Taylor blinked in surprise. "I thought you said you weren't being followed?" the girl asked her. Her facial expression barely changed, though her tone carried a hint of irritation.
"I wasn't," Taylor said. "But this thunderstorm makes it hard to tell if that's true or not." She suddenly felt uneasy, and spoke to the man next. "I'm not wanting trouble either. I just wanted out of the rain. Had no idea there was anyone here."
"I forget to set up a tripwire once..." the girl muttered, and shook her head. "Look, I just want to be left alone. So stay until the rain stops, but--" She froze mid sentence. Taylor almost asked why, but she heard it through the rain after straining her ears: bells. Simple jingle bells, like one would hang on a Christmas tree, coming from where Taylor assumed was the back door. The girl quickly handed Taylor her weapons. "They're here."
How long had it been since the pack had had a decent meal? Weeks? Months? Living only off of small game like rodents had left them famished. The hatchlings had been devoured once things had gotten desperate. It was an act that had torn at their maternal and paternal instincts like a dagger to the gut, but it had been necessary for survival. More babies could be born, but only as long as the pack was healthy enough to lay eggs and rear the young.
Then came a new sensation to all but the oldest member of the pack: an overwhelming urge, as if drawn by a siren's song, to come and join the hunt. Overwhelming hunger made them throw all caution to the wind. Scents of raptors that would have normally made them wary barely triggered anything in their fight-or-flight response. The eldest member of the pack, an old female who was blind in one eye, knew this sensation. She had felt this before. She had answered this siren's call in the past.
Unlike the others in the pack, the old female knew what was in store, and who was calling them. She knew the dangers that waited, even after the one calling them was satiated. If it were possible, she would have taken her pack and led them in the opposite direction. Unfortunately, between how they were biologically wired and the pack's hunger, she knew that was physically impossible to do that now.
The old female could smell the humans now, as well as one of their vehicles. She started salivating. She may die, but her pack might very well survive and finally be able to eat. However, she also knew that the odds were against her pack making it to the end of the day.
"Whoever holed up here before me welded the back door shut," the girl went on, her tone quieting. "However, they didn't do anything about the doorknob. So I set it up so that if anything fiddled with it, I'd know." Taylor slung her rifle over her shoulder and readied her revolver. "They're going to go around to the front. They smelled us, they heard the bells."
"Any way out?" Taylor asked.
"There's rooftop access through the walk-in freezer. Up the ladder, then there's a fire escape."
"Not much good. Bigger breeds can jump up without much problem, and smaller ones can climb or fly to the roof." She glanced at the man. "Looks like you're holing up with us for a while." She heard a deep, barking call from outside. It was one of the larger breeds.
"Move!" the girl hissed at the two of them.