The howl rose through the sifting snow toward the grainy, hidden moon. Alex wished she had a gun, and fingers, so she could end Barlow’s torment. Her throat ached to join him as he howled out the remaining seconds of his life. George had run back to town, presumably to find water—a bucket, a hose, a fire hydrant. It wouldn’t do any good, but it gave the boy something to do. Her eyes prickled—the smoke, the stinging snow, that was all—as Alex fought the wolf’s urge to run away. Barlow might be the bane of her existence, but she wasn’t going to let him die alone. “Ooooo—whooo!” The shift in the howl from mindless pain and fury to a distinguishable word had Alex tilting her head, stepping closer. The snow had become a blizzard, and she could just discern the outline of Barlow shimmering—there, and then gone and then there again. Was he getting taller as he died? “Whooooooooo dares?” The words echoed across the night as Barlow, naked and man-size, his chest a bloody mess, burst from the swirling blanket of white.
What do You think about Marked By The Moon (2010)?
