Page 3 of Feral Mates
Great.
An appearance from Dr. Death, monsters in the shadows, and now this. I pulled to a stop, taking several deep breaths. I coulddo this. I was a big girl and had even watched a YouTube video of how to change a flat tire.
That was if I had a spare. Did I?
“Great, Savannah. Just great.” Maybe I should call Triple A instead. With my hand shaking, I pulled out my phone. “Fuckety fuck. Fuck.” Not only was there no reception, but apparently, I’d forgotten to charge my iPhone the night before.
Oh, this was so bad.
I leaned back in the seat, peering out the windshield before glancing from the passenger window to the driver’s side. Unless I wanted to thumb a ride with Dr. Blackwell, I’d need to suck it up and deal with some on the job training. After taking another deep breath, I popped the trunk and opened the door, humming to myself as if that would keep the boogeyman away.
On top of being alone in the dark, I’d just had to wear heels to work today since we’d had an important government visitor and had been required to look professional. “You can do this. Just one step at a time.”
A quick glance at my front driver’s tire confirmed the worst. Cursing in several languages, I moved to the trunk, peering inside. At least something was going my way. I did have a spare tire.
Check.
It appeared there were appropriate tools, including a tire iron.
Check.
Now I was almost enthused. Almost.
I rubbed my hands before grabbing the tire, huffing the moment I tried to lift it by a few inches. While I exercised, although lately not often enough given my schedule, I barely budged the damn thing. After a second attempt, I rubbed my arm across my face, gathering a line of perspiration. I refused to be bested by a piece of thick rubber.
After wrangling with the tire for a full two minutes, I finally managed to drag it free, the weight almost pitching me onto the pavement on my butt. Success. A slight noise caught my attention and I slowly turned my head toward the back of trees on the left. Thank God for the full moon or my nerves would be raw. With the tire balancing on the edge of the trunk, I scanned the forest.
All the little night creatures were laughing at me.
The creepy-crawlies remained, tickling every inch of skin.
I accidentally dropped the tire, watching with increasing anger as it rolled into the shallow ditch on the side of the road. So this was going to be how my weekend went. Fantastic.
Already over learning to be a mechanic, I ripped off my shoes, tossing them aside the car. It was time to get down to business. Fury boiling over, I stomped toward the tire when something caught my attention. The same feeling of creepy-crawlies shifted all the way down my spine and I lifted my head. What in God’s name? Leaning forward, I blinked several times to try to decipher what I was seeing.
My stomach clenched.
Yellow eyes? Hold on. Not a chance. No more horror flicks. No more lunchroom conversations with Carl about his latest horror book.
I backed away until my butt hit the back of my car, turning my head from side to side to scan the perimeter for a second time.
This time, a rustling sound caught my attention. By instinct, I reached into the trunk, feeling for the tire iron. When my fingers felt the cold, hard steel, relief flooded my system. I pulled the thick piece of metal to my chest, almost laughing from the thought of using it as a weapon.
But I had to protect myself. I refused to be the victim like one of the heroines in Carl’s horror books. Another sound and I snapped my attention to the right.
Gripping fear.
My head pounding.
My heart thudding.
A deer maybe? What if there were bears?
Or wolves.
If I remembered correctly, there was a wild animal sanctuary bordering the laboratory property. This night was getting better and better. Maybe I would wait for Dr. Death.
Could wolves get inside locked vehicles?
