36
Slowly, and as quietly as he could, Ianto went to the patio door, and pulled back the blinds.
It was no longer snowing, and the snow on the deck was a trampled mess.
Looking left and right all he could see were tracks and larger places where the creatures had rested, lying down, or sitting, during the night.
As far as the things themselves, there wasn't a sign of them.
Gripping the rifle tightly in one hand, he lifted the latch and pulled the sliding door open. It was cold in the house, but the puff of air that came in was even colder, and it brought with it a deep, musky scent, like a skunk, only sweeter.
He sniffed the air. Was that what those things smelled like?
Lucy squeezed in beside him, sniffing, then darted out the door. "Lucy!"
He called as the dog raced across the deck, down the stairs that were covered with trampled snow, and began to sniff furiously at the ground.
"Get back here," he hissed.
Lucy ignored him and squatted. In the quiet he heard a gentle splattering sound. Then, she trotted off and repeated the procedure at the corner of the house.
Ianto put on his boots, and holding the rifle in shaking hands, he stepped out onto the deck.
He crossed the snow and ice covered wood and turned to look at the roof. The snow there was trampled as well. In a few places the snow had completely fallen away, and the black shingles showed through.
He looked down at his feet, seeing the tracks. There were so many of them that it was hard to distinguish them from one another, but every once in a while he got a glimpse of a print, something like an oblong paw, with four toes, one of which was offset to the side a little.
He realized that the little offset toe was a thumb, or something like it.
What kind of animal made these tracks? He didn't know. The only animals he knew of around here with thumbs were racoons, and looking at the tracks, remembering the sounds from, last night they must have been some big-ass racoons.
Lucy returned, still sniffing at the ground.
He called to her and she bounded up the steps, giving him a sharp look as she passed.
Ianto sniffed and looked around again. Other than the disturbances in the snow, and the faint scent, which was even now dissipating, there was no sign of whatever creatures had haunted him last night.
He went back into the house and put on his coat and gloves, then slinging the rifle over his shoulder he went back outside to check on the generator.
What he found both infuriated and terrified him. The cable connecting the machine to the house was frayed and ruined. Something – one of those things – had chewed through it.
Why had they done that?
He couldn't think of a reason, if there was any reason other than one of them had felt a bit peckish in the night.
Ianto opened the fuel cap, and though he couldn't see into the tank, he could smell the gas. The thing would have run through the night if it weren't for the damaged cable. Thank god he had fully charged before it had happened. He cussed as he screwed the cap back into place and went back into the house.
He found his phone underneath the lip of the cupboard under the sink where he had kicked it in the dark. It was intact, but the battery was dead, not that it would have been any use to him fully charged.
He picked up the cordless phone, realized it wouldn't work without power, and barely restrained himself from hurling the useless plastic across the room.
He went to the front door and pulled it open. The snow there was trampled too, and in one hard packed lump of snow a fluff of dark red fur was caught. He knelt beside the tuft of fur. There was more in another spot and he assumed it was from the screeching fight last night.
Lucy whimpered at him from the doorway, and Ianto shushed her.
Standing, he took one last look around before going back inside.
He started the fire in the wood stove, and brought some more firewood inside. He ate some dry cereal straight from the box while Lucy crunched kibble from her bowl, and thought about what to do next.
There was no sign of those things from last night. Where could they have gone?
He no longer had any desire to stay here by himself, but the time to change his mind was long past.
Now all he could do was to wait until the road was cleared. Reserve power or … shit.
Remove the arm?
Although removing the arm would give him another eight hours of power, he didn't want to be vulnerable, knowing it might be the only weapon left in the end.
Just shut it down and keep it slung?
When would the snow plough come through?
He was too far out, and his hopeful expectations of the day before seemed ridiculously optimistic now.
He hadn't even managed to get the driveway cleared yesterday. Even if a plough came by now, he would still have to dig his way out to the road.
I could just start walking. Head down the road to the neighbours. Tell them...just tell them I got spooked being snowed in out here by myself.
But walking would require him to be out in the open.
What if those things came back?
What if they attacked?
Would they attack?