Harley:

I struggle with the seatbelt for a moment before it releases and I can scramble from behind the steering wheel before racing into the barn slamming the door behind me. It hits me then and I cover my mouth with both hands as I begin screaming and sobbing in anguish. Slowly I collapse against the inside of the door, my body in a cramped uncomfortable position. I wrap both arms around my legs pulling my knees up against my chest as I bury my face against my legs and scream.

"Nonononono!" My throat hurts and I gasp for breath but I am unable to stop myself, on and on I scream. Part of me recognises I am hysterical and I am wasting time I should be using to pack my belongings and then get the hell away from here but I can't pull myself together. Finally the inevitable happens and I vomit bringing back the wallaby I had eaten in cat form. I retch until there is nothing left in my stomach and I am left gasping for breath.

I crawl away from the mess I have made and into the square of hay bales that Drew had used to make a 'house' for me. There is barely enough room to stand upright and the floor space is only the size of two inflatable double mattresses but inside the tarp-covered hay it is warmer. I crawl onto our bed and pull his side of the bedcovers against my face as I sob brokenly. I can still hear the echoes of the rifle shots, still hear the bullets ricocheting off trees near me. I cry until my throat feels raw and my eyes feel gritty, until there is nothing left inside me and I feel myself start to drift off to sleep. And I remember ...

I notice that the winter sun is shinning and there's no breeze today as I walk outside the barn and head for the spot where I can look out at the neighbouring pastures. There is the glitter of frost on the open fields and I push my hands deeper into the pockets of my big hooded jacket thankful for it's warmth. I turn my head and listen as Drew walks up the slope towards me, I can hear his boots crunching on the rocky ground and wonder how he ever managed to hunt well enough to feed me while I was ill. I smile as I place a hand on the small mound that is my growing kitt. There is no bleeding today and I have felt him move strongly several times this morning. Drew tells me I am having a boy and I don't care if it is a boy or a girl, I only want a healthy baby after all the trouble I have been having.

There are soft noises directly behind me and then Drew is slipping his arms around me and resting his chin on top of my shoulder, his breath brushing against my ear as he breathes. I lean my head against his soaking up the easy affection and bodily contact greedily. Ever since I had relented in my resentment of his spending time with Hank and Mutto Drew had become very devoted to me only leaving as was necessary to provide the copious amounts of fresh meat I needed.

I feel Drew's hands move down to cup the slight swell of my stomach, and once again worry over the smallness of my baby bump fills me. According to Drew I have about eleven or twelve weeks to go before the baby is due. And yet in the time since I came close to losing my baby my stomach has made very little noticeable growth. I know my breasts have become larger and more sensitive but still my stomach is small with only a few faint pink tracings showing where the skin is stretching.

"How is my beautiful wife feeling this morning?" Drew asks softly.

"Pretty good," I answer quietly. "I slept well once I did fall asleep." I don't mention it was his absence while he was away hunting that worried me. We have been over that several times and all it does is cause arguments between us and I don't want that. I don't want anything that will wreck this peaceful morning.

"How does scrambled eggs sound for breakfast?" Drew asks as he moves away from me and I am left feeling cold as the peace between us becomes strained.

"You got eggs?" I ask surprised.

"Eggs, milk, bread and fruit juice," Drew says happy as I turn towards him with a smile.

"Oh yes please," I say smiling happily as I grab one of his hands to hold it. My pleasure seems to be infectious and Drew grins broadly as he leads me back towards the barn.

"How about mid morning we go for a drive? We can go bush and I'll catch a roo or a couple of wallabies for lunch," He offers as he directs me to a fallen tree where we generally sit.

"Just you and I?" I ask hopefully.

"Yes just the two of us," Drew says loosing a little bit of his brightness as he turns his back on me and begins making breakfast. The scrambled eggs are light and fluffy, and there are even small packages of salt from a takeaway store to sprinkle on them. I eat hungrily, savouring the rich taste of the eggs and the crunch of the bread Drew toasts over the fire. We eat until all of the eggs and bread are consumed and I wash my food down with the small bottle of fruit and veggie juice and lots of water.

"Leave the cleaning up," Drew scolds as he stretches out on his back in the sun. "I can do that later, after we have a snooze."

"You cooked, I'll clean up and then curl up in our bed for a sleep." I tell him as I give a lazy wave of my hand at him. I listen to him begin to snore as I finish washing up the last of the cutlery and place it on the towel to dry beside the plates and frypan. Inside the barn is still cool and I curl up on the inflatable mattress burying myself under all of the covers. The food and small walk have combined to make me sleepy and I am soon sound asleep once again.

Even as I sleep I am aware of the passing of days in my dream and I toss and turn as I whimper in distress, my mind knowing the horror to come and reluctant to remember it. Quick snatches of memories of hunting with Drew flit through my mind, trees blurring past as we run. The excitement of the chase, the hot rich taste of fresh blood on my tongue as I eat from a freshly killed feral pig. These memories pass too quickly but not as quick as the stress and upset when Drew spends time with Hank and Mutto. More and more it seems he is being drawn to them and their worrying ways.

I know I am still dreaming, still remembering as I wake to the cold winter morning and the sharp bite of frost in the air. I glance at Drew asleep behind me in the bed before I climb from beneath the covers, grab my jacket and hurry outside to empty my bladder. I am tired this morning, the demands of the advancing pregnancy and the light bleeding over the last few days. I wrinkle my nose at the smell of urine but I am relieved when there is no odour of blood. I place a hand on the slight swell of my stomach and wonder what this frequent bleeding could mean and how it will affect my growing kitt.

I am standing in the first rays of the rising sun catching the hints of warmth as I hear movement behind me. I turn my head to look and curl my top lip as I see Hank and Mutto trotting up the track towards me in dingo form. I head back to the barn at a brisk walk careful not to break into a run, I shut the door leaving them outside as I slip through slightly ahead of Hank. I hear his annoyed snarl and smile to myself as I hear him scratching at the door uselessly.

"Drew," I say firmly outside the hay bales. "Your friends are here,"

"I'm getting up," Drew calls back and I turn to the bottles of drinking water resting against the side of the hay. The water is cold and I drink half a bottle to ease the hollow feeling of hunger that has become my constant companion over the last few weeks.

The barn door opens as Drew crouches to come out of our sleeping space and into the openness of the barn. Hank walks into the barn naked but Mutto is pulling a pair of shorts on as he follows not far behind his brother. Time speeds up dizzily and it feels like I am outside myself watching on as my objections to going for an early morning hunt for breakfast are swept aside. I can feel my reluctance as we all get into the car and I choose to sit in the back as far away from Mutto as I can get rather than have Hank at my back.

The roadside blurs past in an exaggerated rush as Drew drives to where they plan to hunt. Things slow to a normal pace for a few seconds as I spot a mob of kangaroos out my window and I turn my head to watch them as the car speeds by. The road has deteriorated from bitumen to gravel, and then to a narrow unused track. Finally Drew stops the car and I look around at the tall trees and bushes that surround us.

"Shall we hunt?" Hank asks as he climbs out of the front seat and glances at me with a smirk. He thinks he won when I climbed into the back seat and he got the front passenger seat and I have no intention of telling him I was simply not having him at my back. While Drew and the dingos get out of the car and change I strip off in the back seat and change to my cat form. I slip through Mutto's open door and trot around the front of the car smoothly.

As I dream I know what is to come but I can't do anything to change the course of events as Mutto, then Hank and lastly Drew lead the way off to hunt. I fall into step with Drew, my front shoulders level with his back quarters as we travel. I call softly to him as we pass three kangaroos but he merely glances over his shoulder at me before returning his attention to the track ahead. I begin to tire before the dingos reach a fence and I start to drop back behind everyone. I slink under the bottom wire and pause just inside the paddock as I look around, head, ears and tail raised as I look for the familiar forms of sheep. There are none to be seen and I follow the other three in the few scattered trees along the fence line.

Here and there are single wallabies and they sit up on their back legs to watch as we pass by. I slow and come to a stop as we reach a natural watercourse at the bottom of a low hill. I lap at the water and quench my thirst before raising my head, I spot where Hank, Mutto and Drew are stalking towards a herd of cattle. Most appear to be weaners with only an odd larger beast or two. I turn my ears back at the thought of a feed of beef, delightful yes, but not something that should be indulged in with so many wallabies and kangaroos around. I hesitate a moment then turn my attention to where a small wallaby sits watching me. I lower my head and lap at the water before making my way along the trickling stream.

The wallaby sits watching me and I leap across the water towards it. My burst of speed gets me close before the wallaby takes flight, I match the zigzag flight path and within moments my claws are sinking into the fleshy hind legs and I am pulling it close for a hard crunching bite to the neck to kill it. I stand over it a few moments looking towards where the others are still making their way up the slope of the hill towards the cattle. I am about to call to Drew but decide against it and begin tearing into the soft flesh of the dead wallaby and eating it in chunks. I raise my head as an eerie silence seems to descend, my ears flick back and forth nervously as the feeling something is wrong settles over me.

The rapid fire of gunshots shatters the calm quietness of the still morning. I snort in alarm as I jump nervously and look up the hill where the sound is coming from. The cattle are milling and lowing nervously and I spot first one dingo, then two dashing down the hill at top speed with Drew close behind. More shots ring out and I see Drew leap into the air, his head turning back as if he is biting at his side. I see him stumble as he falls, he rights himself as another shot rings out and he falls into the long dry grass motionlessly.

In my head I can hear myself screaming his name over and over again as I turn and race along the watercourse. I am not surprised when I hear the whine of bullets in the trees over my head and the buzz of ricochets. I stick close to the uneven ground, using the cover of what bushes there are. Fear sends adrenaline coursing through my body as I race for where we left the vehicle. I hear a yelp somewhere behind me but don't look back as I demand sped from my tired muscles. The bottom wire of the fence tugs at my fur as I bolt under neath it and head for the thicker cover of the trees ahead.

The track is easy to follow and I race towards where we left the vehicle. In my mind a picture flashes of where Drew always leaves the keys, the image is quickly followed by the memory of Drew leaping as he is shot. My breath leaves me in sobs as I run and then I am finally at the car. I stop for a few moments trying to catch my breath, my heart is pounding and my lungs burning. I gather myself enough to force a change back to my human form. Cold air bites at my over heated body and I reach for my track pants, pulling them on hurriedly. I don't bother with my shirt opting for my jacket instead before reaching beneath the drivers seat to find the keys and slipping behind the steering wheel.

The pounding of feet draws my attention and I glance along the slight track where I had run from. An orange tan dingo is racing towards me and I bare my teeth in a savage snarl as I turn the key and the engine comes to life. I don't take my eyes off him, it's Hank and I feel sure he is to blame for the ambush that has claimed Drew's life leaving me alone and vulnerable. I put the car into reverse and push the accelerator down hard, the car lurches and then begins speeding backwards. I am surprised at the way I find driving easy, I swing the wheel turning sharply and then I am putting the car into first.

I take a final glance towards Hank, he is racing towards me with his ears back and eyes gleaming. I see the small puff of dust rise just in front of him, see him swerve and then I turn my attention to where I am driving as the car shots forward. I hear the sharp ping of a bullet hitting metal and my heart is in my throat as I lean forward over the wheel and change up a gear ...

I come awake with a start and sit up hurriedly as I glance around. The memory of where I am and what happened comes back with a rush, I find my heart is racing and my breath comes fast. I hurry to crawl out of my sleeping place and begin grabbing my belongings and stuffing them into both Drew's and my bags. I take the time to dress myself properly before going through Drew's belongings and looking for money or anything valuable. Six dollars in small change, a watch and two photographs of him is all I find. I hesitate a moment as I look at the old barn, all around it is evidence we were here. I grab my belongings and head out to the car, toss the bags in the back seat and reach for the cigarette lighter and packet of smokes Hank had left in the ashtray.

The bales of hay are dry and I bite my bottom lips as I glance around the inside of the shed. I flick the lighter to life and hold the flame to the end of a smoke, with it alight I place it on a hay bale and step back. I am not disappointed as the dry stalks quickly catch fire and begin burning. I hurry from the barn and climb in the car, I glance in the rear view mirror as I drive away. Already flames can be seen licking the side of the barn.