Michael Malone - Weebly

doing was shaking her until her neck snapped.
At the end of Long Branch Road, Henry was
standing, looking north across the small, turbulent falls
of the Rampage. On the other side of the river, the
shabby, red brick building that housed Dingley Optical
Instruments was closed and dark. Dim shapes scurried
across Falls Bridge. They were dogs, nearly a dozen of
them, and as they raced at him now, he curled his palm
around the .45 in the pocket of his nylon windbreaker.
Then he recognized Night, his German shepherd,
among the leaders and called to him with a whistle. The
pack moiled around Henry's legs while he strapped his
belt through Night's collar as the huge black dog leaped
to his shoulders to lick at his face.
When they reached Ransom Circle, the dog began
to bark, scrabbling off to the right, toward Chin and the
center of Dingley Falls, although Henry had turned left
onto Hope Street. The two fought for control until,
struggling against the dog's weight, the thin man
stumbled. "You motherfucker cocksucker," he yelled,
spitting out the curse as he yanked so savagely on the
leash that the shepherd toppled for a second off