“Take it easy,” Sandy said. “In that bag you look like a big fat hot dog with a face.”
“Not so loud,” Jerry cautioned him. “The wolves might hear you. Just hurry and get me out of here.”
Between them they finally got the sleeping bag unzipped, and Jerry rolled out. Sandy took the Army .45 out of his pocket and checked the clip. There were still four shells in it.
“Do we have any more ammunition for that cannon?” Jerry asked anxiously.
“Probably up front in Charley’s gear. I’m going up to get it.”
“I’m going with you,” Jerry said promptly. “One of those wolves might poke his snout in here while you’re gone.”
They scrambled out into the blizzard and stood up. Sandy switched on the flashlight and swept it in a wide circle about them. The powerful beam seemed to run into a solid wall of white no more than fifty feet away. He turned it on the dogs, who were setting up such a loud racket that it drowned out the howling of the wolves. The huskies were all on their feet now, standing stiff-legged with their tails curled tightly beneath their bellies. Their lips were drawn back over their teeth, and the thick fur around their necks bristled like porcupine quills. Sandy swung the light in the direction of their gaze, and felt his heart flip and miss a beat. Glowing greenishly through the falling flakes was a circle of eyes. They were there for just an instant and then faded back out of range of the beam.
Jerry gripped Sandy’s arm tightly. “There must be a whole pack of ’em. They’re just waiting for us to fall asleep and then they’ll jump us.”
One of the huskies began to slink forward toward the wolves, his belly flattened close to the ground.
“Come back here, boy!” Sandy shouted. “They’ll tear him to pieces,” he muttered to Jerry. He cocked the automatic and aimed in the direction of the glowing eyes. “I hate to waste ammo like this, but maybe we can scare them off.”