Selfers
"Are they gone?" she whispered.
Slowly, I raised my head, bringing my nose into the air, seeking a hint, a trace of the wild dogs that pursued us. There was only old trace; they were gone. "I think so."
Turning my head slightly and raising my ear-tops, I straining for the slightest sound: padded feet on the ground or scratching at the door. But there was nothing.
Thin trails of light found their way through the rotting wood of the old barn. The smell of several decaying grazers hid us from the noses that hunted our scent. A breeze drifted through the high open window. I lifted my head to let the scents drift over my face. Still nothing.
"Can we go?" asked Lexi. She was older by a year, but lacking patience. Maybe it came with the change; I was willing to wait there all day in order to ensure that the fleshers were gone. Lexi was all human and still had the weaknesses that had hampered that species in the early days. It was not her fault.
"Yes, but we have to get back to the settlement quickly."
The bright sunlight made me squint. Lexi looked around. "You see anything?" I asked her. Lexi's eyes were better than mine in this light. Mine had a protective film to help filter the harsh rays of the Sun. It was said that in early times people enjoyed exposing their skin to the sunlight, but that was when it was pure and not filtered through several toxic layers of poisonous atmosphere. It was also said that people would dance in the rain. That was one story I could not believe. People have been known to be burned and blinded by rain.
"I don't see them," said Lexi. "They must have found easier prey. There have been grazers here; perhaps there are more around."
"Come on," I said, extending a hand to Lexi, "They won't stay away long, they'll come back."
Lexi took my hand and stepped out of the old barn. She looked around fearfully; her full-human eyes saw what was there: the ground, trees, bushes and the barn. I saw the heat of the day, the flies buzzing, the small animals scurrying. My eyes saw temperature and motion, a gift from my father; I was a Changeling.
"Which way?" I asked. She pointed in the direction of the rising sun, the way we had come. We began walking together, a foot apart, ready to run, defend or attack - or die - at any moment.
As we walked, I saw our mother in Lexi. She was strong and pale like Lexi, with dark hair and bright eyes, a ready smile. Lexi was like her. So was I in many ways.
Lexi's father was killed a few months after her birth. Our mother took solace in my father's arms. He died a year later; I don't remember him. He is now believed to be one of the first Changelings, those who developed sharper hearing, different eyesight and enhanced sense of smell. We are called Throwbacks in some places, but as the survival of a community often depends on our heightened senses, it is thought best not to offend us.
So 26 years ago, when I was born and my eyes shown a shaded deep red, there was fear and comfort at the same time. Something strange had been born into their midst, but something special too. The dogs could hear us, but I could hear the dogs. The dogs could smell us, but I could smell the dogs.
We came to a small cluster of buildings, dilapidated and falling down, like the barn in which we had hidden. One building bore a sign that said, "Post Office." In times past one could write on paper and send it to another person far away, taken by a trusted member of the group, and it would arrive and they could read your words. It must have been wonderful! I let my mind wander to think of a time when someone beyond your horizon, beyond your ears or nose, could see your words; when you could give your words to another, safe in the knowledge that it would be delivered to the intended person.
My nose told me dogs had come this way, but hours ago. We continued on through the deserted village silently. Talking in the open could bring sudden attack. There were places in such a village where dogs could hide, then leap suddenly. I strained my ears for tell-tale signs, but there were none; there was just the breeze and the creaking of wood.
In my grandfather's time, before the war, as it was said, there was a great deal that was different. Roads were filled with self-propelled wagons that carried people down streets with strange names: Main Street and Broad Street - which was not as broad as Center Street - which was not in the center of anything.
The war began suddenly and ended suddenly. There were great holes in the ground, some so large you cannot see the other side, where it is said great towns stood, with buildings that went high into the sky. The war caused so much explosive destruction, the polar caps melted and the coastal lands were lost. There were not as many streams and rivers then, the lakes were smaller and the rain fell less frequently and less violently.
Before the war, people got their water daily from an in-home source. We still saw them in the houses, but they no longer dispensed water. Food came from central dispensing stations filled with containers of all kinds of food from all over the countryside. Lamps would not need refueling, but would be fed from a thin tube connected to the walls of the house. They did not know the delicate balance of their lives.
After the war, when the food was gone from the dispensing centers, the people turned to stealing from each other. It was the wild time when there was no balance, everyone was against everyone else. Life was not considered precious, unless it was yours.
By the time I was grown, a sense of balance was being restored. There were a few with talents, such as butchering, who knew how to slaughter and prepare an animal as food. Others knew other things and shared them, becoming mentors to the remaining people, bringing about our society. We exist by helping each other. People are helpers, it's the way of life. Being alone is the way of death.
There were those who use their knowledge for themselves. Selfers, they are called. Selfers take food and let others starve, steal what they need for themselves and leave others without. Selfers, when caught, are fed to the dogs.
Once there were wild animals living without bothering humans, but no one has seen them in decades. There were also domesticated animals, pets, kept by humans as companions. They either starved or were eaten by dogs. Wild cats still roam, which is good, because they keep the rat population under control, but most have been eaten by dogs. The dogs have eaten almost everything. The dogs survived better than anything else.
"Here!" A single word from the side shook me from my memories, memories of days I have only heard of; memories before my time. A door opened from one of the small buildings and a man stood in the doorway holding a rifle and waving to us. Lexi hesitated. He could be a Selfer. I raised my head, sniffing.
"Bix?" Lexi looked at me, fearfully waiting for my assessment.
"He has a woman and children in there. They are not afraid." I said.
The man opened the door wider for us, waved us in quickly then closed it once we were inside.
In the darkened room, my eyes widened to take in every scrap of light. There was a woman at the window with a pistol in her hand. She smiled, then turned her head to peer out at the street. In the corner were two children, about 5 and 7, eating a colorless porridge quietly.
"You're a Changeling." said the woman, turning her head back to me. She did not seem threatening, so I relaxed to set her at ease.
"Some. I can smell them." I have found it wise to not offer up too much to strangers, even in these helpful times.
"More than that, I think," said the woman, getting up. "You hungry? We have some hot porridge left, not much else."
"Yes, please," Lexi said, then looked at me a little fearfully. Though older, Lexi looks to me for protection.
"Yes, that would be very nice." I said, trying to sound polite.
The man sat at the table, leaning the rifle against the edge. "Where you been?"
"We were checking on a rumored stash of tinned and packaged food on the south side of the crater down there in the valley. We heard there was a warehouse not yet discovered that might have stores. The dogs caught our scent. We made it into an old barn and waited until they found other prey."
"You were lucky," said the man as the woman put food in front of us. It was a small bowl with a spoon, like in front of the children. The woman took some herself and sat with us, eating freely. My guess was that she was trying to show us the food was safe. I lifted my spoon. There was no ill-smell or taste, so I put the spoon into my mouth. Lexi saw me and did the same.
"I'm Sarge, this is Kate; that's Kiley and Smith. Upstairs is another family and next door three more. This used to be a clothing shop." He waved a hand at the shelves, mostly empty and dusty.
"I am Bix, this is Lexi, we are from North Hill over by the river."
"Well, Bix," said Sarge, "you got family there in North-Hill-by-the-River?"
"My mother is there with her husband and two more little ones. There are 17 families in all." I spoke between bites, I was hungry.
"Two little ones. Changelings?" asked Kate, also between bites.
"No, my father didn't live long. Sometimes the Change is not enough." I allowed myself a moment of sadness, but only a moment. Even in these helpful times, it is best to be on guard. Some Selfers have grown very cunning.
"Were you on your way to looking for the warehouse when we saw you or were you headed back?" asked Sarge.
"We were looking for another way around the crater," I answered, "hoping for a new angle."
"There is no warehouse to the south full of food," said Sarge. "Wish there were; I'd go and get something else for these two." He looked at the kids with a smile; they smiled back, kicking their legs.
The girl's leg hit the chair with a soft thump and they both stopped suddenly, still and listening. They were learning not to make unnecessary noise for fear the dogs would hear. Sarge shot Kiley a look but it wasn't angry, just mindful. Then he looked back to me.
"I can offer you a clean pair of socks," said Sarge. He reached over and pulled a section of plastic sheeting aside. There was a shelf of small packages. Sarge pulled one off and handed it to me. My eyes went wide. "Never seen clean socks before?" said Sarge when my eyebrows arched for the ceiling.
"No, I don't believe I ever have. Every sock I have ever seen has been washed and mended until there's very little left to be called a sock."
"Well, there's a new pair for you; never seen a human foot." Sarge smiled a warm and friendly smile. "I'll give you some to take with you."
I was speechless. I just looked at the package of socks, new, unworn, there in my hands - brand new socks.
"You're welcome," said Sarge in response to my unspoken thank you. "It's always good to have something clean to wear."
A smile found its way to my mouth as I felt the cloth in my hand. "I'll wait until I've cleaned," I said. It would be no use putting clean socks on my smelly feet, the dogs would find me if I was standing in ice water.
"Tell me about this place you live. Seventeen families?" asked Sarge.
"You're not plugged into the Old North network, are you," I said. It was a statement, not a question.
"No, we're a bit isolated here; five families, small town." Sarge sat back from the table. Kate was finding Lexi something to wear. She had torn her blouse, which was not hard, as the threads were worn thin.
"The network is a group of communities is all. They will help a gatherer get from place to place. We found that a good scrub and clean clothes will do a lot to hide your scent from the dogs, but there are other things, other scents that will throw the dogs off. There's a lady who makes scents from herbs and flowers and she'll give you a smell that'll fool the dogs. They haven't figured it out yet."
"Well," sighed Sarge, "they're getting smarter."
"So are we," I added, not to get the underside of any such argument.
Sarge smiled. "Do you know we used to call them 'Pooch'? 'Cute pooch you have there' we'd say. Gave the dogs names like Rover and Spike, took them out on leashes and picked up after them."
"Picked up?"
"Yeah, they're droppings." Sarge could see that I was surprised at this. "If the dog made droppings, the human would pick it up, put it in a bag and take it with them. I even saw a thing once called a 'Pooper Scooper' that was something people bought to pick up dog leavings." Sarge looked at me, enjoying my disbelief, but I could tell he was telling the truth.
"They poop where they like now," I said, silently vowing to one day see all dogs back on leashes.
"Man's best friend, they were called. People would say, 'Love me, love my dog.' Some folks were inseparable from their pet dogs."
"How do you know this?" I tried to look casual, but I was aching to know. It sounded too fantastical. Pictures had turned up of men with dogs on leashes, dogs doing tricks for their human masters and small children happy to see pups - only they weren't the pups we know, vicious and often more dangerous than adults, they were cute and fluffy once upon a time.
"My father told me. He remembered from when he was a kid. He said his father gave him a dog. Of course, they had to shoot it when the animals went wild." Sarge got quiet. I guessed he was remembering the dog. It was hard for me to picture liking a dog, owning one.
A sound drew my attention, it was outside. I turned my head, Sarge was aware of my distraction. He looked at the wall as if he could look through it, then at me.
"What is it?" Sarge asked.
"They're looking for us. We've brought danger to your door."
"They'll move on." Sarge said, softly, as if they could hear.
"No, they won't. The trail does not move on. They will stay here. The trail ends here, at your door. We have to head into the hills, over the rocks, through the creeks. We have to lead them where there are no people to be in danger."
At a sound, I jumped up, turning toward Lexi. She stood with Kate, wearing a new blouse that Kate had just given her. The sound was a low, audible growl. One of the children, little Kiley, was growling at Lexi. I could see Lexi was surprised too.
"Kiley!" said Sarge, sharply, so sharply that it made Lexi jump. Kiley stopped and sat looking straight forward, her head down. "Kiley is frightened by the dogs, so the sees dogs as something frightening. My guess is she wants to be a dog so she can be frightening. Kiley, stop that, you're scaring our guests."
Kiley hung her head and became silent. Lexi looked at me.
"Well, time to shut down, we can get a healthy start in the morning." Sarge got up and began checking all the locks on the doors and windows. Kate shooed the children into a back room.
"Where are we going in the morning?" Lexi asked, eyes wide.
"We'll see you safe to your settlement. Maybe we can join this network." Sarge smiled and pointed us to a pair of cots in a corner. Outside dusk was falling. Soon the only dogs would be able to see. And Changelings.
As the door closed, I lifted my head, turning it from side to side. Lexi saw my expression. "What do you smell?"
"Nothing!" I whispered. "We've got to get out of here."
"But I'm so tired, I'm dizzy. Couldn't we just..." Lexi began to slump onto the cot.
"No, Lexi, we have to go. There is something wrong here."
The locks on the windows were keyed and strong, but the wood that held them was rotten and gave at the first push. I pulled Lexi out the window and down onto the ground. She looked around as I did. She saw what was there and so did I. There was no movement, no heat changes, no sound outside what was immediately around us. I looked in the sky and saw a small collection of stars I recognized through the clouds.
"This way," I whispered, grabbing Lexi by the hand. I was running blind in more ways than one, but I knew we had to get away, though I didn't know why. An inborn sense told me to seek high ground.
We ran through the small town into the wood beyond, over rocks and into a stream. I was surprised by the stream. Usually I can hear and smell a stream a mile off. Now I was hearing what Lexi heard, seeing what she saw and smelling nothing at all.
We forded the stream and climbed into the rocks. Behind us we heard movement within the building we had left, even I could hear it.
"They know we're gone," said Lexi.
"And they are not happy about it. What could that mean, I wonder?"
We turned as one, as we often did, working together without communicating what we were doing, running by instinct. I was trying to think of what had changed, what could have brought on the dizziness and tiredness in Lexi, which was unlike her. What could have made me lose my sharper senses.
As if a spray of sunlight had pierced the clouds, I realized that I had the answer in my back pocket - the new socks. Just as we often used herbs to mask our scent, these socks could carry a potion to hinder us. I took the socks from my back pocket. As soon as they touched my hand, I felt weaker. I dropped them with such force they flew from my hand several feet from me.
"Lexi, the blouse, take it off!" Lexi looked at me, trying to discern what could be wrong. Her new blouse? Perhaps the first she ever wore that one could call new. She saw the fear in my eyes and pulled at the buttons, breaking two as she tore the blouse from her body. She wore a thin chemise under it, worn and dirty, but her own. She flung the blouse after the socks and we stood there in the growing moonlight together. I took off my shirt and handed it to Lexi. "Here, it's not clean or new, but it will keep you warm."
Lexi took my shirt and put it on, turning again to a path that was not there, looking for any opening, listening for anything that might signal danger. She was not used to doing the looking and the listening. She was used to me doing that while she enjoyed the scenery and kept track of where we had gone. Now she was the eyes and ears.
A small lizard darted off a rock and under a leaf. I saw it. The motion attracted me. Then the scent of frightened lizard entered my nostrils. I breathed in and felt a rush of scents.
"My senses are returning," I whispered to Lexi.
"I'm not tired either. It must have been the blouse."
I touched Lexi's arm. She stopped, turning toward me. I lowered my voice even more. "They were not helping us."
Behind there were voices, footfalls. Someone was chasing after us, someone on two legs. Lexi and I turned and ran on side by side until I touched her arm and she fell in behind me. I was the eyes and ears now.
A stream of fresh, rushing water invaded my nostrils. It was a few hundred feet ahead of us. I added speed. The speed brightened the path before us, making the path appear to be moving, though it was I who was moving. We ran to the stream and I jumped in, my cloth and rubber shoes doing nothing to keep the chill from my feet. I ran my hands in the water, washing off the potion from the new socks. Lexi threw off the shirt and chemise, scooping water up onto her body. She shook the droplets off and returned to the narrow bank for her chemise, shivering as she dressed again. I also felt cold, in just a tee shirt. But it was no time for comfort, it was a time for survival. No time to dry either, we began to run as soon as we were on the opposite bank.
We ran by instinct, a field of options before us, a dwindling sound of two-legged hunters behind us. My mind went into a gallop. What were these people? The majority of the people left alive were helpers, ready to do whatever they could to make life better, easier. There were few selfers. Most were hermits, living alone in wild areas and fearing settlements. If caught, they would be killed.
Now here was a new faction, selfers that run in a pack. Sarge had said he would take them safely to the settlement, to the seventeen families. Now that seemed a way to lead this new breed of selfers to a fertile hunting ground.
The ridge crested into a meadow and the moon was full now. We crossed the field hesitantly, watching and listening for both dogs and humans, when a new scent found me. It was nothing I had smelled before. A twig broke three hundred feet off to the left. High above, a night hawk circled watching for prey. We were halfway through the field when the sound behind me stopped, then started again straight for us. They had found our trail. We quickened our pace through the meadow and into the forest beyond. The strange scent grew stronger. It was not dog.
Into the dark of the forest again, a familiar shape loomed in front of me, a form standing on two feet. In the dark I could not see clearly, but the heat was unmistakable. I snatched up a stone from the path and held it ready to lob at the oncoming stranger.
"Wait!" he said, quietly but urgently. A dark hand went up as if to fend off advance. "I am not chasing you, I will help you."
The voice seemed to come from a deep pit in the earth, a strange voice to me. Footsteps approached me, two eyes shown in the moonlight and a checkered shirt came into view.
"Who are you?" I challenged fiercely.
"My name is Dram," said the dark stranger. "and I am not a threat. Come this way."
We followed Dram as if we had known him all our lives, into the forest, across a ruin of buildings and a great wall that ran on for nearly a mile. Beyond that we turned sharply and went up onto a rocky precipice that overlooked the meadow and valley beyond. Here Dram sat and in the moonlight, we got a good look at each other.
Dram looked for all intents and purposes like a man but covered in hair like a dog. He was taller than Lexi or me, large and the plaid shirt looked foreign to him.
"Humans," he said, "I must be quite a shock to you."
"What are you?" asked Lexi, leaning forward. She had no fear of him, and oddly enough, I felt none either.
"Who knows? My father and mother were human, looked much like you. When I was born, it must have been a real shocker. I had a hard time until they took me to live further away from the settlements. I grew faster than the other children. I could hear better, smell better, see in the dark better."
"A Changeling. My brother's a Changeling," interjected Lexi.
It was probably true. We might be different links on the evolutionary chain. The radiation killed most who came in contact with it, sooner or later. But some on the outskirts were affected in different ways.
"Not the same thing," noted Dram, "He looks like you. My father told me there was a time when humans hated other humans because they had a different color of skin, sometimes only a little different. Humans hated each other because they believed different spiritual teachings, thought different philosophies or sided with opposing political groups. Humans will hate other humans for being from another village. What do you think they did with me? I am a village of one. Even the dogs don't come near me."
"Where are they now, your family?" asked Lexi.
"My mother had other children after me, normal children. When I was old enough, they went to live in a settlement. It was better that way. This is no life," Dram waved a furry hand across the expanse of rock that was his living room, "when there are settlements and other families somewhere." He looked at Lexi, "You're shivering."
I looked at Lexi. She was shivering. My motion detecting eyes noted her body as quivering back and forth. She had been running through the forest but now she was sitting still in the high mountain air. Dram took his plaid shirt off and handed it to her.
"Here. Take it. It's still warm from me. I don't really like it, I only put it on so as not to frighten you. It itches. And besides, who needs it? I mean, look at me!"
He held his hands out wide, showing the broad expanse of his arms and chest, all covered with a fine, brown fur that rippled softly when he moved. Beneath the soft beard we could see that he was smiling broadly. Lexi broke into a smile and I could feel myself smiling as well, a rare feeling.
In this bright moonlight, I could see that he had many features that made me stand out as I was growing up. His nose and mouth were elongated from his face. It was not quite a muzzle, but it could have been argued that there was something of the 'dog' about him.
It was that way with me. Those who called me 'throwback' for my longer ears, slightly pointed and my eyes that changed color as they changed function, also said there was a bit of dog in me. There were those who said that the dog part should be killed. They usually smiled as they said it; not a friendly smile. Just like at one time there were good dogs and bad dogs, there have been good people and bad people.
"Are you hungry? I have some food here that I think will give you pause. How would you like some bacon and beans?"
Lexi and I looked at him in true surprises.
"And peaches! We have peaches!" said Dram excitedly.
"We have only heard of such things. We have seen peaches in the wild, but they are small and inedible. How...?" I stammered.
"There is a storehouse of tinned food in the ruins below. Someone must have been stockpiling food and never got back to it. I discovered it a year ago and have been eating like a king ever since."
Dram turned his head sharply; I turned mine at the same time. Noises from below pulled out attention.
"What?" asked Lexi in a whisper, not able to hear what Dram and I heard with our Changeling ears.
"They're coming." I whispered.
"They're following your track. They cannot follow a scent." Dram was leaning far over the edge, looking as well as listening, sniffing the breeze for any hint of what was coming. "Man, woman, a child willing and a child unwilling, in protest."
"Yes," I said, "I can sense it." There was a change of scent when one is unwilling, a tinge of protest, a touch of refusal. One of the children was coming along against his - or her - will. "I have to throw them off."
"Wait, I'm coming too." Dram got up and began walking back into the forest.
"Wait here," I said to Lexi as I got up and began to follow Dram into the dark wood.
We scurried down the sharp incline and out onto the flatlands. Over by the buildings, partially broken down into ruins, we heard footfalls.
Dram pointed me off to the right, then went left. I felt my way across the darkened terrain until I came to the long wall. It was too high to leap and too wide to go around, so I went along next to it until I heard something that confirmed what my nose had been telling me. There was breathing on the other side of the wall. Sarge was there, sitting quietly.
I stopped, listening. There was no sound but the shallow breathing of a single person on the other side.
Far and away I could sense Dram was making his way through the wood quietly. I could not smell the woman or the children. Where could they be? Up the hill I heard a stone roll, a scuff and a breath of air as Lexi slipped on the steep slope, she was following after us.
"You can smell me, can't you," said the familiar voice on the other side of the wall. It was Sarge and he knew it was me on this side.
"Hello, Sarge. Where's Kate and the kids?" I spoke loudly enough so that Dram could hear and know where I was and with whom. Lexi probably couldn't hear us yet. I would have to keep him talking.
"Finding a way around this wall. You can't get away, you know. We'll find you. But don't worry, we aren't really interested in hurting you. We need you, just like you need us."
Another gasp told me Lexi had heard him in the distance and had stopped her descent. She was probably over us looking down on the wall. If she held her position, it would be good.
"You mean for socks and blouses, cots and porridge?"
"No, no, you see, we know where the local settlements are, where the families are and where they keep their food." Sarge was selling.
"Like the settlement where we found you. Are there really five families there?"
"There used to be. Dogs got most of them. You have to be quick and smart these days. But we enjoyed their food while it lasted. The porridge was the end of it. Gawd! I hate that stuff!"
I tried to picture Sarge, sitting on the other side of the wall, his rifle leaning against his leg, stinking of too much gun oil. I tried to picture him mentally enjoying the food gathered and carefully secured by others until it ran out and only thin porridge was left.
I made a note of Dram, 50 yards away. I listened for Lexi, then sniffed, catching her sweet scent halfway up the mountain, sitting still. I tried to catch the scent of Kate and the two children, the willing and the unwilling. I didn't have enough of them to pin down. I wondered which was willing and which was unwilling. I wondered what they might be unwilling about.
"So now, what? Off to other settlements, other food stores?"
"You got it, Bix, ol' buddy. See? You're not just a big-nosed, flop-eared throwback, you're smart as well. You're going to take us to your settlement." Sarge was reveling in a victory he had not yet won.
"No, I don't think I will," I said, just as jauntily.
"Oh, if you want to live, you will. Yes, take me there and I just might let you live, and your cute sister too. I just might take her as a second wife. Kate won't mind, as long as she's the first wife." There was something evil coming out in his voice. I felt a chill inside me.
"Kate won't like sharing you with anyone, I have a feeling."
"Details, but we have the cart before the horse, here. First we find the settlement. If you don't take us there, I'm sure your sister will. Leslie or something wasn't it?"
"Yeah, Leslie. She won't tell you either," I was stalling. There had to be a way to break this stalemate and to our favor, but how?
"Yes, I think she'll take us. She has too much to lose."
Sarge's voice had changed. He had moved. He was doing something else. There was a faint dragging sound - something solid, heavy. I needed more.
"Yeah, like what?" I stood up, trying to get the scent better, lifting my nose toward the top of the wall. Another scent came into my sphere, one I remembered. It was Kate; she was close.
"Like doesn't she look cute in that nice new blouse? Oh, she loved that, didn't she. She would probably like some more new clothes," there was a heavy pause, "and she would probably like continuing to look beautiful while wearing them."
Ah, there it was, the threat. He would maim her if she didn't lead him to the settlement; he would take her beauty away, appeal to her vanity. It might work if she didn't love her family so much. Lexi was beautiful and vanity came with the package, but she would die for her family, slowly and painfully if necessary. Sarge had misjudged her. I was my job to see that he never discovered that.
The dragging stopped. Sarge's breathing was more labored, though he tried to cover it. He did not know the length of my abilities.
"You like the socks?" he asked, almost gasping.
Aha! That was it, he thought I still had the socks and that Lexi still wore the blouse.
"Yeah, the socks are great. First time my feet have been warm in a long time. But they are so thick that my shoes are tight."
"Never satisfied! But when we get you home, you'll be right as rain. Do you know that used to be a standard saying? Everybody said it! 'Right as rain!' Back before rain could kill you, it used to be a good thing. Bet you didn't know that, did you?"
"So, what's your plan, Sarge, get us back to the settlement and convince them to give you all their food? Or were you planning on killing all 17 families?"
"Well, all the food is better than part of the food. However I get it is immaterial. Thing is, I don't care about your family, I care about my family. Like I said, take me there, maybe you and sis can be part of my family."
"I won't lead you there." I was standing, trying to discern the different scents, the sounds, looking about for heat signatures. There had to be a way to tip these scales before they were tipped on me.
"Then you are of no further use to me," Sarge said with unmasked anger. "I'll just kill you and find the settlement myself. Your girl will take me there. Kate will sniff her out eventually."
So that's where Kate is, trying to find Lexi, probably using little Kiley as a hound. If she growled, she might have some dog in her, she might be a little changeling herself.
A shuffling on the other side of the wall and a deep, sudden grunt off to one side made me aware. From out of nowhere Kate came at me with her full body. She flew at me, knocking me to the ground. She smelled of herself only faintly. Whatever was on the socks they had given me, she had it all over her.
"I got him!" she cried. Sitting up on top of me. "Sarge, I got him!"
The ground beneath me shook as footfalls got closer and closer, on the other side of the wall, a grunt and a shift in the air told me that Sarge was using whatever he had dragged to the wall to get him over it.
Kate's body was pulled from me. Dram swept her up and threw her against the wall just as Sarge came crashing down.
"Pow!" Dram knocked Sarge against the wall. His rifle clattered to his feet. Kate scrambled up and came at me again, snarling. She had knocked the air from my lungs. As I was catching my breath, I saw Sarge in the shadow of the wall; he was raising his rifle aimed at Dram.
"Bang!" the gun went off. Dram dropped on the ground and a cry came from the woods beyond. Dram leaped on Sarge knocking him back into the wall. A spatter of blood marked the stone wall and Sarge fell on the ground. His head hung at an odd angle.
Kate cried out and ran into the dark woods where she stopped and began to sob. The smell of Kiley's blood was now unmistakable. The bullet Sarge fired wildly struck her. There was the sound of scuffling and Kate came out of the woods with a large knife and a fierce cry. She ran from the woods straight at Dram and sunk the knife into his side. He cried out and swatted her, sending her tumbling into the rocks. She didn't move. I turned her over and saw that as she rolled over the rough ground, she had broken her neck.
I got up and went to Dram. "It's not bad," he said, "but it stings."
"Hold this against it," I said, pulling a bit of cloth from the tail of my tee-shirt and handing it to Dram.
"Where's Lexi?" asked Dram, more concerned about here than his wound.
"Over here," came her voice. She was in the wood, holding Kiley, dead. Smith sat to one side, looking at Kiley, limp in Lexi's arms. He was shivering.
"Sorry about your sister and your folks," said Lexi.
"Those aren't my folks," said Smith, "they just found me and figured that a boy would look good as part of their family. I wanted to get away from them." Here was our unwilling child. He was not a selfer.
"You had better come with us," said Lexi, looking at me for confirmation rather than permission. I nodded consent. "And you had better come with us too," she said to Dram.
"Oh, I don't know..." replied Dram, suddenly weakened by the thought of living among people.
"You have to come," she said, pointedly. I looked at her, trying to find words to sum up the challenges, but she looked back at me, imploring, "No, he has to come. I want him to come."
"Come on, Dram, there's no use trying to talk to her when she's like this. You'll have to come too."
Lexi took his hand and they walked toward the woods together as sweethearts. I reached a hand to Smith, who took it and began to walk beside me.
"Wait'll they get a load of me!" said Dram over his shoulder.
I smiled, "They'll just have to get used to you."
Jennifer says:
Very creative story. Be careful not to get too heavy handed with explanations. Consider hinting at Dram's presence throughout the story and allowing him to come to their rescue against Sarge and his family before Bix and Lexi know who/what he is. That way you'd have the tension of two possible attackers throughout the story and then the relief that Dram was actually on their side. That would also give a plausible reason for Bix and Lexi to trust him, rather than relying on their intuition. A good story.
Plot - 23
Characters - 23
Mechanics - 21
Enjoyment - 23
TOTAL - 90
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