Page 99 of Silent Bones
The soft sound of metal against wood. The dock shifting.
Her breath caught. No boats were supposed to be out. Not at this hour. Not theirs.
“Dad?” she tried, the word coming out weak. Pointless.
Wind chimes rattled on the front porch, sharp and sudden. She flinched. They weren’t moving earlier. There wasn’t enough wind.
Why are they moving now?
She turned to call Dusty again.
And that’s when something slammed into her from behind.
A gloved hand over her mouth. The stink of something sharp and artificial, chemical, cloying, burned her nose and throat. She tried to scream for the cop but couldn’t inhale.
Her body jerked, twisted, kicked. Her heel connected with something hard.
A grunt.
Then a second impact, her shoulder cracking into the porch post.
Dusty barked from the dark, a deep, guttural sound she’d never heard from him before. Snarling. Charging.
“Go!” she wanted to scream, but the hand held firm.
The attacker pivoted.
A thud.
A yelp.
The sound of claws scrabbling on wood, and then Dusty was silent.
“No,” her mind screamed. “Please no?—”
Her legs kept kicking. One shoe slipped off. Her free arm scratched at the gloved hand. Her nails dug into fabric, then skin.
And then?—
A blast of dizziness.
The world began to blur.
She felt a breath that wasn’t hers. It was harsh, panting, close.
She felt cold wood against her back. Leaves sticking to her legs. A jostling motion, like being dragged sideways.
Darkness crept in from the edges.
Her fingers scraped something rough.
Woodgrain.
She felt it, a floorboard.
Then, click, her locket popped open against her throat.
The photo inside, she knew it was the one of her and her dad fishing on the Saranac when she was ten. She’d meant to replace it with something more grown-up. She never did.
