The rabbit dove under a broken board of the decrepit gray shed behind the school as they got out, but inside the moldy shelter, the hare drew up too late and a very large hand snatched it by the neck and twisted, snapping bones.
Smelling more nature than rot for a change, Marc secured the one-room school, not thinking it necessary to sweep the barn or farmhouse almost half a mile behind it, something he too regretted later.
"I can take the stuff in, if you want to go check that coop we passed. I'm almost sure a couple of them survived."
Marc's eyes lit up at the thought of fried chicken, and he nodded eagerly, even though he knew not to leave her alone. "Deal. I'll go after I set the disks."
She nodded and got busy, smiling as he carried the heavier items to the porch for her, and then set the alarms. He was very considerate, and it worried her to think of how close they might be by April.
"Stay, Dog. Guard."
Brady gave her a questioning look, uneasy all of a sudden, too, but not sure why, and she waved. "I'll be fine. You gonna pluck it?"
He grinned, sliding behind the wheel. "That's woman's work." He laughed at her amused look and was gone a few seconds later, leaving a trail of thick dust in his wake.
Angela looked around, suddenly scared, but shook it off and picked up a box to take inside, telling herself she was just jumpy as usual. This time she was worried over nothing. There was no open door, no voices whispering. Everything was silent, dark, and that meant okay, right?
The dirty, dangerous man came from behind the barn, watching them with cool calculation, and when he saw her mate leave, he moved quickly and quietly toward the woman.
In one large hand was the freshly killed rabbit. As the man entered the schoolyard, breaching alarms, he flung the bloody meat past the wolf's nose. The animal went for it, fooled at first, and he moved swiftly across the porch before Dog turned and lunged for him.
Angela jumped at the door slamming, turning as something heavy hit it hard, and yelped in pain.
"Is that Do…?" Angela froze, heart squeezing as death bells echoed in her mind, and she sent out a silent scream for help, backing toward the gun she wished she hadn't yet taken off. "What do you want?"
The filthy mixture of man and nightmare moved closer, making her skin crawl as he smiled. His dead brown eyes told her he'd been alone for a very long time even before the War.