, snapping photographs and tagging remains.
The isolation reigned.
A long, triumphant howl sounded in the distance.
Tom considered the way the beasts had torn into the station wagon, the way they'd shattered the windows and ripped the people from inside. "Is there anything else we can use to block the door?" he asked Mark. "Do you think that table saw is enough?"
"We can push a lathe in front of it. Maybe stack some boxes."
"Let's do it." Tom backed away from the window and motioned to Billy and Ashley. "Stay here and keep watch."
He made his way across the room, following Mark's shadowed form. The industrial machines hung like statues in the dark, forcing him to weave around them. Tom only had
Similar Books
