There’s more havoc in the alleyway beside the station. Roadblocks are set up and crowds standing around. “What’s going on here?” I ask someone who’s stopped and watching.
“They’re filming a movie. I heard it’s a new Terminator, but I don’t think that can be true.”
“That’s good for me, bad for you. Cross the street and walk where things are clear. I’ll blend in with the crowd.”
“Copy that.” I move across the street, the click of my high heels sounding on the pavement. The restaurant Senator Flack named is in a hotel. I enter the lobby and scan the faces, but don’t see the senator’s gray head. When I give my name to the hostess, she hands me a piece of paper with a note from the Senator scrawled on it.
“Change of plans,” I tell Dune as I walk towards the elevators. “We’re meeting in his hotel suite. Fourth floor.”
Charlie curses. “What’s the room number?”
I tell him, and he’s silent a moment. “Everything all right?”
“Yes, but I don’t like it. He probably just wants more privacy. And it’s not uncommon for politicians to use a hotel suite as a meeting place. Especially when they’re on the campaign.”
“Campaign?” I ask, threading through a group of tourists waiting for the elevators. It’ll be faster to just take the stairs.
“Yeah, haven’t you heard? Senator Flack is on the short list of vice presidential candidates. Primaries aren’t for another year, but he’s gearing up to run.”
“Damn,” I breathe, pausing at the stairwell door. “Hey, I’m taking the stairs. I might lose signal.”
“Go on up. I will be right behind you.”
I’M SUDDENLY FLANKED by two men in suits, and the end of a gun pokes my ribs. “Don’t say a word.”
My breath leaves in a whoosh. Before I realize what’s happening, the two guys propel me back toward the stairwell I just exited.
“What’s going on? Where are we going?” I narrate for Charlie’s benefit.
The gun prods me harder. “I said no talking.”
“No.” Charlie’s sharp voice radiates with danger. “Don’t go anywhere with them. If they wanted you dead, you’d already be dead. I’m almost there.”
I shove the guy with the gun and duck backward. They both lunge forward and seize my arms. “Help! Fire!” I yell. None of the hotel doors open, but maybe someone will call the police.
The two guys yank me down the first flight of stairs, and I lose my footing. They drag me, banging my foot on the concrete stairs.
“Help!” I scream louder. My voice echoes in the closed space.
“Shut up,” one mutters, lifting me clear off my feet as they speed down the next flight of stairs.
Then I hear it-ferocious snarling, unearthly, terrible growls. It’s coming from below us.
“What the fuck is that?” The thugs pause on the stair.
“Probably a dog.”
The growls grow louder, and I recognize the sound. It’s the same one I heard outside the cabin two nights ago.
“Go check it out.” One guy yanks me close, and the other sprints down the stairs.
I kick at the guy holding me and get pistol-whipped for the trouble. The world spins for a moment, and I cling to my captor for balance.
The stairwell echoes with a spine-unhinging roar.
That’s no dog. The guy holding me comes to the same conclusion because he starts dragging me back up the stairs. I take the chance to fight him. When I fall, he yanks me up by my hair. Stars burst behind my eyes.
Something’s leaping up the stairs, a whitish blur. I freeze, then scramble back frantically. I scream when a gun pops multiple times by my head. The blast doesn’t hide the sharp ping as a few of the bullets ricochet. I throw my arms over my head and fall to the concrete.
The giant furry thing yowls in pain but keeps coming. Before I can scream again, it leaps past me in a whoosh.
The next thing I know, the stairwell echoes with the guy’s screams. I look and immediately regret it. The giant wolf has his jaws clamped on the guy’s arm, its weight pinning him down. Blood sprays and my former captor screams-only to be silenced when the wolf lunges forward and…
Adrenaline forces me up off the ground. My shoes go flying, and I’m running down the stairs, ignoring the horrible, meaty sounds behind me.
I don’t stick around to be the next meal. I fly down the stairs, barely pausing when I pass the mangled body of my second captor on the way. I slip a little on the smeared blood, and my stomach lurches. I’m too busy running for my life to stop and be sick.
I hit the exit door and end up in an alley. I stagger down it, panting, but nothing follows me. My head throbs, my hair’s a mess, my clothes are awry-but I’m alive. I tear off my bloodied pantyhose-they’re all torn anyway-and touch my earpiece.
“Charlie?” My voice is shaking. There’s no answer. Oh God-he said he was right behind me. Did the wolf get him too? It was the wolf from the cabin-I’m sure of it, but that can only mean one thing.
It’s hunting me. Is this some new creepy project of the CIA?
I take off running in bare feet. I don’t know if it’s stupid or genius, but I rush into the chaos of the movie filming, ducking under the tape and running through the crowd.
“Hey! You can’t be in here! Hey!” Voices shout after me, but I don’t look back. My feet are getting torn up by the pavement, but I don’t stop.
I don’t know where to go. Don’t know what to do.