“Best settle my check.”
Carl managed a smile. “Don’t mention it, brother. This one’s on the house.”
KRYSTY HURLED HERSELF sideways, diving behind a padded armchair, shielding her face from the explosion of shattered glass.
The picture window had been reinforced, but it wasn’t designed to withstand an impact like the huge mutie timber wolf.
The noise of the crash was deafening, and was accompanied by a rush of freezing air from outside. Krysty was aware of her own voice, screaming out to the others, and Jak also yelling to J.B., Mildred and Doc to come running.
She couldn’t help being aware of the snarling of the pack leader, its breath frosting in the air, and the howling of the rest of the animals as they readied themselves to follow. Krysty also noticed the rank smell from the wolf, harsh and feral.
She had no idea where her blaster was, guessing that it had to be on the floor close to the sofa.
The room wasn’t that dark, with the bright light of the burning logs, and Krysty pulled herself to hands and knees, the breath locked in her throat with the terror of the massive brindled animal, standing only a yard from her. Its shoulders and coat were patterned with blood, and shards of glass continuously dropped to the carpet from its heaving flanks. Its eyes were like saucers of molten gold, burning into her.
Her only hope was that Jak would be able to get at his own .357 Colt Python. His throwing knives would be of little use against an animal with such a thick pelt.
Out of the corner of her eye she saw that the window had been smashed apart, leaving a gaping hole at its center, with cracks running from top to bottom and from corner to corner. Even as she watched, a second wolf braved the gap and landed clumsily in the room, its paws slipping on a loose Navaho rug so that the creature fell against the piano.
Despite her fear, Krysty drew together the rags of her Earth Mother training, remembering about panic and about facing wild animals.
She stood suddenly, spreading her arms, her eyes never leaving the yellow orbs of the wolf. “You better leave me alone, you dumb fuck!” she said firmly.
Mother Sonja had told her that a positive response would chase away some animals and slow any attack from the rest. That was what she’d said, but Krysty had never tried it on anything like a giant timber wolf.
For a few heartbeats it hesitated, as though its murderous brain couldn’t encompass such a helpless creature trying to stand against it.
During that brief stasis, a third and fourth wolf crashed into the room, all of them standing and looking at the woman and the white-haired man. Their eyes turned to the pack leader, as if they were waiting for instructions.
Jak had reached for his blaster, holding it in both hands, trying to decide what was his primary target. The pair of wolves that were menacing him, or the huge leader that threatened Krysty?
For several more racing beats of the heart, nothing moved in the warm room.
“Going to charge me, Jak,” Krysty whispered, seeing the way the wolf was crouching, its powerful hindquarters quivering with suppressed tension, its eyes still fixed on her face. A thread of saliva dripped from its fangs.
The albino leveled the blaster and squeezed the trigger, the explosion releasing all the coiled, pent-up action.
Though Jak was probably the finest knife man in all of Deathlands, he would have been the first to admit that he wasn’t in the top ranks of shootists.
The big .357 round hit the wolf, but missed any of its vital targets. Just as it began its spring, the bullet smashed into its hindquarters, near the top of the left leg, sending it spinning in midair. It landed clumsily between Krysty and the sofa, falling on its left side, howling at full power and turning to snap at its own bleeding wound.
The brief delay that Krysty’s stand had brought them was utterly crucial.
It gave J.B. and the others time to wake and rush downstairs, carrying their own blasters.