on a skeletal frame; long dead and now staring and reaching for her.

Keira stood in front of the window, too scared to shine the light out.

It was there.

Standing beside the window, Zeus continued barking over the noise; screeching wail, followed by hissing and spitting. Crash of garbage cans.

“Mommy?” Tad rubbed his eyes, “What’s going on?”

“Just some raccoons, sweetie. Mommy has to do a better job of locking up our garbage. Racoons want our leftover pizza,” she forced a smile.

“C’mon Zeus, enough already,” she called to the dog.

 Zeus stared out the window, hackles raised; clownish black and tan markings twisted with rage.

“Zeus, come here!” Keira pointed at the floor beside her sleeping bag. The dog...

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