Ashes by Ilsa J. Bick Page B

Ellie—really, really tight.”
    â€œAlex? What are you going to do?”
    She did not answer. Wrapping both legs around the branch, she hooked her ankles together. She hugged the tree with her left arm but let her right fall, choking up only a little on her makeshift club.
    Ten feet away, at the fork, the hound hesitated. It was close enough that Alex saw that its eyes were muddy brown, the whites red. Its black lips curled in a yellow snarl. Then it crept forward one step and then another and another …
    Alex swung.
    Her club cut the air with a whistle. The hound saw it coming, tried twisting to snatch the branch with its teeth, but it was off-balance and too late. The splintery knob smacked the hound’s ribs hard enough to make their perch bob, and then the dog was yelping, its nails scoring bark as it skittered over the slick wood. Still yowling, the dog tumbled from the tree and, unlike a cat, smacked the water with a mighty splash that sent up a geyser of water in an icy coronet.
    Yes! Elation thrilled through her like blood. Twisting to peer over her shoulder, Alex saw the hound’s black head, sleek as oilskin, bob to the surface, but the current was swift and the dog was a good twenty feet downstream and still picking up speed. Beyond her feet, Ellie was dripping. “You okay?”
    â€œYes.” Ellie’s face reflected both mingled hope and mortal terror. “Is it dead? Will it drown?”
    â€œNo.” Alex watched as the hound battled for shore and then, ten seconds later, clambered into shallows on the right. Water streamed from its flanks and then sprayed in a wide halo as the dog shook itself. In another moment, it was bounding back up the bank toward level ground. “It’s coming ba—”
    â€œAlex! On your left! Look!”
    The shepherd was working its way onto the tree as the collie watched from the safety of solid ground. Then she saw movement to her right, and there was the very big mutt. The animal put a tentative paw on the wood, and then the dog took a step, and then another.
    No. The dogs were coming at them from both sides, and she knew she couldn’t do this forever. If only Ellie hadn’t lost the Glock, she might have—
    Something rocketed from the woods, something very fast, charging so quickly that Alex caught only a brown blur, and then she saw, with a start, that it was another dog.
    No, no, not another one. And then she caught its scent and thought, Wait. Isn’t that—
    â€œMina!” Ellie crowed. “Mina!”

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    The hound sensed something wrong. It began to turn, but it was already too late.
    Mina slammed into the other dog, a solid body blow that lifted the hound, upending it completely. Squealing, the hound turned an awkward somersault, coming down on its back, legs thrashing, neck exposed. Mina’s head darted quick as a snake, and the hound’s squeal cut out as Mina’s jaws clamped around its throat. With its windpipe cut off, the hound made no sound at all. Its legs thrashed and pedaled air, and then, with a single violent twist, Mina ripped out its throat. An enormous fountain of blood erupted from the hound’s neck—
    â€œAlex, look out!” Ellie shrieked.
    Startled, Alex whipped around just as a monstrous black shadow loomed. The mutt surged forward, jaws wide, and if Alex hadn’t had just enough time to bring up her right arm, the dog would have had her. As it was, the dog caught the club between its teeth, ground down, and gave the club a vicious twist.
    Gasping, Alex let go and felt herself slip, and then the world tilted on its axis. Frantic, she made a last grab for the trunk—heard Ellie shout again—but she wasn’t fast enough.
    She crashed into the water, the blow hammering the air from her lungs in a sickening whoosh. The roaring water, so cold her skin burned, closed over her head, and then a white jag flashed across her eyes as her head struck against