Note: This post has been included in one of the new Chapter drafts, please refer to the Index for the current draft of the story.

Please note, this is currently a very rough draft from NaNoWriMo 2007. There will be spelling and grammatical errors afoot as well as flat out bad writing, info dumps, plot holes, flat out contradictions, and uneven characterization and pacing. (Content is also subject to constant change as I take an editing chainsaw to the story.)

Something woke him, but he wasn’t sure what. For a moment he just lay in bed, still half-asleep trying to remember why he’d woken up. It was still dark, so it wasn’t his alarm, and there wasn’t the jolt of terror that normally accompanied nightmares. He was just about to give up and go back to sleep (curiosity rarely won out over REM) when he heard a faint noise from the side yard.

He debated for another moment over whether it was really worth getting out of bed to check, but there had been a string of attempted burglaries over by Todd’s and that was only fifteen minutes away. So he untangled from the sheets, and plodded over to the window, keeping the lights off so as not to alarm any potential criminals. Criminals tended to be armed (or so the news reports kept saying) and he had no real urge to get shot for something as stupid as turning on a light.

He looked out into the darkened yard, noting that the moon was only half full so he couldn’t see as well as normal. He’s have to complain again to the city about the streetlight, but since it only helped three houses he figured they’d just ignore him again. Maybe he could fix it himself if he could get up there somehow.

His train of thought was cut off rather abruptly as he noticed the four dogs hanging out beneath the tree in the side yard. Strays were actually pretty common in the area, but he’d never seen them roaming in packs before. But add to that the fact that all four of them were staring up at his window as if they had expected him to appear was rather creepy. They stared at each other for a long moment and then one of them waged it’s tail in that sort of wary half-wag dogs used when they weren’t sure if he could be trusted not to attack.

It was hard to tell in the moonlight, but the dog looked a lot like the one from the construction yard. But the house they were working on was a good half-hour away and there was no way the dog had managed to follow him thirty-odd miles home. So it had to be a different dog.

There was a shallow bark from one of the dogs, that echoed oddly in the air. Then the pack turned almost in unison and ran towards the back fence. Jon was expecting them to turn, or maybe try and jump it (although it was a good five-foot tall) but they just sort of shivered and ran right through.

He stood there for a long moment, starting at the section of fence.