She had promised Clint that she would be careful, and Rosalind had every intention to keep her word. The last thing she wanted was to make the archer worry even more about her well-being. But even her best intentions were of no match against Grimoire's will to harm nearly every person within the city limits.
Rosalind had barely been in the lab for five minutes before she heard the sound of growling and clawing at the door. She turned to see a large, decaying Doberman eagerly trying to get inside. And then another appeared behind it, followed by two more. Rosalind swallowed hard. Her leg had not fully healed, and in her stubbornness she hadn't brought along her cane. She had, however, her bow and a quiver full of arrows and a cabinet filled with prototype weapons she and her brother had been working on.
She was careful to not draw the attention of the decayed dogs, but she was sure they smelled and heard her every movement. Their ears perked with every step she took, and their heads followed in the direction she moved. Before she could even get into the next room she heard the door breaking on its hinges and the glass breaking. She ran as best as she could toward the back of the lab, the dogs chasing after her while crashing into shelves and tables.
Rosalind's heart was beating quickly as she found one of the storage rooms to barricade herself into. The dogs crashed into the door, and began to paw and growl at it angrily. There were no weapons in this closet, but there a small access panel that lead out the top toward the ventilation. There was a shelf she could use to climb up, and she did so carefully, trying her hardest not to make a sound. She had just made it into the narrow rectangular space when she heard a voice calling out to her.
"Hello," she said in a harsh whisper as she crawled along on her hands and knees. The aluminum bowed a bit under her weight but at least it did not give way. "Whomever is out there be careful," she said. "There are dogs. Monstrous dogs. In the lab."