October 18th

It's late and really time for me to find the land of zzz's, but tonight was a doozy and I want to get it all down.

Michael and I were out back. I was rewarding myself with a few laps in the newly cleaned pool (whoo, finally free of slime!) and Michael was piling up wood in the fire pit. It was almost dinner time. Michael was getting ready to roast the mean mother he'd caught earlier that day.

Before he cut it up, I saw what it looked like, and I really wish I hadn't been so curious. At first, I saw a large beak (naturally thinking he'd killed a bird, extinct or not). Then, when I saw the rest, I saw that it wasn't any kind of bird indigenous to these parts, or even this planet. Its body was almost like a dog's body, except that the tail wasn't a tail; it was a spike that looked venomous.

Michael's shin's displayed two semi-deep slashes. Other than that, he was whistling as he gutted the animal here at home.

Hmm.

Home.

Anyway, if he hadn't needed to go around the front of the property for more wood, he never would have seen them. Later, Michael gave us a description of what happened, but it was loaded with holes. With my keen writer's mind, I think I can fill in the gaps.

While he stacked the wood, Michael probably realized, shoot, I need a lot more kindling for that fat hog, at least another tree's worth. Ax in hand, he went to the front yard, where the trees were dry and came apart easily. The perfect tree was a hundred yards from the house, along with the wheelbarrow he had forgotten. Oh well, get it when I'm through, he thought.

Swing! Chop! Swing! Chop! Swing---

But there he must've stopped. Between chops, he was certain he had heard something. Hearing anything Outside was worth noting since there were no more animals to speak of. Either they had all been hunted into extinction, or they had been scared off by the other 'animals' in the area. As for the beasts, they were smart in the way that they only made noise when they were a few feet from their prey.

A quick 360 and Michael saw that he was still alone. There were no stalkers waiting to pounce. Satisfied, he swung again---and again, he stopped. Now that he knew to listen, he heard it more clearly. It was coming from the gate. From where Michael was, he couldn't see what was there, especially with the sunlight reflecting off of the metal bars.

"Help!" Faint, but there.

He dropped his ax and ran to the gate. The closer he got, the more he could make out the two shapes screaming for aid. One was tall, and the other was slight, a child's height. Ten feet from the gate, he saw a woman with a young girl at her side.

"Let us in sir, please." The woman said.

Her hair was stringy to match her dirty face. In another world, she might have been pretty, but here in this one, she looked haggard. Her young companion was dirty as well, but the perks of greater youth had left her looking less used up than the woman.

Michael wanted to help them over the gate, but he knew better. They could be bait for a bigger trap, one with a greedy group of men behind it. So he stood there and didn't answer.

"Sir?" The woman understood his hesitation. "We're not dangerous. It's just me and my daughter." Her thin arm drew the girl to her side.

Without a word, Michael walked away and out of sight.

"What? No! Come back!" But he didn't come back. One minute. Two minutes. "God damnit!"

Another minute. Both girls turned from the gate until they heard leaves crunching in their direction. They turned back around to see Michael there, setting a large piece of metal on the ground.

"Had to get a ladder." He said.

What he didn't say was that he had also gotten his shotgun from the shed. It was tucked into the back of his pants.

"I'm gonna pass the ladder to you underneath the gate."

Using one foot, Michael slid the ladder towards the women underneath the bars of the gate. The older woman took it and set it against the gate.

"Honey, you go first."

Even though her mother told her to go, the girl stood where she was with no intention of moving. She seemed catatonic.

"Climb the ladder, sweetie. I'll be right behind you."

Nope, she still wasn't going. She shook her head no.

Her mother sighed and gave Michael a look that said, kids never listen. She cupped one hand on the girl's ear to whisper into it. Michael couldn't hear much, but he caught "You better." He didn't know why, but when he heard that, he hand flew to the back of his waistband and settled on the shotgun. Until both women cleared the fence, he wouldn't relax.

After a few minutes and not a helping hand from Michael, they were over the gate. Both women stayed at the gate, probably knowing why one hand was behind Michael's back.

"Knock the ladder over, and pull it under the gate." He said.

The woman did as he said. Every few seconds, she peeked over her shoulder at him. Her daughter was a wax statue, not even staring his way. Once the ladder was back inside the perimeter, Michael gestured towards the house.

"Ladies first."

They looked apprehensive at his invitation. Though he wasn't about to lead them with a gun to their backs, he wasn't going to turn his back either. When it became clear that they were to go first or not at all, the two women trekked up the hill to the house. Michael followed a few feet behind.

His hand never left his gun.