Page 95 of Break Out the Girl

Behind me London is basically sobbing. “Missed you so much, mate. It’s been bollocks without you.”

The ragged man lifts his head and for a moment I can’t believe what I’m seeing.

Instantly, I shift back.

“Tally?” the man whispers, his voice shaking. “Tally Bevan… is that really you, boy?”

I step forward and grasp Layla’s dad, helping him to his feet. “Fuck, Jim. What happened to you?”

The reunion is brutally cut short.

The rancid stench of the dog-shifters surges into even my human nose. They're closing in fast. From the corner of my eye, I see London grab Jim, pulling up the tree to the high branches. Good.

Now it’s time to fight.

My wolf explodes back to the surface, and I let animal instinct take over as the two hounds burst into the clearing. Drool hangs in long strings as they bound, snarling and snapping, towards us. I dive straight in, aware that the basilisk is doing the same thing. I take left, he takes right.

These monsters are unnaturally strong. As we collide, their burning saliva splatters across my shoulders, singeing my fur and stinging like pure acid against my skin. No matter. We roll and roll, each desperate to wrap their jaws around the other. I can’t tell if François is having more success, but my particular match is far too even for my liking.

And amidst it all, London’s voice pierces the mayhem.

“HERE! SKY! SHE’S HERE!”

34: LONDON

I’ve found her!

Or rather I’ve found the patch of ground that covers her up and a digital clock that is planted on a stake beside her muddy prison.

Clock numbers are ticking down.

It doesn’t take more than a moment to realize it’s a countdown.

00:12:16

Twelve minutes and sixteen seconds. To what?

The end of her oxygen.

I feel the vibration of her fear. It makes every curly hair on my body straighten. The reality of her slowly suffocating has completely cleared my mind of its usual noise.

Instead, my whole body is tuned into one desperate need.

DIG.

So I ignore the feral battles screaming around me and I scrape and tear at the frozen soil.

00:11:02

DIG.

00:09:43

I’m only ten inches down. The soil almost feels like it’s spelled. My faun hands are working only marginally better than my human ones would.

00:07:21

Seven men went to mow, and this is going far too slow. I need help. “BURT! SHANE!”