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Show Night Keys/15 seat coverings. Three of the dogs entered in tandem behind him, their claws tick-ticking softly on the concrete. The eyes of the first reflected briefly the corridor light, then seeing him, its ears flattened and it began a low growling. The other two flanked the first and moved tentatively forward, heads low. He tried to leap up the boat seats into the higher darkness but the stack gave way crashing and with the Detex strangling him his leg twisted and he flew backwards. He landed flat on his back. Eyes open and mouth open, his hands like crab claws in a wide rigid grasp at nothing. One of the dogs yelped and the other two were almost on top of him and set up a roar of barking and growling. He was sucking air and forcing it out in short shouts. The dust was everywhere. He was twisting, kicking, on his feet, and he struck out wildly with his billyclub, blind with dust and sweat stinging and the still reverberant thud of his head on the concrete. He struck air. Struck a fabric roll with a loud slap. The room was full of snarling and whining. He struck again, each blow with a shout. The dogs were huddled against the back wall stacks. He could see them now. The eyes of one and then another catching the corridor light with a quick brightness Harris kept pounding and shouting. Faint dust clouds rose from the fabric rolls. He could see that he was cutting off their escape from the room. But he kept striking faster and harder and his breaths came in quick sobs which he could hardly take in as he kept shouting what wanted to be words, Genie or other words, but they weren't words and kept coming out anyway until his throat was raw, and they began to sound like squeals. Then he stopped. His face was streaming. The room was a cloud. There was a small whine from one of the dogs but then they were silent. One of them started to slink away to the left. He made a hoarse sound |