Joe's face felt so tight it would crack as he gazed upon the ruin in front of him. The front entrance of the typical suburban house had been completely demolished. The door was lying on the ground in multiple pieces, and the entrance to the living area was barely standing. The whole first floor had been torn up as if someone had driven a small car through the door and done doughnuts inside. The worst part was the blood. It was everywhere, and big black flies were buzzing about in the summer sun. Joe was weirdly glad there wasn't a body left behind. He knew what had happened here, but it was easier to divorce himself from it mentally without the corpse.

Fresh blood-tinted tracks were heading northwest, away from the house, so Joe felt it was safe to explore the area. Their search didn't turn up much. The level was ruined and empty besides that. Joe guessed the man hadn't lived here but was staying for the night. No one wanted to spend too long in the grim place, so they continued their march northwest after a few more minutes.

As they approached the main street heading north/south, the monster's tracks began heading west toward the fields before Joe lost track of them. It didn't change how exposed he felt out here, but it gave him some small comfort as they explored. They stayed clear of the rift, though Joe didn't see any activity yet. He had one fight to prepare for, now was not the time for getting in an extra scuffle.

Joe spotted his target after only a few minutes of walking, and the group approached it cautiously. A cinderblock carwash that had seen better days. It had been mostly left alone once the automatic brushes and hoses had been scavenged. The doors were heavy and locked into their tracks. A heavy layer of rust had turned the sliding metal into an almost solid wall. It was exactly what Joe needed. Deena stayed on watch while he and Mike got to work getting one of the doors open.

Inside was an empty space with a heavy mildew funk and a few old rats' nests. They had wrestled with the door for a solid hour before they managed to get it open, with all three of them pushing. The screech of rusted metal moving echoed in the still midday air, leaving all of them looking around nervously. They wedged the door open with a pair of five-foot landscaping timbers and got to work. On the way over, they had scavenged some usable material, but it was going to be rough no matter how they did it. There wasn't time for anything else.

Joe was exhausted by the end of the afternoon. Their part of the plan had finished, and they were all heading back to the house. The trip back was relatively quick and completely uneventful, though fear made it a tense affair. No one else reported any issues, and Nik came back shortly after Joe's group arrived. He brought some rabbit meat that had been quickly cooked on the other side of the stream. Everyone received a portion and a berry to make sure no one was malnourished. The kids had graduated to digging up cattail roots for roasting tomorrow. Joe thought back to all the night sounds and figured frog gigging could help their protein deficiency once it was relatively safe to be out at night again.

Naps were arranged for everyone going out that night, though sleep was hard to come by. Joe fell asleep quickly, still tired from the previous night's nerve-wracking watch. It wasn't good sleep, as he tossed and turned before he was woken a couple hours later. The light hadn't started slipping towards evening when the group of five set out towards the carwash. Joe, Diana, Nik, Deena, and Mike walked away with more than a few shed tears. They were hoping for the best, but everyone here knew firsthand that the world they now lived in wasn't a forgiving one.

Joe tried to fix the sights and sounds of the summer afternoon around them into his memory. The feel of the sun reflecting back off the asphalt and the stink of tar when it did. The light breeze blew in his face, carrying the smell of lilac from someone's backyard. It hadn't rained this week, so the dust kicked up slightly with the breeze, tickling the nose and annoying the eyes. He'd never marched into battle in the real world. Rifts had a pervasive unreality to them that made it easier to compartmentalize his nerves and the traumatic experiences inside. It wasn't rational, but neither were people.

The trip to the carwash was anti-climatic. It was what they were hoping for when the group set out, but there wasn't anything to distract them from the task ahead. They picked up some loose fencing boards on the way and arrived at the carwash before sundown despite the stops. The doors were still wedged open, and the final preparations began. Mike helped secure a small ladder in the corner and shore up their improvised barriers in the carwash bay. Finally, two ropes were tied around the supports holding the door. The pressure from the heavy door would warp the timbers soon, but they didn't need this to last long. One way or another, one night would do.

Mike was hoisted to the roof to act as a lookout and hopefully keep him out of harm's way. With his lower level and noncombat Attributes, he'd be a liability in this fight. Joe was the strongest, and he took Nik's plastic sack with him as he walked west. Once he was a hundred yards closer to the corn field, he took out the bodies of two rabbits. Nik had removed and cooked the meat, but blood and viscera would draw in monsters just as well, or so they hoped. With a heavy grunt, Joe threw one of the rabbits into the field. Joe left the other at his feet and ran back to the carwash. On the corner of the lot, he took out the body of a large groundhog. This one was intact with only a few slashes letting its juices leak out.

Joe wasted a little water washing his hands. The smell of old blood and worse things wasn't something he thought he'd ever be able to tune out. The sun went down a half hour later, and everyone sat tense in the darkness. Nik was on a crude platform in the upper corner, away from the open door. Joe and the two ladies were holding their weapons behind a mix of small felled trees and fencing segments wedged into the back third of the car wash bay. It wasn't a great barricade, even given its emergency nature, but it was the best they'd put together in the time that was available.

Everyone sat quietly, occasionally tapping their feet or drumming their fingers as nerves continued to ramp up in the dark. Only Nik made no sound as they waited for something to happen outside. The day's conversations played through Joe's head as he second-guessed every decision that had led him to this point. The hounds were eating people. That wasn't news to anyone at this point, and Joe was determined to do something about it if no one else would. The problem was they had found people, and their hunting ground was steadily coming towards the group's house.

Joe knew it would be smarter to level up before tackling these monsters. Unfortunately, he'd burned their bridge with the local government good and hard, so there was nowhere he could stash the noncombatants while the fighters got stronger. The open road was a death sentence if the red one caught someone. Joe remembered just how fast it was coming out of that field while he sat terrified in the hay mow. Even then, he might have been tempted to risk running back east to Dublin and doing whatever it took to keep people safe, except for one thing. The hounds seemed to be following his scent.

Ever since the farm, wherever Joe went, they seemed to follow close behind. First, it was at the rift when he had his confrontation with Frank. Then it was on a direct path from there to his new house on the far side of town. Each time a victim had been available and the monster had taken the meal rather than continue on its way. Diana had argued that it was a coincidence, and Joe had some sort of martyrdom complex. Joe knew it didn't seem rational, but that was how it felt. Ultimately, despite their misgivings, each person here had followed him into this fight.

An awful warbling baying sounded out nearby to the west. It sounded again closer, and Mike slammed his hand on the roof once. Everyone sat tense and waited for Mike to hit the roof again, but no other sounds came. A single hound had been spotted, and it was go time. Their plan was simple to the point that it almost didn't qualify as anything other than winging it. Since the two monsters often seemed to hunt separately, they would try to take on one at a time. If two showed up, they would drop the door and hope the metal would outlast the monsters.

Nik had pointed out that while vicious, wild dogs will call for their pack or run if a fight is more than they can handle. Joe's solution was simple. They would trap one inside the car wash bay with them. It would keep the monster from running and hopefully reduce the range of any calls it put out. The downside was obvious. There would be no retreat. The rough barricades would hopefully limit the monster's movement and even the odds against vastly superior speed and size. They had one backup measure, but it was a long shot.

The howl came again, closer this time. Mike slammed his hand once again, and everyone stared upwards, waiting for any other signal. When none came, Joe didn't know whether to sigh in relief or frown in disappointment. He kept telling himself that this fight needed to happen, but he would have kept avoiding it if he could. The monster called again, and this time Mike made no sound at all. It was close.

Joe didn't hear anything walk closer, but he heard a deep inhalation of breath, similar to a horse or other large beast. The sound of the groundhog being ripped and chewed a hundred feet from them was what they were waiting for. The ladies were up, and to their credit, neither fumbled with the lighters they used to ignite the makeshift torches. Cloth and pine tar did not smell great, but fighting a monster in the dark would be worse. Nik could barely be seen kneeling on his platform, though Joe thought he saw arrows being dipped in a small glass bottle.

The poison berries were a wild card for the night. Joe had licked one, and the painful cramping of poison had been an almost pleasant counterpoint to the blistering spiciness he tasted. Blistering wasn't a euphemism either. Joe had a literal blister on his tongue until a whiteberry and his regeneration patched things. Those berries were toxic, and they hoped that arrows would get their juice into the monster's bloodstream. Joe had doubts that the amounts would do appreciable damage to a monster that size, but he would take any advantage he could get.

The light and smell had signaled their presence, though Joe was sure the monster knew they were there before the torches were ever lit. Finally, after a nerve-wracking minute, Joe heard the soft clack of claws on the pavement. A red beak showed around the corner first and sniffed the air deeply again. Wide nostrils like a condor were set on the top. No condor Joe had ever seen had three-inch fangs hanging down each side, though. The monster hound walked forward slowly and looked at them.

"Hearthound." Diana spoke in a hoarse whisper. "She had leveled her Identify, and they were curious if it worked on monsters outside of rifts. Her speaking confirmed that it had.

The monster moved slowly, seeming to enjoy itself, though no look of joy passed its cold alien visage. It was even uglier up close, with the vultures beak transitioning to a bald dog's head. The eyes were pure black and seemed to suck in all the light like onyx. Patchy red fur started where its neck met the body, and the rest was vaguely dog-like, though with massive claws. This hound's head came up to Joe's shoulder, and the monster was the size of a motorcycle. Joe corrected himself. It used to be that size. The ugly bastard had gone through a growth spurt. The hearthound growled, a surprisingly high-pitched tone given its size.

"Hey, ugly. I'm sick of your shit. How about you come over here and I'll shove this somewhere painful."

Joe gestured with his glaive while he yelled. The hound's ears fell flat against its head, and the growl intensified. Joe doubted that it spoke English, but the message had been received. The second message was received a moment later when a twang sounded out, and an arrow sprouted from the monster's shoulder. Joe had been worried about the thing spotting Nik before he got the shot off and had offered to be a distraction. The hound was not amused and charged the group, its speed shocking for a creature its size.

"Now!" Joe yelled before the hound was all the way in the doors. The speed was almost double his, and if they hesitated, it might get away. The women yanked on the ropes, and after a moment, the timbers slipped out. The large bay door slammed shut with a crash that echoed in the enclosed space. The hound whipped around and looked at the now closed exit before looking at the humans in front of it. The monster's head whipped upwards, and it howled.

The sound was awful, and it felt like it was crushing Joe's mind in the enclosed space. He saw an arrow falling behind him and glanced up to see Nik with his hands over his ears. The poisoned arrows had been a long shot, but it was doubtful that there'd been enough juice to coat more than a couple more. Joe forced his head forward and caught the hound charging at the makeshift barrier in front of them.

Joe slammed his glaive forward, aiming for the center of the monster's chest. It backed off a step, though only for a second, before going towards Deena. All three fighters moved their weapons into position and prepared to take the charge. The monster stopped suddenly, and an arrow whistled over its head before slamming into the cinderblock wall behind it. Joe resisted the urge to dive forward and land a hit on the suddenly motionless beast. The barriers wouldn't stop the hound, but they would slow the thing down. Without them, Joe wasn't sure he'd even see the strike that would kill him.

This back and forth took place several more times. The hound was testing them to see if someone would break and run. Everyone stood white-knuckled but firm. Finally, Nik landed another shot on the monster's same shoulder. The hound had had enough playing and charged with a full-throated growl that sounded like a snake's hiss mixed with a baby crying. Joe stepped up and thrust his weapon towards its chest. The monster dodged right, and Deena moved forward with a shout. Her hands glowed briefly, and then her spear shot forward faster than usual.

Deena's strike missed, but this time she followed up with a second strike just as fast as the first. It grazed the hound's chest, who jumped back before charging Diana on the other side. Diana didn't have a combat skill, but she did have a spear and thrust it forward. The hound seemed to weave around it, and Joe lunged forward, intent on landing a decisive hit. The monster stepped into the swing, taking a cut along its side but shoulder checking Joe into the ground. He rolled away as fast as he could, and the sound of a clawed paw striking where his head had been a moment earlier proved it to be an excellent decision. Deena had activated her skill again and struck the hound twice in its flank.

Unfortunately, the monster's fur and skin were tough, with the spear only sinking a couple inches each time before stopping. The hound snapped at her, and only the decision to let go of her spear kept Deena from losing an arm. She ran to Joe and helped him up before they retreated to the corner under Nik. The older man fired more arrows, but only a few hit and Joe could see the damage appeared to be minimal. There might have been swelling around the arrows, or it might have been his imagination in the dim and flickering torchlight.

Joe and Diana brandished their weapons, and the hound turned to look at them. Despite the wounds and arrows, its body language was unrushed and dismissive. Joe thought it had taken their measure and decided they weren't a threat. Unfortunately, based on the minute of combat they'd had so far, Joe agreed. Still, he needed to buy some time, and hedghogging in the corner was all that was available. Somehow, he had always known that the fight would hinge on the backup plan.