Thunder rumbled in the distance. Hot, wet wind blew against his back. A storm was coming.

"Over here! Hurry!" Sarah pointed to a fig tree as rain drops the size of grapes splattered against the street. Overhead, sickly green clouds promised worse to come. Off to their right, jagged blue lightning arced.

"A tree in a thunderstorm?” Ben pushed a glistening branch out of the way. Fargo, their copper husky, pulled ahead and ripped the leash from his hand at another crackle of thunder. “I really don't think this is the best idea.”

Fargo whimpered and nosed his hand. Ben patted the dog's head absently and settled beside him. His pants were soggy immediately. Moisture hung thick in the air beneath the tree. Drops of water splashed down from the canopy, feeding the reservoir below. The scent of decaying wood and leaves was stuffy here. Hopefully they would not be here long. The radar indicated this was a small pop-up cell.

Sarah stood to the side a ways and gazed out from their shelter as the rain fell in torrents and wind stirred puddles into mist. Small hail mixed in with the downpour, bouncing off leaves and staining he summer-green grass with its unworldly white hue.

Another flash of lightning seared his eyes with pure brilliance. The air ripped apart and the ground shuddered as thunder crashed all around. He shouted above the tempest. Fargo whined and pressed his quivering body against him. Ben put a steady arm around the dog's chest and pulled him close. Fargo immediately sank as far into his soaked shirt as he could. “Sarah! I really don't think this is a good idea!”

Her face was as pale as ice. She regretted it too. “We're stuck! I'm not going out there while it's like this!” He thought she said something else, but an explosion deafened him and its flash turned the world solid white.

Then all became darkness.

---

Consciousness retuned slowly. Ben tried to sit up, but every nerve in his arms blazed with fire, and he fell nose-first to the soggy ground.

“Oh my God, it's moving! It's waking up!”

Do I look that bad? He whimpered. I didn't know I made that sound. “Enhh...” Had the tree been struck by lightning?

Clarity slowly eased its way to his mind. Sarah! Fargo! Were they okay? He tried to get up again, but his body wouldn't let him. His legs felt strange beneath him. Were they broken? Odd, he felt no pain. Well, outside the strange staticky prickles all up and down his body.

A tangle of voices molested his ears. “What should we do? Get the police! I've never seen this before. How's the girl doing? She's fine.” From the sound of it, a crowd had gathered. They spoke at once like some sort of multiheaded monster.

Ben groaned and ran his fingers through his hair. It felt...soft, and there was something lumpy up there. Something tactile.

What...?

He rubbed his face. Nothing felt right. His nerves must have taken a lot of damage. His hand rubbed across Fargo's cold wet nose.

"Hey, boy,” he said.

Or rather, he tried to say. What came out instead was something unintelligible. Garbled vocalizations, like Fargo made when he wanted to go out. He was close by.

He reached and rubbed Fargo's nose again. But wait. No, that wasn't right. That was his nose, protruding out from a misshapen face.

His eyes snapped open. A grotesque, white-furred hand with pink pads over the palm and fingers greeted his gaze.

He yelped, jumped up, tripped over himself.

Again the voices, “Kill it! What's that on him? Are those clothes? This thing killed someone!”

He tucked his tail between his legs and backed up until splinters pressed into his back. “I'm innocent!" He said. “What's going on? Where's Sarah? Where's Fargo?”

Or tried to say. But all that came from his inhuman mouth were the lunatic ravings of a cornered creature.