Elf [Book One of The Elf Chronicles]

Panting, he kept his eyes focused on the big tree in the distance.
 He was halfway there, when the howling broke out again.

***

 The howls were broken by the roar of a powerful engine, yelps, the squeal of tyres, and a scraping of metal. Zander twisted, and saw Mac's car go side-sliding into the pack. Hounds were jettisoned across the road, and one ploughed into Zander, tossing them both back on the ground. The hound continued to writhe, and Zander, panicked, rolled away.
 Mac's car was still in motion. It slammed into a curb, which sent it rolling over and over. The whining squeals of the hounds were drowned by the clanging bang, the crunch and shrieks of torqued metal and shattered glass. As the car came to a shuddery halt, upside down, there was a hissing sigh, as though the engine had given its last breath.
 Mac...
 Get him out. Zander hitch-crawled across the paving toward the car, as fast as he could. He was in a shocky daze, filled with glittery blood spots and whining canines with glowing eyes. With cars that sighed out a last breath, and fetid panting at his back.
 At his back...
 The last things he remembered were the now-familiar teeth tearing into his shoulder.

***

 Quist roared into a scene from hell. He was on his phone to emergency services before he'd even slowed the bike. There was Mac's car upside down, and there was Zander, being savaged by a massive black dog. As Quist drew closer, he saw the giant beast lift Zander off the ground and shake him. In his headlight, froth and saliva and blood flew everywhere. Quist felt sick.
 And angrier than he'd ever been in his life. He opened up the throttle and gunned the engine. As the dog turned flaming eyes his way, Quist ran it down, in a satisfying crunch of meat and bone. The teeth were yanked free of Zander's skin, and in his periphery, Quist saw Zand linger briefly on his knees, before toppling over, onto the asphalt.
 Where the bristly dog hair had brushed Quist's hand, his skin reacted, in a hair-standing, gooseflesh-dancing wave of revulsion. His nostrils flared in a sneer at the dark-haired mass now crushed beneath his feet. Lips curled in aversion, he leaped off the bike, then moved swiftly to haul Zander's bleeding body out of contact with that vile form - and away from the now-slackened jaws.
 Quist lifted Zander up, and balanced him over one shoulder. He could feel the warmth of his friend's blood pulsing down across his back. It was in such contrast to his centre, which felt abnormally chilled. For a moment, Quist tensed, scared, until his keen ear picked up the irregular thudding of Zander's heart.
 Still alive. But for how long?
  Mac! he yelled worriedly at the car.
 Still, came a mumbled response. Zander?
 Not good. You? Quist heard a low rumbling growl, and squatted next to the broken windscreen, his back to the crunched metal. Around him, there was a shifting in the blackness, and his eyes searched their surroundings warily. The hounds were coming back for more. He was beginning to wish he'd left his bike running. Can you get out?
 There was a grunt, and a thud, and Quist flinched. He had a feeling Mac had just landed headfirst on the roof. You okay? he asked again.
 Yes, Mac replied, but his voice sounded strained. I'm coming out.
 There was a warning snarl to Quist's left, and he felt a tremor as a heavy body bounded onto the car at his back.
 Near Zander's head.
 Negative, he hissed to Mac.  Move over! We're coming in!

***

 The next few seconds were something out of nightmare.