Because they had sealed themselves within the house, they couldn’t hear if there was still anyone out there, walking the perimeter of the cottage, looking for things to throw at it. The not knowing was almost worse.

Buttons stopped his howling, finishing with a wet chomp and a sneeze. He came back to the living room, turned twice, and then lay down beside the bed.

Kate and Andrew waited for an interminable amount of time, afraid to move, not daring to speak, waiting for the next crash to sound.

None came, and sometime after three, Andrew put the ax handle down and plucked her out of the chair and settled her onto the bed. He got them each a glass of water and lay down next to her.

“What do you think that was?” Kate asked, her stomach gurgling loudly.

“I don’t freaking know.” His jaw muscles were flexing nonstop. “Maybe some hillbilly asshole wanting to mess with us.”

She nestled into him. “But that first scream. That…that couldn’t come from a person, could it?”

“I don’t know, but as soon as it’s light out, I’m going to check.”

His body felt as hard as stone. Kate could almost smell the sour burn of adrenaline and anger seeping out of his pores.

If it was a person and they were anywhere near the cottage come dawn, Kate almost felt sorry for them.

Chapter Seventeen

Somehow, they had both managed to doze off, Kate’s head on Andrew’s chest. Her drool had soaked his shirt, her cold hand on his face. He carefully extricated himself, clasping her hand to warm it up without waking her. Kate’s circulation was so bad in her arms, she had a perpetual case of what he called ‘ice lady hands’.

It was almost seven. He opened the blinds on the doors and peered out at slate skies, the countryside dulled by a solid mattress of low clouds.

He slipped on his sneakers, woke Buttons up, and grabbed the ax handle.

Last night he’d been conflicted, terror and anger jockeying for post position. Now, in the gray light of day, he was still angry and also curious. Kate had thought it was an animal and they had been overreacting…again. She’d said this over and over while they watched TV, trying to convince herself, a steady cadence of self-hypnosis. He went along with her because she needed to settle her nerves. He saw her wince and grab for her chest a couple of times. The last thing he wanted was to have to rush her to the hospital in the dead of night.

That wasn’t an animal.

He’d been asleep when the scream erupted, so he didn’t have a full sense of the noise it made – animal, human, or otherwise. Catching the tail end, his brain still gauzy from sleep, he’d only known that someone was shouting.