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I shoved on the seatbelt, pressing and pulling and tugging, but the damn thing was stuck.
A hairy monster jumped over the seat, landing beside me on the bench. I opened my mouth to scream again.
Before I got the sound out, the monster—okay, maybe it was a wolf—shoved his head toward mine and legitimately climbed on my lap.
"You're not a dog," I yelled at it.
It licked my face.
"Not a dog," I repeated, my voice faltering a little.
It barked.
"Not a... What am I doing? I'm losing my damn mind. Get off me!" I shoved his furry body. I'd expected a werewolf to be gigantic, but he wasn't. He was only a little bigger than my mom's German Shephard, Gallifrey.
I wiggled and jiggled the seatbelt while the wolf watched me.
When I decided that wasn't going to work, I huffed and leaned back against the seat I'd been trapped in.
The wolf gave me a look, almost like it was asking, "are you done?"
I gestured toward the seatbelt, still scared out of my mind but growing angrier by the minute. "Don't just sit there, dammit. Help me!"
The wolf slashed his claws at the seatbelt. They sliced right through, and the seatbelt flew up toward the spinning mechanism.
The claw-slash reminded me what the guy had said about the wolf.
He was hunting me, and wouldn't stop until he'd bitten me.
And changed me into one of them.
"Stay back," I warned, scooting out of the seat and toward the door.
The wolf surprised me by listening.
Moving at snail speed, I slowly lifted my hand behind me, to the door's handle. When he made no move to attack, I pulled. The door clicked as it opened, and my body tensed, waiting for him to make a move.
He didn't.
The wolf just sat there, watching.
"I am so confused," I mumbled.
But when he still didn't attack me, I slowly opened the door up.
"No sudden movements," I said softly, partly to myself and partly to the wolf, because it seemed like he was listening to me. If he was, I would definitely take advantage of it.
I lowered one foot out of the door, poking around with the toe of my old red Converse until my foot met the dirt.
The wolf stayed where he was, watching me silently.
I slowly straightened, my hands landing on the faded fabric of the seat as I carefully lowered my second foot to the dirt.
"What's she doing?" someone whispered. One of the non-furry guys from the van, I assumed.
"I think she's trying to escape," another said, with some amusement.
"He hasn't tried to stop her yet," a third pointed out.
