Chapter 1
Cari
Fifteen years ago
“You better get rid of that critter. He’s going to be nothing but trouble.” I can’t see my dad, but I can hear his beer can crack open through the thin walls of our rental house in Apple Grove, Oregon. We move around so much that it doesn’t quite feel like home yet.
I hug Radar close to my chest, and his puppy legs paddle against my sunshine-yellow T-shirt. “He’s not trouble. I’ll take care of him.”
“I’m not paying for dog food,” Dad grumbles as the TV pops on and the sounds of Sunday night football begin to blare. Triumph wells in my chest. He isn’t putting his foot down. “And he can’t come in the house,” he hollers over the broadcast like an afterthought.
Whatever. I barely register his voice as I head outside. I’m keeping the puppy in my room even if I have to sneak him in through the window. At the end of this school year, I’ll graduate, and then Radar and I can move out and go to college together.
My heart gives a thump at the lie. No way I’ll be able to afford college on my own, and Dad sure isn’t paying. But Radar and I will figure it out. Even if I have to work a fast-food job and save up for years, I’m going to college and then to vet school.
I trace the polka-dot markings on the puppy’s back and tickle his floppy ears. I think he might be a dachshund mix. So cute. “Isn’t that right, buddy? We’re going to be a team.”
He gives a yip and wiggles his paws even more furiously, like he’s galloping through the air. Laughing, I set him down in the front yard so he can get his zoomies out. He does a few clumsy doughnuts in the grass before running head-first into the side of a terracotta planter.
It tips over and smashes onto the concrete path, spilling dirt and petunias everywhere.
“Caroline!”
I scoop up Radar and run around the side of the house where our property meets the forested area on the edge of town. I’ve been warned plenty of times to stay out of the woods, both by my dad and by the signs posted every ten feet along our fence.
MONSTER RESERVE – HUMANS KEEP OUT
There’s a reason our rent is so cheap. It isn’t safe to enter the stretch of land in the Cascade foothills where the monsters, restricted to their more humanoid forms inside city limits, are allowed to shift and hunt.
But right now, meeting a monster sounds preferable to facing my father, and there’s nowhere else to hide. Tucking a wriggling Radar under my arm, I squeeze through the barbed-wire fence.
I’ll only go into the woods a little way, just beyond the first layer of trees and shrubs so I’m not visible from the yard. Knowing my dad, he needs time to cool down. I’ll clean up the mess on the front walk while he’s passed out. Replace the planter out of my savings. It’ll be fine.
“CAROLINE!”His roar is closer now. “You better be gone, girl! You don’t want me to find you or that mutt.”
Crouching down behind a fallen tree, I hold my breath and let Radar chew on my hand so he doesn’t bark, grimacing as his teeth dig into my skin. The screen door eventually bangs, signaling that Dad has given up and gone back to his game, and I can finally breathe again.
“Good boy,” I murmur, just as the puppy chomps his needle teeth into the soft meat between my thumb and forefinger. I let him go on instinct, and the second his feet find the ground, he takes off, heading deeper into the underbrush.
“Radar, no!” I hiss as loudly as I dare. “Come back!”
His tail waves like a white flag in the darkening forest. I do my best to follow him, blackberry vines snagging my ankles and branches slapping my face, but my glimpses of him get smaller and smaller.
It’s easier for him to move through the undergrowth because he’s so little, and somehow, despite the fact that his cloudy eyes can’t see a thing, he’s avoiding all the trees and other obstacles that seem to trip me every five feet.
And then he disappears into the settling dusk.
No little tail wagging. No joyful yips and yaps. No crunchy leaves under tiny paws. I’m alone in the woods.
The birds have stopped singing, too.
I should go back. That’s the smart thing to do. But I can’t leave a blind puppy out here at night. He could fall in a hole and get stuck…or worse, run into something with sharper teeth than he has.
I can’t think about that.
“Radar!” I call, louder this time. He probably doesn’t know his name yet. It hasn’t been twenty-four hours since I dragged him out from underneath the porch. “Here, boy! Come on out!”
I wish I knew which way he’s gone. I feel as lost as he is, and to be honest, even with 20/20 vision I can’t see much now that it’s getting darker. That doesn’t stop me from pushing further into the forest, calling for him.
