Chapter 2

Charlotte's POV

Hot air pours into the car, thick with the rank smell of wild animals.

The dogs nearby prick their ears up instantly. The biggest one, the pack leader, bares its teeth and creeps toward the car.

"Are you out of your mind?!" Tyler jerks back into his seat. "Roll the window up!"

I look at them, unbothered. "You wanted to feed them, didn't you? I'm just making it easier."

Chelsea, who a second ago was begging to get out, goes white the moment she spots the lead dog closing in, now less than five yards from the door.

She's still clutching the pack of hot dogs, but her body is already leaning back toward the driver's seat without her even realizing it.

"Charlotte, you, you gotta roll it up! It's coming!" Chelsea's voice shakes, and all that put-on sweetness from a minute ago is gone.

I look at her, almost amused. "What, weren't you just saying you wanted to go hug something small and helpless? Go on, throw it. The hot dogs are right there in your hand. Don't keep the poor thing waiting."

"Charlotte, that's enough!" Tyler jumps back in the second he sees Chelsea losing ground. "You know how dangerous this is and you're rolling the window down just to scare her? What is wrong with you? Roll it up and just drive!"

I shoot him a cold look.

That's the exact question I wanted to ask him last time. When the dogs were tearing into me, wasn't locking that door pretty messed up too?

"Tyler, get your facts straight. This is my car, I paid for the gas, I picked the route. You two are the ones who wanted to stop here and feed them. I'm just giving you what you asked for, and now you're mad at me?"

I say it while reaching over and turning on the voice recorder on my phone.

Chelsea, seeing that Tyler can't shut me up, grits her teeth like she's trying to save face and actually tears open one of the hot dogs, tossing it out through the gap in the window.

"Here you go, poor little thing." She says it loud on purpose, shooting me a defiant look.

The hot dog lands in the red dirt outside the door.

One of the dogs sniffs at it warily, then swallows it whole.

Then it drops its front legs low, a growl rumbling in its throat, and suddenly rears up, slamming both paws against the door.

The whole car rocks with the impact.

A huge, reeking head presses right up against the window glass, its cloudy yellow eyes locked on Chelsea.

Chelsea lets out a sharp scream and practically throws herself at me in fright.

"Get off me!" I shove her back into her seat, not gentle about it at all. "Don't touch me."

"Charlotte! Are you trying to get us killed?" Tyler's shouting from the back seat now. "Drive! Just drive!"

"Drive?" I let out a cold laugh and kill the engine. "Chelsea just threw food out there. As far as they're concerned, this car is a food source now. If I start the engine, they won't just chase us, they might tear up the tires too. You two made this mess. You can deal with it."

I turn around and look at the two of them, still shaken. "Let me break it down for you one more time. Dingoes aren't pets. They're crawling with parasites and carrying diseases that can kill you."

"That one just had its paws on my door and its spit all over the window. Here's some free advice, when you get out later, stay away from that side of the car. And if either of you catches something nasty from this, don't come to me for the medical bills."

Chelsea buries her face in her hands, tears dripping down. "Tyler, look at her. She's cursing me out and shoving me around. I was just trying to do something nice and now I'm the bad guy?"

Tyler reaches over to comfort her, pulling her arm gently, and the look he gives me is full of disgust. "Charlotte, I really had you figured wrong. Whatever Chelsea did, that doesn't mean you get to be this cold. Once we hit the next camp, we're done. And trust me, we don't want anything to do with this piece of junk car of yours either."

"Sounds good to me." That's exactly what I want to hear.

I pick up my phone, make sure the recording saved, and glance at him sideways. "Remember you said that. The second we hit camp, you're both out of my car. Don't even think about dragging me along on your little death trip."

The dog lingers outside the window for a bit, and once it's clear there's no more food coming, it scratches at the glass a couple more times before giving up. At the sound of the others calling, it turns and slinks off, disappearing into the brush.

Once I'm sure it's safe, I start the car again, floor the gas, and speed off toward the camp.