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Dead alley–Rob leaps to grasp at a fire escape and scrambles up. They’re snarling at his heels, and he has no idea what to do when he gets to the roof.

There’s someone up there, wearing a coverall with the sleeves ripped out and holding three thick coils of test line. Each is tied to a huge, cruel hook. Her hair is ragged and pink.

“I’m Dogcatcher,” she says, grinning. “Thanks for playing bait, Prentice. I owe you one.”

They top the roof behind him, and see her too. Their faces aren’t human, but they can show fear well enough.

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