She moved cautiously forward as it barked again. As she reached the entrance to the outside, she saw it and stared. It was huge, black and shaggy, with golden eyes. Much bigger than she’d imagined a dog would be. Its head was almost level with her shoulder. It sat on its haunches, head cocked on one side, tongue hanging out. It didn’t look vicious. As she slowly approached, it lay down and then rolled over on its back, waving its paws in the air, and she grinned.
Crouching down beside it, she reached out with a tentative hand and rubbed the soft, silky fur of its—his, she could see that now—belly and he whined softly. Then rolled onto his feet and shook himself. He walked away, and she felt a moment of regret, then he looked back over his shoulder, gave a small yip. He wanted her to follow and she hurried after him.
They walked side by side through the trees until they came to the edge of the forest and onto the sandy beach of the lake. Everything was quiet and dark, just the starlight to guide them. Then he started a slow lope along the edge of the water, and she broke into a run to keep up. Then they were running on the hard-packed sand. She’d missed running, the stretch of her muscles, the quickening of her heart, and this was so much better than on a treadmill. He sped up and she was racing flat-out until her lungs burned and her legs ached, and she felt so good.
“Stop,” she called out.
The dog glanced back and then halted. He gave her a considering look, and she could swear she saw intelligence in his eyes. Then he turned and headed straight for the water. And he pounced, submerging under the surface and then coming up, swimming along parallel to the edge.
Longing filled her. She glanced down at her jeans. She didn’t want to get them wet. She stripped them off, leaving her in panties and tank top and then she moved slowly to the water. She dipped in a toe. It was chilly but not too cold. She stepped in, then looked up and found her new friend watching her as he trod water a few feet away. She waded in until she was knee deep. Then, taking a deep breath, she dived into the water. As her head went under, she panicked for a second. Then she pulled with her arms and kicked with her legs and she was swimming.
She broke the surface and laughed.
Something nudged her in the side and she panicked again, twisting around to find the dog swimming circles around her.
Reaching down with her toes, she found she could stand, the water only came up to her shoulders and she stood almost submerged. Then she kicked back and lay faceup, floating, staring up at the countless pinpricks of stars in the sky.
She didn’t know how long she lay, letting the water carry her. Then the dog nudged her again and she turned and half swam, half waded to shore.
The dog licked her thigh and gave her a sly look and then turned and headed into the forest.
“Good night,” she called after him. “And thank you.”
Gazing across the water she experienced a moment of real happiness. Gone in a flash. How much longer did she have before her freedom was nothing but a memory? And duty was her life.
Chapter Twenty-Three
“In every country where independence has taken the place of liberty, the first desire of a manly heart is to possess a weapon which at once renders him capable of defense or attack, and, by rendering its owner fearsome, makes him feared.”
—Alexandre Dumas, The Count of Monte Cristo
What the hell?
Milo’s muscles locked tight, his eyes widening as he stepped into the chamber with the alien spaceship and came to a halt. The ramp was up and bright white lights lit up the underside. A loud whirring filled the air, like a giant drone. And as he stood staring, it slowly lifted from the ground.
The whole thing seemed to vibrate. In fact the air in the cavern throbbed.
Then the lights went out and it dropped suddenly, hitting the sandy floor of the cavern with a thud.
He ran toward it, then stopped a few feet away. The door opened and the ramp appeared. He couldn’t make his feet move forward. What if he went up there and the thing took off