There’s a big black dog out there in the street, and it’s pacing back and forth in front of the yard.

It’s hard to really tell what it wants, but I can spy through the window its yellowed teeth and the slime of its saliva dripping from its massive jowls. It looks hungry yet afraid, eyes darting from place to place as it prowls the pavement. Sometimes it glances at the window and the rustling curtains. Has it seen? Will it walk this way, stalking among the broken slabs of sidewalk to the front door?

Front door. What a joke. It’s barely a door; the remnants of a heavy wooden door boarded over by 2x4s and held together by nails and prayers. This massive, hulking hound could break it down with a harsh bark or swat of its massive paw. And then what? A swift pounce and loud growl, and that’s it.

Who does the dog belong to, anyway? It turns this way and for the first time, there’s a clear sign of a collar: black studded leather around its neck. The owner may be close, and that’s a whole new problem. The sun is going down fast, fading as it falls behind the silhouettes of buildings across the street. When it does, the weather will turn chilly fast. A fire won’t just be nice. It becomes a necessity. But lighting the fireplace means flickering flames and crackling wood, with smoke rising from the chimney. Exposure, and the end of this secret observation.

What happens then?

Will this hideaway be revealed, leading the black dog’s absent owner to come searching? Will the dog itself hear the scratch of matches on cardboard? It might turn its head at the first sight of dim light through the barely concealed window, maybe, and howl a warning. If its master is nearby—and there’s reason to believe they are—will the bare minimum of safety and solitude be interrupted?

A voice calls out in the twilight beyond the window, piercing the quiet. It’s a man’s voice, angry and impatient. The dog’s head jerks in the direction of the sound, and from the shadows he appears: clad in ripped fatigues and faded denim. A soldier, maybe? A hunter? Either way, there’s a gun in his hand and a tote bag on his shoulder, a brightly colored Aldi bag that under any other circumstances would elicit a chuckle. For now, the only response is a sucked in breath and a low, slow crouch beneath the frame of the window and the fervent wish and silent prayer that the drapes don’t stir as a result of the movement.

“Hey! C’mon! Let’s go!” the man yells to the dog, kicking at the air between them.

But the dog doesn’t move. It turns to the house. Did it see something? Was the slow, deliberate attempt to get out of sight enough to set it off?

No. The dog bounds over to its master and looks up, then to the house. There’s a whimper, barely perceptible beneath the sounds of the wind and the muffling of the barely open window. 

Open.

Damn. Maybe it smells something. Perhaps the faint sliver of open air between the bottom of the framed glass pane and the window frame is enough to let a scent pass through. Perhaps the crack between the boards and the door frame are just wide enough to alert the dog to the presence of this house’s occupant.

That must be it, because a moment later, the gunman begins the slow tentative trek up the busted sidewalk toward the porch. He raises the gun up ready and pauses. Scanning the front of the house for movement. Instinctively, the body tenses in the window and that’s enough. His eyes widen in surprise and he shouts.

That’s the very moment when I know it’s too late.

There’s nowhere to run. Nowhere to hide. The dog barks. The man yells again. The gun goes off, a deafening explosion just feet away; Glass shatters and rains down from above. There’s a momentary panic before sudden sharp pain, and wet redness—it has to be red, right?—trickling down over eyebrows and over closed eyelids. Hands gasp blindly in the dark for something, anything to help. The dog is barking again, over and over, concussive loud noises as it bangs against the battered frame of the door.

Beneath the noise, there’s the faint sound of footsteps crunching close, and another bang.

Then silence and nothing else after.