Wilson showed up at the house early Saturday morning, eager to go. A little too early for my liking as I was only half a cup in on my coffee.
I opened the door just in the nick of time before he could get another ring of the doorbell off and wake everyone. Butch looked on indifferently from his little dog bed up on the landing at the top of the stairs.
It started as barking, then turned into growling. Now I heard howling mixed in. I glanced around the table in the conference room. Big Mike, Suck-Up Andy, and Wilson all had their ‘best to ignore it’ looks going.
The lights in the office dimmed. Again. It was the third time in the last ten minutes. This time I found myself sitting in a yellowish glow while the lights flickered and came back to full strength.
It was dusk and the vehicle, if that’s what you’d call it, was sitting outside our house. It was a short, squat box-like thing with a splashy paint job and some logo I couldn’t make out. Then again I was behind the couch peering out through a half-inch wide slit in the drapes.