Werewolf Suspense (Book 3): Outage 3 (Vengeance) Read Free Page B

flashlight on the body, certain the man was looking at him, but each time his fears were unfounded. After an hour of waiting, Tom's eyes fluttered. He pinched himself, using the pain to stay alert. He'd hardly gotten any sleep the night before. The sheer exertion of fighting, fleeing, and driving had sapped his strength. He knew he couldn't close his eyes. To do that would expose him to further danger.  
    So he sat upright against the wall and thought about Lorena.  
    For the past few hours, he'd known his wife was dead. But Tom hadn't processed it. Hadn't had a chance. The night had been a flurry of battles and interactions, with no quiet time to mourn. He recalled the gruesome, torn carcass that had been flung at him in the woods, trying to reconcile that image with the loving memory of his wife.
    He couldn't.
    Unable to stifle his emotion, Tom started to cry. He buried his head in his hands, suppressing his sobs with the cold, stiff sleeves of his jacket. Tears stung his face. As painful as his memories were, they kept him focused and awake. He recalled his wedding to Lorena twenty-eight years ago. Her father had given her away. She'd been beautiful. Tom had paced their apartment that morning, excited, but apprehensive that something might go wrong. It hadn't. The day had been as perfect as they'd hoped. His memory was as clear today as the day it had happened, and so was his love for Lorena.  
    The beasts could never take that away.
    When he'd finished crying, Tom resumed staring at the top of the stairs. The door was shut, but it was severely cracked. The little measure of security seemed pitiful compared to what he was up against.
    Before he could conjure a fix, a thump emanated from outside, startling him. Tom looked around the room. It took him a second to recognize what the noise was. It was the branches falling outside, just like they'd done back at his house. The storm was snapping the weakest of the limbs, just like the beasts had snatched the weakest of the townsfolk.
    Tom felt a small, burning pride that he was still alive.
    Even if he died, he'd have lasted a hell of lot longer than the others. For all he knew, he was the last man in all of Plainfield. Hell, maybe the last man in the world. Tom let that thought comfort him as he kept his vigil. He shined the flashlight on the dead man-beast at the other end of the room, cursing its existence and blaming it for his loneliness.  
    He shut off the light.

Chapter Four

    Tom didn't realize he'd been dozing until he was awoken by a scratching noise. He jolted upright and aimed his gun into the darkness. The flashlight rolled on the floor next to him, gently. He must've bumped it when he'd awoken.
    He hoped he had.
    His body surged with fear. What if one of the things was in the room? Any comfort level he'd had was extinguished by closing his eyes. He grabbed hold of the flashlight and felt for the switch. Before turning it on, he paused, wondering if something was already watching him. If it were one of the creatures, it would've attacked me already. Wouldn't it have?
    Tom flicked on the flashlight. He shone the beam back and forth over the basement, adrenaline coursing through his body. The stairs were vacant, the door shut. He swung the light over to the other side of the room, expecting to find the dead man-beast missing or skulking in the shadows, but the body was in the same position it had been before. He sighed with relief. Perhaps a mouse had paid him a visit. He shuddered to think of the rodent running over him while he slept, but it was better than the alternative.
    The flashlight flickered.  
    The batteries were dying.
    He'd have to keep it off. The flashlight was his only source of illumination. His lifeline. Even if there were another one in the kitchen, he wouldn't go back up there now. He'd stay where he was, even if it meant hiding in the dark.
    No sooner had he shut off the light than the scratching noise came again. He cranked his head toward