They were on all fours pursuing them, urged on with an inhuman need to slaughter and feed. The pounding of their huge paws on the cold dirt was temporarily muffled as they howled up at the night. Gully had hoped the thick trees would offer him and the peopled he’d saved, places to conceal themselves, but he was wrong. The predators’ night vision could penetrate the dark with ease, and their sense of smell could detect the four of them wherever they may hide.

Desperation begged that he plunge deeper into the woods. More than once he’d seen what the claws and teeth of the predators could do to human flesh—saw the terror frozen in the eyes of their dead victims. Gully saw that same fear in the eyes of the family he was trying to protect. A hard knot had gotten trapped in his throat when the small girl glanced in his direction; her gaze became saucers and she mouthed a silent scream.

Gully had to force himself to twist his neck around to glance over his shoulder toward whatever she was seeing. He spotted the blood red glow of their ominous eyes first and then three of the beasts leapt out from the darkness, their maws enthusiastically snapping open and close anticipating flesh being trapped between their razor-sharp teeth.

The girl finally gave voice to her scream. It was time to stop running. Gully turned on his heels and faced the rampaging creatures. Exhausted, out of breath, and struggling to control his panic. Every fiber of his being shouted for him to continue running, but deep inside he knew that running would only get them killed. Gully shoved his fear aside, not for himself, but for the small girl and her parents.

The werewolves hastened their charge.