Don't Close Your Eyes Read Online Free PDF Page B

hurt you,” she said in a gentle voice. The words weren’t important but the tone was. “It’s all right…”
    More rustling. Then she saw the head. Long snout, mostly tan. Small ears, brown. Black body. “Come.” The dog came to Natalie at a crouch, as if it expected to be struck. When it finally reached her hand, it sniffed twice and whimpered.
    “The dog in my dream,” Lily murmured.
    “I thought in your dream you only heard howling.”
     
    “I did, too, until I saw this dog.” Lily’s voice rose. “Nat, it was this dog howling in the rain. What kind is it?”
    “Mixed breed.” Natalie stroked the head, then rubbed the ears. The dog rose a bit, losing some of its fear. “I’d say part Airedale.” She bent her head. “Female. She’s never given birth.” The dog now stood at full height. “No collar. Long scratch on the face probably from a locust tree branch.”
    “It must be a stray,” Lily said.
    Natalie massaged the dog’s neck, noting that its already wiry hair was even stiffer there. Oh, please don’t let it have rolled in some foul-smelling dead thing, Natalie prayed. She brought her hands away. They looked reddish, rusty. She sniffed them, then looked at the dog. It whined. Her heart beating faster, Natalie placed gentle hands on either side of the dog’s head and tilted it. She wasn’t surprised at what she found.
    “What is it?” Lily asked. “Your face is pale.”
    Natalie swallowed. “Lily, this dog has dried blood all over its neck bat there’s no sign of injury.”
    “Which means?”
    Natalie didn’t want to explain how a dog or wolf might try to protect another’s neck. She stood up. “Lily, maybe the dog knows where Tamara is. Maybe it’s seen her.”
    “How do we know that?”
    “We don’t, but let’s walk and see what happens.” Natalie turned to the dog. “Come.” She tapped her thigh. “Come!”
    The dog hesitated for a moment, then came forward. She understood basic commands. Natalie noted the protruding ribs and the paws with broken nails and small lacerations. This dog hadn’t had an easy time of it lately.
    “Lily, start walking. Keep your voice calm. The dog is frightened.”
    Lily blurted, “The dog is frightened—”
    “Lily,” Natalie said sternly, “I think Tamara is hurt and I think this dog has been with her. Now do you want it to run off because you’re scaring the hell out of it or do you want it to lead us to Tamara?”
     
    Lily nodded. “All right. I’m sorry. I’m just so nervous about Tam.”
    “I know. Let’s walk.” They started down the rutted lane. The dog hovered behind them. Natalie turned and smiled. “Come,” she coaxed.
    The dog approached Natalie, who patted it on the head. Reassured, the dog bounded ahead. In spite of its neglected condition, it looked strong and graceful.
    Lily glanced around. “I don’t see any signs of Tam.”
    “The road is so rutted and the brush has grown up. It didn’t look like this when we used to ride our bikes up here.”
    “I hate to depress you,” Lily said, “but we haven’t ridden bikes up here for thirteen years.”
    “Hard to believe it’s been so long.” The dog broke into a run. It stopped about a hundred feet ahead where an oak limb that had been struck by lightning lay across the road. The limb was covered with honeysuckle. The tiny white and yellow flowers emitted a strong, sweet scent. Hundreds of bees drawn by the scent emitted a loud, threatening buzz.
    Abruptly the dog began to bark. Short, sharp bursts of alarm. It ran back and forth in agitation.
    Lily and Natalie stopped as oak leaves and honeysuckle rustled. Black wings appeared on the far side of the limb as a turkey vulture rose slowly, looking at them with tiny, conscienceless eyes encircled by red skin. Another followed. The dog looked up at the ugly carrion birds, barking furiously. Hair stood up along its backbone. A corresponding shudder ran through Natalie.
    “What is it?” Lily asked in a thin,