Read Werewolf Suspense (Book 1): Outage for Free Online

them.
    She moved her hand to the door handle, but couldn't convince herself to open it. Within seconds, the front windshield was completely fogged and covered. She sighed.  
    She'd wait for her husband to get back, and when he returned, they'd go back to the house together.
    With the heat off, the car had cooled considerably, and she found herself rubbing her gloved hands together to keep warm. She patted the car keys in her pocket. Come on, Rob . If her husband didn't hurry, she'd start the car again.  
    Several minutes passed.  
    Abby closed her eyes and reopened them. Regardless of the temperature, she felt herself falling asleep. She'd only slept a few hours, and she was exhausted. It'd be good to slip back under the covers, that was for sure.
    Her husband would keep her warm.
    Abby's anxiety began to dissipate, and in its place was the sense of adventure. Who needed a hotel, anyway? They'd have just as much fun at home.
    They'd make this work. Even if they had to use every blanket in the house to keep warm, they'd manage. As long as they kept their spirits up, they'd get through the storm, with or without power.
    She smiled at the thought.
    It'd been several minutes, and she was getting cold again. Rob still wasn't back.
    She reached into her sweatpants for the car keys, intent on starting the engine. She'd just closed her fist around them when something crashed against the windshield.
    The glass spider-webbed under the weight of a body, and a figure slid down the pane.
    Abby screamed.

Chapter Five

    Abby watched the person slide down the window, then heard the sound of a body hitting the snow.  
    "Rob?" she whimpered.
    Rivulets of blood and snow trickled down the glass, obscuring her view. Oh my God. She opened her mouth to scream again, but panic stifled the sound.  
    Rob! OhmyGodOhmyGod…
    She reached for the door handle and then stopped. She couldn't go out there. The neighbor was probably waiting for her. The man knew she was in the car.  
    She'd known he was dangerous; she'd known something wasn't right.
    She slid down in her seat, doing her best to hide. The body had cleared some of the snow off the windshield, and she had a partial view of the road through the cracked glass. Her heart thumped.
    There was no one else in the road.
    She sat frozen in the seat for several seconds, afraid to speak, afraid to move. She tried to convince herself that nothing she'd seen was real, that the body was a figment of her imagination. Soon she'd wake up in the driver's seat of the car, cursing herself for falling asleep.  
    There was no way this could be happening.
    Not to her. Not to Rob.  
    The wind raged, kicking up a cloud of snow and obscuring her view. She squinted to see through it, envisioning her husband's body on the street. He was injured.  
    She needed to get out and help him.  
    Abby swiveled around the car, searching for anything she could use as a weapon. The car was barren. The only things in sight were a pile of soda cans and some paperwork. She reached under the seats, hoping to find something— anything —but her hands came up empty.  
    She patted her pockets until she came across something solid. Her cellphone. That was it. She'd call the police and get help.  
    Hurry! Dial!
    Her mind raced as she pulled it out, tore off her gloves, and swiped the screen. She pulled up the keypad, fingers shaking, and tapped out the numbers 9-1-1. She hit the connect button and waited. Nothing happened.  
    Was the battery dead?
    Frantic, she stared at the screen, trying to determine what was wrong. The phone blinked at her, as if the device were confused. It took Abby a second to process what was happening. The battery was fine.  
    The service was out.
    Just an hour earlier she'd had several bars, but now there were none. Whether it was related to the storm or not, she wasn't sure, but the phone couldn't help her right now. There was no sign of her husband.  
    Was he lying in the snow, bleeding to death?