profusely under her layers of clothes.
She leaned against the snow shovel and listened to the quiet. She heard a crow call, maybe the same one from yesterday, and looked up, but saw nothing. She cocked her head, listening for sounds of traffic. All she got was a soft plop as a clump of snow fell from a tree nearby. After a moment she sighed, stretched her arms over her head and twisted side to side. She groaned at the pain, but picked up the shovel anyway. Maybe if she worked steadily she would be done in less than an hour.
One load of snow tossed to the side, then another. Then she heard it, the chittering sound. Charlotte froze in place. The sound came again, and she tried to figure out where it came from, but couldn't pinpoint the direction. The sound echoed through the trees, a call and repeat. There was more than one of them.
There was a rustling, a creaking and snapping of branches. To her left she saw a smudge of deep red against the gray and white background of the trees, slinking close to the ground. The chittering sound grew louder as the creature moved closer. She dropped the shovel, it landed in the snow with a soft thump, as she struggled to get the rifle off her back. It caught on her bulky coat, and for a few precious seconds she took her eyes off the creature to get a better handle on the situation. The rifle came free and she held it ready, watching the thing as it moved from one tree to the next, seeing only snatches of red. She glanced around the area, trying to keep the creature in her sight. It was the only one she could see.
She took a step backwards, and raised the rifle. The thing stopped for a moment, and raised its head. There wasn't much of a shape to make out, it was partially hidden behind a tangle of branches, but green eyes glinted as if they were lit from within. They stood watching each other for a long time. Charlotte's breath appeared as clouds in front of her. She saw nothing like that coming from the creature.
It started moving again, and in a few steps it was out of the trees, standing before her.
The creature was taller than she had imagined. Its legs were submerged in the snow, but its torso cleared it by two or three inches. It had a wolf-like head with a snout too long in proportion to the rest of the skull. Its body was long and weasel-like, and she caught the motion of a long bushy tail. It raised its nose to sniff the air. Then it opened its too large mouth, and screeched.
Charlotte jumped at the sound. She took another step backwards and this time peered through the sight. Whether the thing was truly dangerous or not was not up for debate. The very sight of it, and the sound of that screech as it echoed through the trees and into the distance enacted within her a deep, primal fear. Kill it. Kill it. Kill it. She could think of nothing else. The creature took a few steps towards her and she pulled the trigger. There wasn't much of a kick, but it had been a long time since she'd had any practice. The recoil caught her off guard. The thing didn't react to the crack of the rifle or the puff of snow that popped up six inches away from it. Charlotte grunted in frustration. She took aim again, and the creature moved, bounding across the snow. She fired again, this time missing by a wide margin. Then she turned and ran.
She didn't get very far. The beast slammed into the back of her knees and she fell face first into the snow. The impact knocked the air out of her lungs, and as she struggled to inhale, she felt a sharp pain in her calf. Her scream was strangled, barely fueled by the minute gasp of air she had managed. It's biting me. The bastard is biting me, she thought in disbelief. It made grunting, snarling noises as it tried to chew through the thick fabric of the snow pants, and as it thrashed its head it snapped her trapped leg back and forth in away that she was sure was going to dislocate her knee. She tried kicking at it with her other foot, but it side-stepped her flailing leg and continued to jerk and trash its head. Then the real pain hit. Its sharp teeth had made their way through her pants and were now in her leg. She screamed, and tears burst from her eyes. She kicked again, this time meeting solidly with the thing's side, but it didn't phase the beast. She could feel its teeth in her calf, and it was on its way to actually pulling out a chunk of flesh. She flailed around, crying out again when her hand collided with something hard and cold. She grabbed the rifle and swing it up over her head. The stock of the rifle connected with the creature's skull with a crack and it let go of her leg for a few exquisite seconds. It shook its head and squealed, yellow spittle tinged with the red of her blood flew from its jaws. It lunged towards her, but she was ready. There was a crack. The rifle unsteadily seated in her shoulder recoiled, knocking her backwards onto the cold packed snow. The creature collapsed on her, jaws snapping and still snarling. She felt wetness, and she didn't know if it was blood or saliva, but the creature's movements quickly weakened. As it stilled, she pushed it off herself, groaning.
The creature twitched and snapped, its green eyes glinted, and then it was still. Charlotte looked down at herself. She was a bloody mess, covered in whose blood she wasn't sure. Her leg throbbed, and when she tried to move it sent alarms of protest to he her brain. She struggled to stand, and finally using the rifle for support, she did. Breathing hard, she looked down at the thing half buried in the snow. Jumper was barking furiously and she could hear him bumping the glass door. She could also hear something else.
The chittering rose from the trees on all sides. Frantically glancing around, she could see red fur, bushy tails, green glinting eyes in the trees. On the ground, in the branches. Where the hell had they all come from? They swept down from the tree line chittering and snarling, sniffing the air, a wave of reeking fur and glittering eyes. Charlotte turned to run, and her bum leg made her think twice. She hobbled up the shoveled driveway. The stairs were just there, only a few more steps.
She fell. Screaming in frustration, she struggled to her feet. There wasn't time, she knew there wasn't any time, but she looked back.
The first of the creatures had converged on the body of their fallen comrade. They sniffed at the corpse, and snapped at each other. Then they began to tear into the body, red blood and fur began to fly, and the squeals and screeching became frenzied. They all seemed to be interested in the feeding frenzy, all except one, who locked eyes with Charlotte. She stared into the glaring green eyes. The eyes narrowed and the thing lowered its head.
“Shit,” Charlotte hopped backwards on one foot. “Shitshitshitshit-ohshit.” She suddenly found that her bad leg wasn't that bad. She took the steps, skipping every other one, rushed across the porch, and slammed into the glass door. The door wouldn't open. She rattled the door lever and threw her weight against it, before remembering that the door opened outwards. She pulled the door open, stepped inside and slid across the bare hardwood floor, her wet boots finding no purchase. She lost her balance, tilted backwards, and arms flailing, she fell. Bursts of light flashed across her field of vision when the back of her head slammed against the floor. She struggled to roll over, and through floating black spots she watched as the storm door slowly closed on its pneumatic hinge. Her pursuer flew up the steps, across the porch, and slammed into the storm door so hard that the glass rattled in its frame. The force of the impact pushed the door closed, and after hurling itself against the glass a few times, the beast stopped and glared at her.
Charlotte groaned at the pain in her head, and the pain in her leg. The world tilted and blurred, and she stopped to rest her forehead on the floor. She could hear the creature outside squealing and chittering, throwing its body against the glass, and when she managed to look up again, she saw the glass had cracked. Jumper was alternating between barking and whining, not sure if he should be the aggressor or the defender. She pushed herself into a kneeling position, then crawled on hands and knees to the door. The creature watched her progress from the other side of the glass. As she drew closer, it reared up on its hind legs. Charlotte had an image of the creature – the monster – working the lever with its human-like paws and opening the door.
She scooted forward and slammed the inside door shut. Then rising painfully on her knees, she turned the lock. The wound on her leg burned like fir
e as she pulled herself to her feet. Once fully upright, the world tipped sideways and darkened around the edges. She wondered if it was just the wound making her faint, or if she had a concussion. Probably both. When the darkness faded away, though the world stayed a bit off kilter, she hobbled to the backdoor. She pushed the blinds aside and saw that the creatures hadn't returned to the back yard yet. The lock was still engaged, but she wondered if the glass would hold if those things decided to start hurling themselves at it.
Jumper came up behind her sniffing at her boots and bloody pants. Charlotte looked down at the bright red splotches, and the black edges in her vision appeared again. She closed her eyes and leaned against the wall, breathing deeply as tears sprang from her eyes. What was she going to do? They were out there. One of them had bitten her. What if it had rabies? Or some other nasty disease, its mouth didn't have a very sanitary look about it.
The noises were getting louder, the creatures were on the deck again, padding around, brushing against the walls. It sounded as if there were fewer than the night before, or maybe in the hard light of