Gray (Book 2) Read Online Free Page B

competitors for the little food there was left in the world. “Hey,” she yelled. “Get away from that.” She strode forward another two big steps. Instead of cowering and backing off, the lead dog, the Shepherd, leapt at her.
    Coral lifted her booted foot and kicked at the dog. She registered the sight of its jaws closing around her lower leg before she felt anything. Jerking her leg back, she yelled, “No!”
    The dog paid no attention to her voice but lost its grasp as she yanked her leg to the side. Coral felt, as if from a distance, pain in her calf and shin. She staggered back and the dog growled again, crouching for another leap. Having no other choice, she lifted her bow and nocked the arrow. She let it fly.
    The arrow hit the dog’s forehead and bounced off the bony skull. Still, the arrow’s impact made it hesitate. Coral reached for another arrow and set it to the bowstring. She backed up a stride and shot again, aiming for the animal’s chest.
    This time, the arrow bit and stuck. The dog gave a sharp yelp of pain.
    Coral nocked another arrow and once again aimed for the dog’s chest. It turned from her as she let fly, so she caught it in the flank instead.
    She grabbed a fourth arrow and aimed at the other dog, who looked at her but still gnawed at the fish head. The arrow flew true. She hit it square in the eye. It yelped and dropped its meal, pawing at the wood shaft protruding from its eye. She yelled again, an inarticulate sound, as savage as the dogs’.
    The dogs backed from her but would not turn and run. They must be starved, willing to risk more pain or death to get to the buried meal, scanty as it was. She felt a flash of sympathy for them, but pushed it from her mind.
    The first dog began circling wide, trying to get around her as the second dog lumbered forward. They were using pack techniques on her now. She was a threat to their food. As she spun to keep the first dog in front of her, she set another arrow to her string. She was down to the all-wood arrows now. She shot the first dog again. The arrow hit it in the hip, and it stumbled. The second dog stood its ground,  protecting its meal.
    Coral sprinted up to the first as it turned to bite at the arrow and kicked it, hard. She felt a rib snap under her foot. She kicked again, then danced back from the reach of its snapping jaws. She had only a few arrows left. Again, she turned and shot at the second dog, missing this time barely an inch over its head. The arrow’s passage made the dog drop to its belly.
    She heard a pained noise from the shepherd, clearly the alpha dog, and glanced back at it. It was struggling to its feet, leaning against a boulder that stuck a foot above the snow to help itself rise.
    Hardening her will and her heart, she shot it again and then a quick second time, burying two more arrows into its heaving side. Blood stained the snow around the dog. It turned to bite pitifully at an embedded arrow. She leapt forward and kicked again, this time at the dog’s head. Her boot connected with a resounding crack and a force she felt all the way up to her hip joint.
    The dog stopped moving, dazed. She stepped around it and grabbed its lower legs. With the strength fueled by the adrenaline that pumped through her body, she lifted the dog by its legs. She swept it behind her, then whipped it overhead. The weight of its body swung up, then swooped down, accelerating. She aimed the dog’s head at the tip of rock protruding from the snow, but missed. She hauled it up again, panting with the effort, trying to keep a half-eye on the other animal, too.
    This time, as the weight of the dog accelerated downward, its head found the rock. A sickening crunch, and she felt it go limp. She turned from it and grabbed her last arrow. The other dog was backing away from her.
    “Get out!” she screamed at it. This was her last arrow. And she really didn’t want to kill the second dog. She felt bad enough about the first one. She screamed