“I couldn’t blame it for raging against the world, at the mercy of a higher power. You and me, Cujo. We’re in the same stinking boat. If only I could string up the dog’s owner, along with Sebastian, the guy pulling my leash. Now that would be the day. I pictured Mr. Philips droning on and on in physics-speak about the karmic laws of nature while Sebastian sat at a school desk, bungee cords strapping him in. And me, with the bwahaha evil giggles. Holding a can of gasoline and a match. All too... soon my payback fantasy went up in smoke. As I reached the whitewashed gate, muffled grunts and clanging came from inside the McCain’s detached double garage. My neck hairs vibrated like stage speakers at a deathgrind concert. Not good. Someone was inside, rummaging through my uncle’s things. Someone dared to threaten my home. My people. My pack. Inhaling, I picked up familiar scents drifting from the house, the garage.MoreLessRead More Read Less
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