Brothersong (Green Creek #4) - T.J. Klune Page 0,80

My brothers looked back at me over their shoulders as if they thought I’d disappear once I was out of their sight. I didn’t blame them.

Gordo took my bag from me, and the keys. “Get Gavin in the back.” He turned toward the cab and opened the door.

I rounded the truck. Gavin followed me. The stench of blood was still thick in the air. It made my gums itch. I pulled down the tailgate, glancing at Gavin. He stood next to me, back rigid as he stared off into the forest. I touched him between the ears. He startled, looking over at me. “We good?”

He jumped into the back of the truck. It creaked and shook from side to side under his considerable weight. He whined at me. I understood. Let’s go. Let’s go. Let’s go.

I lifted the tailgate and locked it in place.

The truck rumbled to life, black exhaust pouring from the tailpipe and making my eyes water. As I went to the passenger side, I glanced over my shoulder to see Joe back up slowly and execute a sloppy three-point turn. His truck’s tires spun briefly before they caught, lurching forward as he turned down the country road.

I climbed inside and closed the door behind me. The heater was on full blast, but it hadn’t yet warmed up. My teeth chattered. I reached to the back window and slid it open. Gavin stuck his snout in, nostrils flaring. His tongue lolled out between his fangs.

Gordo pulled forward toward the house. “Maybe we’ll get lucky.”

“I wouldn’t count on it,” I muttered.

He managed to get the truck turned around with little trouble. He pulled around the other vehicles, tree branches scraping against the passenger side. Ahead, the other truck’s brake lights flashed as they waited for us to catch up.

Gordo turned the headlights on and off to let them know to keep going. They started up again, truck bouncing on the old road.

The house was barely out of sight behind us when Gordo grunted.

I looked over at him.

He was grinding his teeth, a thin sheen of sweat on his forehead. Gavin pulled his snout out from the window, growling as he struggled to stay upright in the snow that had settled in the bed of the truck.

Gordo said, “He’s awake.”

The engine revved as he pressed his foot down on the gas pedal. We jerked forward just as a roar came from deep in the woods.

“Go, go, go,” I chanted. I looked out the window, sure I’d see a large black mass barreling toward us. I pressed my hands against the roof of the cab as the truck fishtailed around a corner. Gordo spun the wheel, easing up on the gas as the truck drifted. We narrowly missed a tree, the trunk almost grazing the side of the truck. We straightened out and picked up speed again.

Ahead, Joe and Kelly hit the main road. They didn’t slow as they turned right, sliding so much that I thought they’d overturn into the ditch, but Joe kept control. I looked behind us to check on Gavin and—

“Oh shit,” I whispered.

I felt Gordo’s eyes on me. “What? What’s wrong? What’s—”

Robert Livingstone crashed onto the road behind us, trees falling down around him. He rolled once, the ground shaking as he pulled himself up. It was one thing seeing him at night killing the hunters or circling the cabin. Or even in the darkness of the cave. It was something else entirely in the daylight, the beast easily ten feet tall as he stood on his hind legs. His remaining eye burned in his massive head, the hair covering his body almost entirely black except for the white around his face and chest. His limbs were thick with muscle, and as I watched, he fell down on all fours, launching himself after us, fangs glinting in the weak sunlight.

“Hold on,” Gordo spat.

“To what?” I shouted, but it didn’t matter.

He hit the road, spinning the steering wheel to the right. The truck’s tires squealed as we swerved. Time slowed around us as I looked back out my window to see Livingstone crouched low, muscles coiling as he prepared to jump. I braced myself for the impact, knowing that if he hit us, it was all over. The truck would roll, and Gavin would be thrown from the back.

Gordo spun the steering wheel to the left, and the truck’s tires slid along the road, wet sludge spraying up around us. Gavin grunted as he fell to the