Free Werewolf Suspense (Book 1): Outage by T.W. Piperbrook Page B

the rear door handle. The door opened with effort, groaning on half-frozen hinges. Her bags were in the trunk, but there was a hoodie on the backseat. She retrieved it and pulled it on. The fabric wasn't the thickest, but it warmed her several degrees. There was no use delaying any longer. The car was stuck, and she needed to get out of here. She slammed the door shut and kept moving.
    The intersecting road was several hundred yards away. If she could reach it, she might find help. Although she hadn't seen a car pass in several hours, the road was her best chance at escaping the neighborhood.
    The wind had died down, plunging the neighborhood into a new depth of quiet. All Abby could hear was the puff of breath from her lungs and the occasional whimper that escaped her lips. She listened for sounds around her—the crunch of a footstep, the wheeze of a second set of lungs—but the area was mercifully silent.  
    She did her best to rid her mind of the beast, concentrating instead on a new set of odds before her: getting herself help before she bled to death or the cold consumed her. Whichever came first.
    Though she was covering ground, Abby's pace was uneven. Her head was swimming and she felt off balance. Even so, she was able to make progress, and after a few minutes she'd traversed the length of the street.  
    The intersection of Jameson and Pickney was marked with a stop sign. Next to it was a metal pole with two road markers. In better weather, Abby could expect to see a car every few minutes or so. Tonight, the street was empty.
    She looked to her left and to her right, finding nothing but trees and snow. Normally she appreciated the rural setting, but tonight it filled her with desperation. The nearest neighborhood wasn't for a mile in either direction.
    Help seemed light years away.  
    She staggered out onto the roadway, scouring the road for tire tracks. Her hope was to see indentations in the snow, some evidence that a car had recently passed. It was possible one had gone by while she'd been at the Hamiltons', maybe even while she'd been passed out.
    The snow looked untouched. If someone had driven by, it'd been a while.  
    In any case, she needed to keep moving. The longer she remained in place, the dizzier she became, and Abby had the sinking feeling that she was about to lose consciousness.
    Before plowing ahead, she scanned the road in both directions. There was no sign of headlights. The road to her left led to the center of town. She bore in that direction.
    As she cleared the intersection, she gave one last glance behind her. She caught sight of her house in the distance and fought the sickening feeling that now came with the image.
    Keep moving.
    As she walked, she wiggled her fingers and toes, hoping to restore some of the circulation she'd lost. Although the snow had ceased, the cold had intensified, and it adhered to her like a new layer of skin. The trees on either side of the road loomed over her like a platoon of many-armed guards.
    Each footstep was more difficult than the last; her muscles felt like rubber. She'd been on these roads numerous times, but never on foot. Abby tried to envision the neighborhood in front of her, but couldn't gauge how far she'd traveled. Without landmarks to guide her, the road seemed to stretch on forever, and each patch of forest seemed identical to the last.  
    Come on, Abby.
    She had to make it. She hadn't come this far to die.  
    Rob would've wanted her to continue.  
    She gritted her teeth, holding back tears, and charged ahead. After a few minutes, she noticed something glowing on the trees ahead. She squinted and wiped her face, but the light was still there. It took her a minute to identify the source.
    A car was coming up from her rear.  
    Abby spun. In the distance, she could make out the silhouette of a vehicle. It seemed to glide across the snow, its form illuminated in the backlight of its high beams. The engine purred louder as it approached.
    This