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Artem

The walk to the car and the drive home that follows both go quickly. I can move much faster under cover of night.

The moment I park outside the lodge, I jump into action, setting traps in the surrounding area and getting all my guns in order.

I pick the spot I’m planning on luring them to and start setting up traps around the perimeter. I work quickly and quietly with a flashlight clenched between my teeth to illuminate my hands.

With some old car parts filched from the junkyard on the outer rim of town, I fashion jagged-toothed traps that will snap shut on anyone who wanders too close. I pity the poor fucker who gets caught here.

When I hear the crunch of leaves in the underbrush, I get up fast and snatch the gun resting at my side.

They’re here sooner than I expected…

Or not.

It’s just the mutt from before.

“Fucking hell,” I mutter. I set the rifle down and return to finishing my traps.

The dog pads over to me. Instinctively, I put my hand out and push him away from the sharpened sticks.

“Unless you want to lose a leg,” I tell him, “I would clear away from this general area.”

The dog cocks his head to the side as though he’s really listening to me. I finish setting up and make sure each trap has been expertly hidden by leaves.

Once that’s done, I head back to the cabin to check on a few things. I probably don’t have very long. They could arrive in a matter of minutes, but I’m counting on my traps to tip me off.

The dog follows behind me. I realize that the annoyance I usually feel has lessened somewhat.

When we get back to the cabin, I put some water down in a bowl for him.

Motherfucker has the audacity to look surprised.

“Don’t get too excited,” I growl at him. “This is a one-time thing.”

He laps up the water, finishing it in seconds. I fill it up for a second time and then go back to cleaning my guns.

When I start towards the door, the dog follows behind me.

I put my foot in the way. The dog does that curious head-tilt shit he loves doing.

“Just for today,” I grumble, “you can hang out in the cabin. Don’t make yourself too comfortable. And stay off my goddamn bed.”

Then I shut the door on him, trapping him inside. I hear whimpering on the other side and pawing at the door, but I ignore it and keep walking.

It’s for your own good. You don’t want to get caught in the crossfire.

I head back to the location I’ve marked in the woods, settle down amongst the leaves, and lie in wait.

I should probably feel like a man who’s been backed into a tight corner.

But I feel more like a hunter stalking his prey.

* * *

It takes them longer than I’d anticipate to get here. Long enough, anyway, to make me second guess whether they’ll come at all.

But then I hear the crunch of boots on gravel and a smile stretches across my face. I have a fight on my hands.


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