I Kissed a Dog - By Carol van Atta Page 0,125

when she could interrogate them. Their escorts, eager to return to the bonfire, had failed to search Dillon for his keys, and he was able to leave the room.

He’d warned the women about the feral creature that was kept isolated in a secured room turned holding cell. Dillon wanted to ensure it remained in lockdown before leading Connie and Deb out through the back entrance.

The last they’d seen of Dillon was him sprinting around the corner with a hideously mutated creature pursuing him. Almost to the door, Dillon had slipped. The beast, seizing the opportunity, had grabbed Dillon by the neck and dragged him away.

At this point, Connie erupted into tears. “He yelled for us to go back inside and lock the door. There was nothing we could do. That thing was like a mutant that had survived a nuclear holocaust. Oh, God, I don’t know what I’ll do without him.”

I moved to put an arm around her shoulders; she continued to cry, shuddering every few seconds.

“We were in shock,” Deb continued. “Connie was beyond consoling. I didn’t know what to do. But I knew Dillon would have wanted her to get out. About the same time, that thing returned and started slicing at the door.

I’m not sure how, but I convinced her we couldn’t allow Dillon’s death to be for nothing, and we made it to the basement. On our way down, I heard something. It was you talking to someone. I called out, but you didn’t answer.”

“But I did!”

“Who knows what happened.” Deb shrugged. “The acoustics are off in the shaft. I wanted to get Connie as far away as possible. Then I returned to look for you.”

I wasn’t sure I could express my gratitude to them, but I tried. “Thank you so much for coming back for me. The dresser was in place, though. That confused me. I thought maybe I was hearing things.”

Despite Connie’s still flowing tears, Deb chuckled. “Oh, that. I kind of punched a hole in the dresser so I could pull it back into position. I didn’t want to roll out a welcome mat to our getaway route.”

I nodded, my thoughts already flipping to the next phase of our escape. “We have to leave and join the others. They need us.” I couldn’t stand the thought of remaining down here with Zane and my other friends fighting for our lives.

“No! We can’t! What if Dillon is still alive?” Connie blurted, surprising us both with her outburst.

I glanced at Deb, uncertain how to handle Connie’s resistance.

Understanding my dilemma, Deb responded. “Babe, we need to get out of here. There is no way Dillon could have taken that thing down. I have no clue where it came from or why Jazmine kept it imprisoned here, but we don’t want to end up anywhere near it. Dillon would never have wanted you to involve yourself. He wanted you free.”

Connie stared up at the ceiling. “No, I can’t just leave him. The beast came back to the door when Chloe was inside. That was right after we entered the shaft. Maybe it put Dillon aside for dinner later on.” She swallowed hard. “Maybe it wanted to capture us all before mealtime.”

I hated to admit it, but she had a point. If it was Zane, wouldn’t I want to be sure?

“I’ll compromise,” Deb stated. “We go and get help from one of Chloe’s friends, and then we look for Dillon.”

“What if we’re too late?” Connie pleaded.

Deb countered, “We can’t beat that thing alone. We need help. We’re wasting time arguing.”

“Let’s go already!” Connie half-shrieked. She leapt to her feet, tossed my arm aside, and glanced around the room a final time. Then, without warning, she charged to the far corner, and loped with inhuman grace up the stairs with Deb on her heels.

I caught up with them as they opened the door at the top. We all stood, just listening. It was obvious the battle was still underway by the woeful wails of the dying, and the vicious victory roars.

“We need a plan,” I whispered, afraid they’d shift into their mutant forms before we decided our best course of action. I was just in time.

Connie whipped her head around, her eyes glowed red. “Kill Jazmine and everyone fighting on her side. That’s my plan,” she snarled.

Almost afraid to answer, I offered a compromise. “Sounds like a good plan, but we can’t just dash out there like madmen, women,” I amended. “There are two purebreds besides Jazmine that are

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