* * *
The wolf felt his claws sinking into the soft wood of the twig house, but he didn’t care. They were here. The undead. An army of past meals pressed its way toward him, ready to devour him in his turn. He had to find shelter. He had to get in the house, any way he could.
His claws were a frantic blur, burrowing a hole in the wall. His huffing breath almost blocked out the sounds of the dead behind him. Almost.
Then his paw was through. He could feel the secure place behind the walls, but just as a smile of relief spread across his face everything came tumbling down. Twigs fell, clattering to the wooden floor. Two pigs stood in the middle of the room, clutching each other, squealing, their snouts twitching as rotten stench filled the space where safety had been. Their eyes were huge, frightened. They didn’t run. Fear immobilized them.
“Run,” the wolf said.
His roar broke the spell, and they both bolted, heading in the direction of their sister’s house. The house of bricks. That was sanctuary. That was where he needed to go.
The wolf snapped at the pigs’ heels, urging them to run faster. He’d been stalking the pigs for weeks and knew there was no way the sister pig would let him into her house without her brothers.
After a half mile or so, they’d put some space between themselves and the undead. The pigs were oinking, struggling for each breath and he knew he’d pushed them too hard. Their panic of being with a wolf was blinding them to their common enemy. He backed off a little, trotting behind them to make sure neither of them collapsed but staying far enough back that they might be able to regain some of their senses.
When he saw their sister’s house, he shook his head in awe. Even though he’d seen it before, the sheer brilliance of the set up never ceased to amaze him. The Cheat River ran swiftly along one side, providing water for the fields in the front. She’d plowed them since the last time he’d scoped it out, turning the dark, rich earth over in preparation of planting. The brick house backed up to large natural rock wall embedded in the mountainside that would block the cold winds of winter and provide shade during the hottest days of summer. It also meant a predator couldn’t sneak up on her from behind. Between the river and the wall, only two sides were accessible and it’d be easy to keep an eye on those. Sister pig was smart, that was for sure, and her home would be his safe haven.
Smoke curled from the chimney, warm and inviting. Safety in sight, the pig brothers ran faster.
“Penny. Penny, open up. We need you,” they cried. She opened the door, her eyes widening at the sight of her brothers running from a wolf, all three heading straight for her door.
One pig inside.
Two pigs inside.
The wolf leapt through the air.
He was here.
He was safe.
She slammed the door in his face.
His snout crumpled as he slammed into the solid oak. A yelp of pain echoed off the rock wall and tears filled his eyes.
“No. No, this can’t be happening. You have to let me in.” It was only a whisper, but the whine in his voice sent a shiver of anger through his body. Who did this pig think she was, locking him out when he’d been the one to spare her worthless brothers?
“Little pigs, little pigs, let me come in.” He didn’t hide the growl in his voice. Didn’t even attempt to. She wouldn’t get him to beg. He could hear them through the walls, scurrying around like rodents, the brothers filling the sister in on the events of the past hour. Rage flashed through him. He didn’t wait for a reply before saying it again, his gaze roving the house’s walls, looking for another way in. “Little pigs, little pigs, let me come in.”
The undead had caught up with him. If their clamor hadn’t announced them, their smell would have, but the wolf pushed the thought aside. He was on a hunt. A piggy was going to die, no, make that three little piggies, and he didn’t care what else arrived because he was going to kill the bitch first and eat her in front of her brothers.
There. The stack of firewood. He could jump from it to get to the roof. To get to the chimney. He scrambled to the top of the wood pile, coiled his muscle and leapt, catching his huge claws on the edge of the roof, scrambling to boost himself up. Just as he pulled his massive form over the lip of the roof, teeth sunk into his haunches.
The wolf glanced back. A bunny clung to him, teeth buried deep in his muscle, back feet bucking wildly, flaying the skin of his leg. A searing pain spiraled through his body from the wound. He jerked his leg, knocking the rabbit free, its teeth tearing a chunk of flesh from him, and sending it plummeting into the mass of undead animals surrounding the house beneath him. When he tried to stand a wave of nausea knocked him on his face.
The chimney was right there. He had to get to it. Had to show that bitch she couldn’t keep him out. He would get in.
As he tried to stand again, everything went black.