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Night of the Howling Dogs by Graham Salisbury ©
2007.
All rights reserved.
We’re dead, I thought as I heard the ocean churning toward us. Rumbling and moving slowly at first, then rising up and gaining speed, faster and faster.
“Pop!” Mike shouted, trying to run toward the coconut grove. He never made it.
Water rushed in. It grabbed my ankles, swirled around them and rose higher. I tried to slog inland, but there was nowhere to go. Louie flashed his light out at the mountain of whitewater boiling toward us as the earth continued to sink, taking us down with it. He whipped the light back toward the cliff. Boulders flashed in the beam, tumbling down. In the eerie light two car-sized monsters bounced over our shelter, crushing it, then rolled on to vanish in the oncoming sea.
“Louie!” I howled. The sea was bearing down on us like a garbage truck.
He whipped the light back.
The wall of water came at us head-on, a mountain in the puny beam of light. We stumbled back, falling over rocks we couldn’t see. Going down, struggling to stand. Louie heaved Casey up onto his shoulders and staggered inland. He tried to hang onto the flashlight, but it was lost in the ocean rushing around our waists. The light glowed underwater and went out as it sank.
The ocean knocked me off my feet. I flailed inland, my glasses tight in my fist. I would never let them go. No matter what.
I gasped a last breath … and went under.
Night of the Howling Dogs by Graham Salisbury ©
2007.
All rights reserved.
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