As if the crier sensed someone nearby, the howling increased to where she couldn’t ignore the passionate calls. Taking the chance of using more of her phone’s battery, she approached the entrance and stepped up the two stairs that would take her to the open doorway. The barrier leaned over to the side, almost completely unhinged from the frame.
Happy to be out of the snow, she hauled her suitcase close to the door, and stamping her feet, she heard the crying start again, even closer. Shining her light into the darkness, she could see this space would have been the living room of the house. It had a fireplace and an old rickety chair, even a kind of table next to the window. Stepping into the house, taking care that the floor held solid and pleased to see that it did, she called out.
“Hello? Are you in here?”
This time, the increased volume sounded pitiful, and she thought it came from the room beyond. Through another open doorway, she saw cupboards, some totally collapsed, and others looking as if they still held. In fact, the ones in front of the sink were closed and she could have sworn the noise originated from there. Advancing on tiptoe, she called out again, “Hello, is someone here?”
This time the cries were soulful and didn’t stop. One long wail started as if whoever had been stuck could now hope that release from the prison was imminent, and they were so thankful.
Tara kept approaching, her heart troubled from the pathetic certainty of something being trapped. And her common sense told her it was likely an animal, not a human. Breathing a sigh of relief, she now had to worry about her own safety. What if it were a wild animal, a cougar or skunk, and it would attack her once it was free? Could she chance it? She’d have to. The poor thing couldn’t be left trapped.
Hoping it was a cat or squirrel, she reached her hand out and pulled at the door while at the same time shining her phone’s flashlight as it opened. She did so not only to be able to see, but also as protection. The stench from those first few inches almost knocked her backward. Realizing she’d need more strength to nudge the closed cupboard door loose, she pulled harder.
All at once, it came apart in her hand, and she held her breath, expecting the animal’s rush or possible attack, which never happened. Instead, the welcome whimpering made her stop being so silly and take the chance to see what waited for her.
First thing that registered was the dirty fur which looked to have been white. Next were two large, round, black eyes and then what sounded like a bark. Lordy, there lay a puppy too weak to be able to stand, though it tried hard to do so and greet her in appreciation for finally being found.
Tara had no idea how long the poor pup had been stuck but she could see immediately that it was too weak to hurt her or lunge. The poor baby had sat in its own waste for heaven knows how long. “You poor thing. Come to Tara, little one.” She reached in and found the reason why it had been stuck. The leg had somehow gotten wedged into a hole in the floor and it had become swollen.
Using her strength, she broke back the rotten wood and though it didn’t break easy, she finally managed to release the leg. Scooping up the whimpering, frightened puppy into her arms, she cuddled it to her breast, uncaring of the grime and smell.
Tara quickly headed to the open doorway, down the steps, and to the side yard where the snow had built up to almost the top of her thighs. Instinct had her lowering the pup to the whiteness so she could pack some snow around the swelling and let the captive eat the snow too because Tara knew the frightened animal needed to be hydrated.
Unaware of how long the little one had been held captive; she was careful not to expect too much from the wounded furbaby. Instead, she crouched close and petted and cooed so it knew her as a friend.
Surprisingly, it didn’t take long for the puppy to stand on the damaged leg and even put her weight on it, which told Tara it hadn’t been broken, just injured. Thankful for small miracles, she waited until the pup had eaten her fill of the white stuff, had even used the far corner as a facility, and then she glanced at the sky.
Hoping that the storm had passed, she stepped out from the shelter of the trees and it became glaringly clear. Not only hadn’t the storm passed, it had gotten much worse. Vision impossible now, the empty streets were filling up and desperately needed the snowplow. Watching for a few minutes for a car to appear, she had to accept that none had passed by for so long that the streets had no visible tire tracks at all.
The wind had also become vicious and the protective trees waved overhead in such a way that she no longer felt safe standing there. When she moved closer to the house, it seemed like a calm place in the middle of the storm and somehow, she just knew it was much safer here than out in the open.
She scooped the pup up once again and headed back into the house. Incredibly happier now that she was free and with a human, the pup shadowed her every move.
First things first, she needed to make them a shelter and wait out the rest of the squall. Thankful that she had a fetish for nature bars, and she’d pushed so many into every corner of her backpack, she decided with that small amount of food and the shelter from the worst of the storm, they would be fine until morning. Tara and the puppy could keep each other company and wait out the horrible weather.
Chapter Five
★•**•★
Once she’d decided not to leave their refuge, her next decision had to do with making them comfortable. Exploring the rooms that she could reach safely; she finished investigating the kitchen and realized the puppy had taken off in front of her. She’d headed to the room next to the kitchen which appeared to be a bedroom of sorts.
The shock that waited after she stepped closer almost had her running for cover. On the mattress lay a rolled-up old quilt, which wasn’t what freaked her out. It was the limp hand that appeared hanging almost to the dirty floor that made her gulp back the scream.
The obvious man’s hand made things worse. If the puppy hadn’t surged toward it in a frenzy of happiness, licking at the same object that disturbed Tara greatly, she might have escaped and never looked back.
Instead, her conscience kicked in and she knew her responsibility. She tried to call 911, but her phone showed no signal. It was older and Tara often couldn’t get it to work when it should have.
Approaching with trepidation, calling herself all kinds of fool, her mind shrieked for her to get away, run, save herself, and the puppy. Which was ridiculous when she realized that same canine traitor was frolicking with the hand in jubilant welcome.
Slowly, with much care, she pushed the puppy away and warily picked up the wrist, feeling for a pulse. Not having any real medical experience, she let go and then searched her own wrist for the exact location and then rechecked again. Yes! It was there. A beat that seemed to be strong.
Before she could pull away the hand grabbed hers and the blanket rolled off the arm of the figure struggling to make her heed. A deep male tone full of husky pleading, with still no face to attach it to, whispered, “Please, help, the puppy is stuck.”
When she heard the man’s voice, the fluffball again ran forward and jumped on the mattress to dig at what Tara figured would be his face. Finally, the cover slid back enough so she saw the man completely. He greeted the ecstatic dog first. “Oh brat, you’re okay. Thank goodness.”
Then he looked toward the light where Tara had shone her flash. “Could you lower the glare please?”