The Father
BANG!
The sound echoed off the silo and the sanctuary walls as the muzzle flash lit up the enormous dog soaring through the air toward him. There was a surprised squeal of pain, then all was dark again.
Did I kill the dog?
The K-9’s body hit him with the force of a furry freight train and the next thing he knew he was on his back. His head snapped backward and slammed against the packed dirt of the field. Bonk! Before he could raise his head, the dog had grabbed him by the throat, her fangs sinking into his flesh, stifling the scream that barely managed to squeeze out.
No. She wasn’t dead. But the warm, wet liquid seeping through his robe told him she might be soon. It also told him he might be able to get away from the dog if he struggled hard enough.
He squirmed underneath the injured beast, shoving at her with his hands. He managed to push her off him momentarily, but as she shifted she tightened her hold, sinking her fangs deeper into his throat. He felt his skin tear as he gasped to pull oxygen into his lungs. He felt the darkness closing in, his mind closing down.
Then the dog went limp.
The mouth that had gripped his throat went slack. He gulped air and the fog in his mind dissipated.
Looks like I killed the bitch after all.
He shoved the dog aside and leveraged himself to his feet. He’d just turned to run when another sound met his ears.
Swish!
What the—?