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It was a stupid thought, and a crazy one. But it was what she believed she saw.
Rags smiled. She felt it on her face, and it felt weird. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d smiled.
No, that was wrong. She actually could.
It was that night, when she heard Mom’s car pull into the driveway. Rags had gotten a new pair of tights she’d bought with money she made babysitting. She knew Mom would love them. Rags was smiling when Mom opened the door.
That was the last time she smiled.
But she smiled now, as she slid off the hood and walked around the car. The dog turned on the front seat to watch her. He was so big he filled the whole front of the car.
Rags reached out to try one of the door handles.
It was locked.
Of course it was locked.
She stood in the street and thought it through. There were shattered buildings, overturned cars. Bones. Debris. She nodded to herself and picked up a brick. Most of a brick. Enough of one for her purposes.
As she approached the car, the dog watched her. Rags showed him the brick.
“You have to get back,” she said. “I have to smash the window. Get into the backseat, okay? You need to—”
The dog climbed over the seat backs and dropped down into the rear foot well.
That made Rags stop in her tracks.
That was very, very weird.
There was no doubt in her at all that the dog understood what she was saying. But . . . ?
It was just a dog.
The brick was heavy in Rags’s hand. Doubt chewed at her. She hefted the brick and said, “Please.”
To the dog, maybe. To the day. To whatever was left of the universe who might be listening.
She smashed the windshield. Even cracked, it took a lot to do it. The safety glass was tough. It resisted her, as if the car did not want to release its prisoner. Or maybe as if the car was trying to protect her from this strange dog.
The glass finally exploded. Not just broke—it exploded, showering her with little pellets of gummy glass, spraying everything inside the car with fragments.
The sound was louder than she expected. It echoed off the buildings around her.
And then the dog came surging over the seats and out through the windshield. He landed on the hood and stood there, even bigger than she’d thought, shaking glass from his thick coat, eyes blazing with bizarre light. Rags stumbled backward and fell on her butt right in the middle of the street. The brick fell from her hand and rolled crookedly off.
The huge dog stared down at her, and then he bared his teeth.
Hair stood up along his neck and back. His ears went back and a low, dreadful growl rumbled from deep in his chest.
“N-no!” stammered Rags.
The dog snarled, and there was such deep, ferocious hatred in his eyes that Rags knew she had made a terrible mistake.
Then the dog crouched, muscles rippling, fangs gleaming, and with a bellow of pure animal rage, he sprang.
At her.
Over her.
