FREYA
The window explodes inward and I am already moving, barely allowing myself to think of how my plan was so easily thwarted.
The wolves are similar to the ones that attacked us at the river bend, feral and odourless.
I get Martin out of the footwell and into Victoria's arms and I shove them both toward the far door. "Into the trees, stay low, do not stop for anything, go."
Victoria's face is white and I can smell her fear as she takes the boy and she goes out the far side of the car and low across the road toward the tree line, and I turn back to the thing coming through my window.
It is already shifted. Tall, clawed, its arm halfway through the broken glass reaching for me, and I do the only thing a body my size can do against a body that size, which is to not be where it expect
