Page 9 of Deadfall

The pain was unimaginable—white hot—it took over every physical sensation I had. Blood dripped into my eyes and the world turned red. So much red. Why did my heart hurt if he only dragged the blade down my face?

“I love you…” He choked.

I didn’t know what that meant. The clearing blurred and I stared down the barrel of a gun.

Albatron.

Every hair stood on end as chills took over my entire body and I knew in that moment—I was going to die. There was a ringing in my ears and my entire world narrowed as I watched his finger pull the trigger.

Dad! Where are you? Please…

His features solidified for only a moment and imprinted in my mind the last expression I ever saw on his face: complete devastation. My strong unwavering safe haven, broken, crumbled to ruin.

He couldn’t save me.

The feeling of betrayal cut deep and broke my heart into a thousand tiny little pieces.

Daddy, please…

The red deepened to black and I sank thankfully into the shadows. The smell of flames and blood wrapped around me in the dark, and anguish and loss smothered me until I simply stopped breathing.

A soft snuffling pushed hair across my forehead. I jerked awake, completely disoriented. Gold eyes met mine. I yelped in surprise and jerked backward as the head of a wolf filled my vision. I scrambled away at the glint of teeth, but my legs got tangled and I didn’t get far. I cringed, convinced the beast was there to finish me off, my dream still viscerally real.

But instead, a warm and very wet tongue licked a stripe across my jaw. I heard a scoff and my eyes shot open. I was suddenly very, very aware I wasn’t outside. Instead of roots, my legs were tangled in sheets, and it wasn’t quite a wolf sitting in front of me, but a very giant dog.

“He won’t hurt you.”

I looked over the animal’s shoulder and noticed I was in a cabin before I settled on the next potential threat—a man. He stood in a small kitchen area, slowly cutting up a loaf of bread. At the sight of the knife, I tensed so hard my jaw ground together. I clutched the blanket and willed my hands to stop shaking. The man was old enough to be my grandfather, but there was nothing frail about him. The wilderness had honed him and despite the lines on his face, his gnarled, sun-kissed hands were steady with the blade.

A soft thumping sound drew my eyes back to the wolf-dog whose tail beat a gentle rhythm against the wood floorboards. He inched his head forward and rested it on the pillow. Liquid gold eyes looked up at me, wide and obviously begging for something.

“He’s an absolute menace for ear scratches,” the man said, his accent clearly Russian.

I was still stiff with anxiety, and my attention bounced from the dog to the man and back again. I forced my hand to slowly move toward the dog. I heard his tail beat faster as my fingers inched closer until he was practically vibrating. I slid my fingers through coarse fur to the back of his ear, and tentatively gave him a few scratches. A whine escaped, and in a blur of grey and black he was suddenly on the bed, wriggling and twisting to try and fit his entire huge frame into my lap.

“He likes you.”

I jumped and looked up, startled to see the man was closer now. Memories assaulted me, but they were fragmented and made my head hurt worse.

“Holy shit, man, she’s alive!”

“What do you mean alive?”

“I mean she’s fucking still breathing, shit head!”

The car jolted as tires moved off smooth pavement to a dirt and gravel shoulder. Brakes locked and the vehicle skidded to a stop, throwing me forward into—what was I lying on?

Oh fuck, fuck fuck—I was lying on a body, several bodies actually—

I don’t remember getting brought to this cabin, but I do remember escaping the car with all the dead bodies. I shuddered and wondered what my fate would have been if I hadn’t managed to get away. I hoped I hadn’t escaped one fire just to end up in another.

I fought to steady my breathing as my nerves fired and I gripped the dog tightly, thankful for the barrier. Fear burned through me as I studied the man for any indication he was going to hurt me. My face throbbed and I winced—reminded that the nightmare I’d just woken up from had in fact been very real and not just in my dreams. I raised my hand and gently slid it over the cut where I felt stitches, and further up to my head where a fresh bandage was wrapped snug and clean.

The man snapped his fingers and the dog untangled himself from my lap and jumped down. He offered a bowl of something steaming and fragrant and my stomach growled loudly at the scent of roasted meat and vegetables. He waited patiently until I got up the nerve and slowly reached for the bowl. The first bite burst across my tongue, and while a part of me cautioned that it could be drugged, the thought completely left as I truly realized how hungry I was.

The man retreated to the counter where he leaned against it and ate his own bowl of stew, albeit a lot slower. When he was done, the man set aside his bowl and folded his arms across his chest.

“Someone wants you dead.”