Bennie counted one, two, three, and the wood splintered with a cracking sound. The hole had gone from a quarter to a fist, and it had blackened like a solar eclipse, so she knew it was dark outside. The animal would be back soon. She pounded harder than before, smashing the heel of her palm against where the wood splintered. It cracked again. She grabbed the wood with her bandaged hand and pressed up. The piece broke, but was still hinged to the wood.

“HELPPPPP!” she screamed. She didn’t know how far underground she was, but it couldn’t be that far, judging from the light through the hole. Maybe somebody could hear her shouting. She wrenched the wood back and forth until she could tear the piece off. She thrust her arm through the hole, threw the chunk of wood out, and started all over again.

She pounded on the hole, ignoring the pain. She had to get free, she felt it like a wild desire, a natural force that fueled her, propelling her upward. She didn’t smell the filth anymore, only the earth that kept falling inside the box, shaken loose. She heard the splintering again, busted off another piece and pressed it backwards, grunting with exertion. It gave way and broke off, widening the hole to the size of her shoulder. She let the wood piece fall and started pounding next to it, bashing as hard as she could. The animal could come back any minute.

Sweat poured over her face but she kept breaking the hole until it was almost big enough for her head. Dirt fell onto her eyes, and she heard a shuffling above. A shadow chased across the hole, maybe three feet from her face. The animal was back, growling. Terror struck. Her throat and face lay exposed. She shrieked.

Suddenly the animal jammed his snout through the hole, frenzied and growling. Jaws snapped inches from her nose. Saliva dripped on her cheek. She squeezed herself against the side of the box. She screamed again and again.

The animal rammed his snout farther down, frenzied. His breath reeked of carrion. She kicked the lid to scare him, but he kept coming, driving her against the side of the box. She fumbled for the piece of wood she had dropped. She prayed it had a jagged edge.

She heard somebody roaring, like a war cry, and it was her. Her fingers found the wood piece. She stabbed the animal, slicing his lip. He writhed in pain. His head got caught in the hole. He couldn’t back out. It was do or die for the both of them.

The animal bit down. Sharp teeth raked her fingers and ripped her bandage. She stabbed again. She cut his nose, and he roared in protest, throwing his head this way and that, the movement trapping his head inside.

She stabbed again and again, finally jamming the knife into his mouth, where it stuck. His terrified yelp gave her an opening. She punched his snout again and again. The animal backed out of the hole yelping in distress.

She reached up, grabbed the edge of the hole, and wrenched the wood back and forth frantically until it cracked off. Still the hole wasn’t large enough for her. She attacked the hole again, desperate. Another piece splintered off, a skinny shard shaped like a spike.

Yes.

Dirt fell in the box. The animal yelped and cried on the surface, about a foot over head. A circle of black sky glimmered above her. She waited for the right moment. The animal ran back and forth over the hole. The cries and scuffling came closer.

Go.

She launched herself upward, leading with the spike. Her head exploded through the hole to the surface. The animal screamed. It was a skinny wolf, brown and gray in the moonlight. But she felt like a wolf now, too. Lethal, primal. She embedded the wood in the fur of his underbelly, his skin hot against her knuckles.

The wolf whipped his head around, his canines bared. The whites of his eyes showed terror and fury. She let her arm drop, and the wolf bolted away, yelping.

She scrambled out of the hole and reached the surface, panting hard. Listening for the wolf. His cries sounded farther and farther away. She felt an urge to go after him, hunt him down, and finish him off. She ran a few steps but she suddenly didn’t have the strength.

She fell to her knees and collapsed, utterly exhausted. Bloodied. Shaking, as her adrenaline ebbed away, leaving her lying face-down in the grass. In the middle of an open field, under a night sky and a full moon.

Alive.

Alice sat in the passenger seat of the car, trying to look stricken. She couldn’t make herself cry, so she aimed for numb with grief, which was more like Bennie anyway. Luckily it was dark, so no Academy Award performance was required. Grady steered the car from the Penn campus, heading home in silence, his eyes glistening like a complete loser.

“I know how hard a decision that was for you,” he said, his hands on the wheel.

“We did the right thing. It’s selfish to make him suffer.”

“That’s true, but it’s the passing of an era.”

No, it’s the passing of a dog, dude.

Grady hit the gas as the light was about to turn red, and the Lexus cruised forward in light traffic. “You know what’s bugging me?”

Let me guess. Why you can’t get it up?

“It’s bugging me that he’ll be alone while they put him down. All by himself.”

Oh, please. “I can’t stay with him. I couldn’t take it.”

“I know.” Grady slowed the car, cranked the wheel to the left, and made a U-turn. “I want to be with him. I want him to know that we loved him. Wouldn’t you feel better, knowing I was with him?”

Alice suppressed an eye-roll. “But you upset him.”

“Maybe I just surprised him. He used to be my buddy, remember, we ran together? I’ll go and be there with him, so he’s not alone.”

Alice tried to think of the Bennie-like response. She didn’t want to make him suspicious, after Mary’s phone call. “Okay. I really appreciate it.”

“Good. I just hope I get there in time.”

“Me, too.” Alice forced a little hiccup that would sound like a stifled sob. “This is really great of you.”

Grady hit the gas, slid his cell phone from his back pocket, and flipped it open. “Perfect. My battery’s dead.”

You’re telling me.

“I didn’t charge it last night. Do you have your phone with you? I want to call the hospital and tell them not to do anything until I get there.”

“Good idea.” Alice fumbled in Bennie’s messenger bag, but there was no BlackBerry. “I forgot it this morning. I was too distracted. Sorry.”

“That’s okay, we’re only a few blocks away. Hang on.” Grady sped up Spruce Street, running a red light, and they were at the vet hospital in less than five minutes. He parked in the emergency parking, cut the ignition, and placed a comforting hand on her shoulder. “You sure you’re okay here?”

“Yes.”

“I’ll tell him you love him.”

“Thank you.” Alice was so bored with all this talk about the stupid dog. “Sorry I’m not coming in.”

“Try to rest, and hang in there.” Grady gave her a quick kiss, jumped out of the driver’s seat, and jogged to the entrance of the hospital, disappearing inside.

Alice breathed a relieved sigh. She switched on the radio and found a hip-hop station playing Usher, then Justin Timberlake and Ludacris came on, and if they played anything sexier she’d be rocking the car all by herself. Finally Grady reappeared at the hospital exit, leaving with his head down. She snapped off the radio and pretended to be dozing as he hustled toward the car and opened the door. She faked waking up and looked at him.

“I can’t believe it,” she said, drowsily. “I must have fallen asleep.”

“You’re exhausted from last night.” Grady gave her a hug, and she could feel wetness on his cheek.