The Shuddering

resonating from deep within its throat. It canted its head to the side, its huge mouth giving it a perpetual smile. Its black marble eyes flashed in the pale morning light.
    Midscramble, Lauren froze in place when a second creature stepped out of the shadow of the trees, that same frothy snarl vibrating against the hollow of its throat. This one was closer,having stepped out from the trees less than ten feet away, its soulless eyes fixed on Ryan, its teeth so big they were forever exposed.
    Ryan was as rooted in place as Lauren was, both of them suspended in a pocket of breathless horror. But just as the closest hunter was ready to pounce, Lauren’s cry pulled the savage’s attention away.
    “Get away from him!” she screamed. The battle cry would have made sense if Lauren had some sort of weapon to defend herself, but she stood empty-handed, armed with nothing but her own fearlessness.
    The creature appeared almost startled by her defiance. It lurched backward, then twisted around and bolted back into the trees. Ryan watched Lauren’s determination melt into what could have only been stunned surprise, his own heart clamoring for freedom from his chest. She turned to look at him, bewilderment written on her face. For a split second she almost seemed to smile, proud of herself, but Ryan shook his head.
    No .
    This wasn’t over.
    Run.
    He reached for her hand, unable to breathe, about to choke on his own pulse as the creature down the slope of the drive launched itself forward.
    He heard the thing bolt up behind them.
    His eyes locked with Lauren’s, her expression frozen in time like a snapshot. But her gaze didn’t reflect the horror he felt. Behind wisps of flaxen hair, she looked mystified, as though unable to believe where they were, what was happening, what would inevitably become of them both.
    Her hand was torn from his grasp as she was snapped backward. He stared wide-eyed as the thing threw her onto her back, Lauren kicking her legs at the oncoming horror, trying to scareit away with her screams. She planted her foot against one of its bulbous knees—nothing but a ball-shaped joint suspended between two leg bones—jamming her heel against it as hard as she could, but rather than forcing it to stumble, she made it angry instead. Ryan continued to stare as the hellion reeled back, its mouth open impossibly wide, and then charged her. Ryan’s brain screamed for him to help her while his instincts urged him back up the road. You need a weapon , it shrieked. You can’t fight that thing with your bare hands. The creature’s jaws snapped just inches from Lauren’s face as she shoved it backward with her feet.
    Ryan’s gaze snagged on the snowboard on top of Sawyer’s Jeep. But the Jeep was downhill, and Lauren and the creature were between him and the car. He turned uphill, started to run again—there were three more on top of the Nissan. If he could get back to the driveway, he’d have something to swing at that fucking thing.
    Lauren gave a bloodcurdling scream.
    Ryan’s heart ceased to beat.
    No , he thought. Nonono!
    He reeled around, hardly able to process the scene. There was blood. So much blood. Lauren was still kicking at the thing above her, but with only one leg. Her other leg lay motionless in the crimson snow, detached, the foot twisted at an impossible angle. The creature grabbed her flailing limb, crouched low to the ground in a pool of gore-drenched snow, and, in a move that was a gruesome imitation of a sex act, lifted Lauren’s hips before burying its mouth in the massive, gushing wound below her pelvis. Its black eyes locked onto Ryan as it fed, challenging him as sucking noises punctuated the short-lived silence, broken by Lauren’s final scream.
    Oona was going nuts out on the porch, her bark a mixture of alarm and aggression. Jane stopped at the kitchen door, her handon the knob, hesitating. Since Oona had turned on her the night before, it was a wise idea to let the husky calm down.
    “What the hell?” Sawyer murmured, watching Oona lose it as she jumped up onto her hind legs, her front paws pounding the redwood railing, shoving her nose through the slats of the deck. But despite her apparent eagerness to get at whatever was out there in the trees, she refused to bound down the stairs and toward the road.
    “I don’t know,” Jane said, her face twisting with worry.
    Every hair on Sawyer’s body stood on end when he heard the wail.
    “Oh my god.” Jane tore the door