Free The Better to Bite by Cynthia Eden

unhooked it, and my upper body immediately dropped forward and hit the dash. I barely felt the impact. That had to be a bad thing. I should have felt it.
    I tried to shove open my door. Like the windshield, my passenger window had shattered. When I put my hand on the door, tiny pieces of glass cut into me.
    And the damn door wouldn’t open.
    “
Brent!”
    If I couldn’t open the door, I’d have to crawl out.
    That was when I realized my legs weren’t moving.
    I could feel my legs, could wiggle my toes, but the dash had shoved inward so much that I was pinned and no matter how much I twisted and turned, I couldn’t pull free. The airbag, now deflated, rested in front of the dash, and it felt like a shroud covering me.
    Have to get out.
    I punched at the bag and the dash. I tried to jerk up my right leg, but it caught on something sharp and my skin tore open.
    No!
    Breath heaving, my gaze darted around the vehicle. There…
there!
My bag had gotten tangled around the gear shift. I grabbed it, fumbling with slick fingers, and yanked out my phone. I’d call my dad. He’d get me out. Dad to the rescue, again.
    I lifted the phone and saw the glowing screen.
Yes, thank you—
    No service.
    There weren’t any freaking bars, and I couldn’t get a dial tone. We’d rolled—I didn’t even know for how long—but we were far away from the road, and my damn phone wasn’t working.
    I screamed then, in rage and fear, as I sat pinned in that truck. I knew no one up on the main road would notice the truck. It was too dark, no lights up there, and we’d gone right over the edge.
    My scream echoed around me, and then I heard the howl.
    The same long, eerie howl that I’d heard before the accident.
    My heart was racing now, racing so hard that my chest ached. My fingers fumbled with my bag once again, and my hearing seemed to become super acute because I could swear that I heard the wolf’s footfalls on the ground. A twig snapped.
    My gaze darted to the left, to the right, and my legs attempted to kick—no dice. I was trapped in there and every time I tried to move, I cut my flesh. If I kicked too much harder, I’d break a leg.
    But what was worse…a broken leg or—
    I could hear the wolf’s breath. Panting.
    I looked to the right, glancing through my broken window, and I saw the wolf’s glowing yellow gaze.
    I threw my phone at the wolf. “Stay away from me!”
    The phone bounced off its head. The wolf growled and stalked closer.
    “Don’t come any closer!” My hand was in my bag—thank God it was pinned with me—and the wolf licked its lips and growled at me. Its body pressed low to the ground as it closed the distance between us.
    I remembered all those missing hikers. Sheriff Brantley.  All dead. Yes, oh, yes, there was something to fear in the woods, and that something was coming right at me.
    I blinked, and the wolf vanished.
    What?
No, no, that wasn’t possible, it wasn’t—
    The wolf’s head burst through the shattered window, and its teeth snapped, narrowly missing my arm. I yelled even as my left hand came up and I sprayed my mace—
I owe you, Dad—
right into the wolf’s ugly, yellow eyes.
    The wolf howled again, but this time the howl was full of pain.
    I expected the wolf to back away, and it did, but…smoke rose from the animal’s eyes. The yellow darkened to a gray as I watched. As if the eyes were burning.
    The smoke thickened. The animal howled again, and then it spun away and ran into the darkness.
    I stared after it, stunned. Holy hell. Just…holy hell.
    My gaze turned back to the mace. What was in that can?
    Another twig snapped and in a flash, I had my mace back up.  “You stay the hell away from me!” I was the one snarling now. “Or I will spray you until your eyes burn out!” No one was taking a bite out of me.
    Silence.
    The pounding of my heart filled my ears. Wolves weren’t supposed to attack like that, were they? I mean who’d ever heard of a wolf charging a truck, and