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Sabine’s laugh had turned squeaky and incoherent. It sounded like crying. She pulled the mask off and wiped at the tears that had spurted from her eyes.
Max took one look at her and began to pace. “Oh, Sabine, you are useless.”
She slumped to the side, still gasping between giggles.
She waved at him. “It’s fine,” she said. “I’ll protect you.” Admittedly, she didn’t sound very convincing.
He made a disgruntled noise in the back of his throat, hands on his hips as he stared down at her. “What is the matter with you?”
Probably too much adrenaline and caffeine on an empty stomach.
She struggled to her feet and patted his shoulder. She schooled her features and was proud of herself for succeeding. “It’s going to be fine. C’mon.”
She led the way to her storage unit, Max followed.
“It’s the hawk that really scares me,” she explained over her shoulder. “I’m afraid that thing will take my eyes out.” She shuddered at the thought.
“This is a nice building,” Max pointed out. “It can’t be cheap to live here. Why is this even happening on your rooftop? It doesn’t make any sense.”
“Hm. As far as I can tell, one of the other residents tried raising chickens on the roof at some point. There’s still some sort of pen in one corner and a little shed. It must’ve attracted predators.”
She slid the key into the lock of the storage unit and opened the door. She flicked the light on and grimaced.
This was going to take a minute.
“I’m not sure when the cat started coming around. Kara thinks it made an alliance with the hawk.”
“If the chickens are gone, what keeps them here?”
Sabine stepped over a storage tub and slid a stack of boxes to her left.
“Someone is feeding them.” She grunted as she hauled the storage tub with the Christmas tree toward the front. She would need this in a few days anyway. She paused. Should she bring the Christmas decorations down now?
No.
Max was already freaked out enough.
She’d have to come back up later.
Alone.
Still…
She pushed the holiday tubs towards the front to make it easier for herself later.
“Who’s feeding them?!”
“What?” She frowned at his tone. “Oh, I don’t know. But sometimes I find empty food containers up here.”
“You need to report them to the building management.”
She snorted. “I have. They don’t care.”
“What?” He sounded so disgruntled she almost laughed. “How could they not care?”
She stood straight and put her hands on her hips. “Well, I think theycare. But not enough to do anything about it.” She shrugged. “Besides, if I could get them to fix something for me, it would be the undead banjo players, not the feral beasts of the roof.”
He shook his head at her. “I do not understand you at all, Sabine Debois.”
