Page 23 of Starve
It’s a dog?
It’s Moro.
“Wait!” I put my hands up, heart racing and blood rushing through my veins. “Wait, don’t—” I don’t know what I’ve done to piss her off, but her lips are peeled back from her fangs and her eyes blaze with fear and aggression.
Distantly, my brain tells me that my hands aren’t going to do a damn thing against a wolf dog attacking me head on. But I don’t know what else to do. I don’t know how to stop her?—
She lunges right past me, not touching any part of me with her fangs or claws, and there’s an inhuman, unnatural yowl from the darkness of the stairwell behind me that has me whirling around and nearly sliding in the still-wet blood on the floor. The sight behind me makes me gasp, one hand flying up to cover my face. One of the monsters is there, in a tangled, writhing heap with Moro, who’s showing absolutely no mercy.
Part of me wants to yell something encouraging as my hand finds the wall to brace myself. The other part of me is content to stand there, horrified and unable to look away as she snaps and snarls, fangs tearing into the monster’s flesh. She’s efficiently brutal, and twists away from every attack so its claws sink into her thick fur instead of finding any purchase on her body. I still cry out, terrified for her, but I can’t look away.
At last the monster disentangles itself, dripping dark blood with skin ripped from its limbs and face. One of its eyes looks unsalvageable, but I find I don’t have any pity for it. With one last chirping shriek, it glares at me and runs away with jerky movements, sometimes dropping to all fours as it skitters down the steps and disappears into the darkness below.
I don’t move, and the only sound in the hallway is Moro’s panting breaths. But when she turns and I see her glance up at me, almost expectantly, my inner dog-lover kicks in full force.
“Good girl!” I gasp, dropping to my knees on the blood-spattered floor of the hallway. She wags her tail and walks toward me, a little uncertain, and my heart twists in sympathy for her when she clearly hasn’t gotten all the affection she deserves for beingsucha damned good girl.
“Come here, good girl. God, you’re so good. You’re perfect,” I praise. When she’s close enough, I let her sniff my fingers, watching as she seems to consider my scent before her tongue comes out to lap at my palm in what I’m hoping is her method of showing approval. It seems that way, at least, when she steps nearer to sniff at my face while I hold perfectly still.
Then her tail starts wagging in earnest, and even though all I want to do is throw my arms around her and cry, I only reach up to scratch at her ears, burying my hands in her long, thick fur. “How’d you get free?” I ask, knowing she won’t answer and not really caring, anyway. The guard doesn’t deserve her, and I’m more than happy to take her with me. “Thank you, thank you so much.” After another couple of affectionate scratches, I get to my feet, staring down at Moro as she watches me with expectant yellow eyes.
God, I’ve always wanted a dog. I’m not sure if I should complain to the dog distribution center for its timing, or wonder what I did to deserve Moro saving my life when I hadn’t known there was danger in the stairwell, but I’m definitely okay with it.“Come on,” I whisper, and turn to jog back down the hallway, trying to ignore the blood on my clothes.
“Hattie!” I call when I’m nearly at my door again. “Hattie, come on! We have to go. If we stay here any longer—” My words stop abruptly when I turn to look into my room, eyes searching, only to find it completely empty.
“…Hattie?” I ask, confused. The window is still in one piece, and there’s no sign of a struggle. The lights in the hall are still flickering ominously, sure, but I hadn’t heard anything other than Moro’s fight with the strange thing in the stairwell.
Even though I look under the bed and in the armoire just in case, I can’t find her. Hattie isn’t in this room, and it’s as if she’s just disappeared.
I only waver for a second longer, however. There’s no way I can stand here just waiting for something to come kill me. Iwon’t.
“Let’s go, Moro.” My steps take me back out into the hall, and as much as I’d rather slip out through the stairwell instead of head down the main steps and have to go through the lobby, I’m too afraid of the absolute darkness and what could be hiding in it.
Something that knew my name.
It’s hard not to run, but I’m able to keep my pace to a jog, working not to look at the dead bodies or listen to the screams that continue to echo through the halls from other parts of the building. My stomach churns, though it’s definitely empty, so there’s nothing for me to throw up. Not even when I’m confronted with Esther, who’s half sprawled over the desk in the lobby with her body pulled into pieces, and what definitely looks like her spine shining through the blood. It’s a close call, though.
I cover my mouth and nose while I try not to look, appreciating the way Moro stays right beside me or a few stepsbehind. She doesn’t seem interested in the noises or the bodies, except for an occasional sniff or whine.
Maybe she’s just as desperate to get out of here as I am.
Good for her.
The front door is flung open, and I shudder immediately once I’m outside in the chilly night air of Bluebone Ridge’s parking lot. When it occurs to me I have no idea what to do, or how to get out of here, the realization that this is as far as my plan takes me hits hard.
Nausea bubbles up my throat again, leaving a bitter taste in my mouth. Sure, I doubt I can find a ride off the mountain, but if I can just get out of here and follow the road, I can hope that at some point, I’ll find someone.
Right?
It’s all I’ve got, at least. It’s the only thing I can count on, or make myself consider doing.
Moro’s growl is the only warning I get, and I turn around just as something knocks me down onto the asphalt. When I scream, it’s met with a snarl, as my hands come up to shove at the angry, snapping teeth and clawed hands that grab for me. Wide eyes meet mine, though their humanity is questionable when they shine like a predator’s in the dark, reflecting the lamps that are still lit.
This creature seems stronger than the others I’ve seen; it’s more muscular instead of skeletal. It grabs and tries to pin me down, though within seconds it’s fighting both me and Moro, not that it seems to mind so much.
“NO!” I scream when its fangs come dangerously close to my skin. “No! Let me go—” I scream in fear, frustration, and pain when its teeth catch my shoulder. Pain blooms against my skin as it jerks back, tearing the cotton of my shirt away. Thankfully, it got more shirt than skin, but it still hurts.
I can’t do this forever. Even with Moro helping, trying to get it away from me, I can’t keep fending off the impossibly strong monster.
