The hairs on Matty’s skin rose, and he imagined there was something out there in the snow. But that was dumb—there were no things with claws, hungry for boy meat. Everyone said so, and most important, Jack said so—

He heard a whimper.

Somewhere outside.

He wormed under the covers and listened until his breathing steadied. He listened.

Quiet again.

But not all the way. Cold drafts whistled out there. On metal. Along the second-floor balcony.

He didn’t move.

So. That was the sound, probably.

Stupid!

There are no real Beasts.

To prove it, he jerked himself out of the covers and looked around. Television, bed, window, door. Scary shadows. He sat forward and waited.

Nothing.

What to do? He could hide under the bed, but he didn’t. He took hold of the Tracfone and clutched it in his lap. He just sat there, the paper pad in his hand.

Still silence.

He began to laugh a little. What an a-hole! Afraid of the dark.

What a baby.

A whine set him on his feet. Outside the door.

He crept to the window and peered out. The snow made no sound as it fell through the yellow light and into darkness—

“Ohh-oh!” The air sucked out of him.

There were eyes out there.

Shiny brown eyes—nice eyes. Big and warm.

It’s an animal, he thought.

He pulled the chair from the desk and got it in front of the door. He stood on the chair with his heartbeats booming and put his face to the peephole. He could see movement. A pale paw in the dark. Now another. Two ears.

A puppy.

He blinked and looked again. The puppy waited in front of the door.

There was a puppy outside. The light wasn’t good, but it was enough to be sure. It was really a puppy, crying out in the cold. Soft honey fur and floppy ears. A black nose that sniffed. It was still pretty small—he could tell. He watched it stand there. Head tilting down and kind eyes looking up. A sad face.

It was skinny. It looked like it needed to eat.

He looked at the bolt on the door, and he looked at the puppy. It might run away any minute.

He got off the chair and scooted it back. Then he went to the nightstand and put down the paper pad and brought a box of Cheerios to the door. He poured some cereal into his palm. Then he unbolted the door. He opened it slowly.

Snowflakes swirled inward. Cold.

The puppy quivered, studying him.

Matty dropped to his knees and held out his hand. “Hi. Are you hungry?”

He was just a few feet away. The puppy put its nose down toward him.

Don’t move.

Just keep your hand out.

Now just wait. It’s scared. It’s making sure.