It’s not a good idea to stop. I know it’s not a good idea to stop. I can still make it to the outpost, it’s only half a dozen miles away. They have walls tall enough to keep stuff out and places to refill supplies. I need to get there before nightfall.
But the sun is slipping fast over the horizon. Maybe that makes me a coward, or dumb, maybe both, but the little metal building is there. It would be a perfect place to shelter for the night.
I’m half a step inside when dirty hands grab the front of my shirt and yank me over the threshold. The man is tall with black teeth, his mouth is moving, and he is smiling. I thrash and kick, but he shakes me like a rag doll, and I lose my footing.
The man’s brow wrinkles then he presses up close and mouths something slow and deliberate. I don’t know what he is saying, and he slaps the side of my face. I yelp and try to start thrashing again. The man throws his head back like a coyote.
He tosses me to the ground like nothing and I land hard on my side. Sand stings my eyes and coats my lips and nose. The entire floor is covered in it. I push myself up and search the room. Looking for something. There has to be something that can help.
The walls are grimy. Chairs and tables are scattered, rotten and busted. My gaze snags on the creature curled in the corner underneath a metal desk. The metal teeth of a rusted beartrap dig deep into the flesh of its dog-like foot. Its eyes are closed, mouth agape. Maybe it’s dead. Maybe that’s how I’ll look when I die.
My bag is ripped from my arms, tearing my attention back to the man. He dumps the contents out onto the sandy floor. It’s embarrassing to see everything I own laid out He pushes everything I own around with his foot, ripping my books, and grinding sand into my socks. Then he stomps on my glass jar of colorful buttons.
I push to my feet with no real plan, but the man pushes hard on my shoulders, and I fall back, landing close to the creature. It cracks one large eye open and blinks. I’m jerked back to my feet, the man is laughing and talking close to my face. His breath is rancid. Rotting from the inside out.
He hits me again, a balled fist in the stomach this time. I vomit water and canned soup onto his shoes. He grabs my hair and forces my head up so I can see the dirty knife waving in my face. He presses the flat side against my cheek, it’s warm like body heat.
I jerk back but his grip is strong. We stumble together, my feet tangled with his and we go down hard. I flail in the sand, it’s hard to find my footing. The man is faster. He pins me to the uneven ground and hits me hard in the nose. Something cracks and blood begins to pour.
My hands are pinned under his knees, I twist and jerk, trying to pry them free to block the next blow. His fist raises for another hit, and I squeeze my eyes closed. Something warm and wet splatters against the side of my face. I fist the fluid off my face with my freed hands and blink my eyes open. Where there were once cruel eyes, and a rotting mouth is now a mess of bone and stringy tendons.
We landed too close. Biting range.
The creature lets the man fall to the side and I scramble to get away from it. But the creature does not move to attack.
I turn away.
My hands shake and my eyes water as I begin gathering my things and putting them back in my saddle bag. Most of it is fine but my buttons are lost in the sand.
I don’t know how to dress a broken nose. So, I rip a gauze in half and shove each half up my bleeding nostrils then duct tape a bandage over the bridge.
The creature is sitting on top of the metal desk when I turn to it again. It’s got its bony back to me and its injured foot propped up tracing a claw between the wounds. It would be very easy to just leave.
It doesn’t look up when I move closer.
These things look as though someone tried to draw a person using only the memory of a dream. They’ve got two arms, two legs, a head, and two eyes, but that’s where the similarities end. They’re taller than us and thin, so thin their bones push against their skin. But they’re strong and they’re fast and they’re mean.
I don’t know if they were always here or if The War made them, I don’t know if they want something or if they’re just trying to survive like the rest of us. What I do know is this one helped me and that’s more than I can say for most people these days.
When I am close enough to smell it (sour sweat, metal, blood, desert air) the creature looks over its shoulder and snarls. Its eyes drop to my bag, and it stands. Stretches up and up to its full height. I hold my hands up and lower the bag down. It tracks my movements; head tilted a little.
I point to its leg with slow broadcasted movements, then angle my pointer fingers towards each other and twist.
You’re hurt.
The creature pushes its injured leg behind itself and continues to study me.
I point to my bandaged nose and repeat the sign. Hurt.
Its eyes follow my movements, taking in my injury with calculating eyes.
I bring my flat palm up to chest level and put my other hand on top, balled up with only my thumb sticking out, then push my hands in its direction.
Let me help you.
That’s met with more staring, but I crouch down anyway and grab iodine and bandages from my bag. I hold them up slowly for the creature to inspect. When it doesn’t move, I round the desk slowly with my medical supplies clutched to my chest. It eyes me warily and jerks away when I sit in front of it on the heavy metal desk. Its thin lips peel away from its teeth again, and I imagine it’s growling, but I set my supplies down anyway.
You’re hurt, I sign again, let me help you.
I point to the wound, mime pulling the trap open, then hold up the last of my iodine and gauze. The creature looks at me, down at the trap around its foot, then back to me. Its eyes narrow before slowly sitting back down and pushing the heavy trap towards me. I smile in a way I hope is reassuring before I study the trap in front of me.
Before I begin trying to pry the thing open and causing more pain and damage, I lift it a little to feel under the bottom. The small, rusted lever groans as I pull it. When the trap springs open the creature is up and on the other side of the room faster than I can track. Its mouth drops back open, and the air around vibrates from the intensity of its scream.
I don’t move except to lift the medical supplies back up, wagging them in its direction. It screams a little more before squatting down to inspect the free bleeding injury.
Slowly, with an air of violence, the creature straightens and limps back over to me. It hesitates at the desk before sinking back down. The creatures don’t have any outward genitalia. But I’m still reminded of how naked they are when it sits close and props its injured foot over my leg. The thought makes a laugh bubble from my chest. Whatever it sounds like escaping my throat startles the creature a little.
I rub my fist over my chest, sorry, but the absurdity of this situation still makes me smile.
The creature snaps its teeth at me when the disinfectant burns and bubbles but doesn’t pull away. After I finish wrapping the gauze around the creature’s foot it pulls back but doesn’t stand to leave. We’re looking at each other again like we’re both too awkward to know what to do next.
I point at it and then rub my fist over my stomach. Are you hungry?
It doesn’t respond but I wave it over anyway as I cross over to my bag and sit cross-legged on the floor. I dig down to the bottom where I have a couple of cans of peaches stashed away. I’m opening mine when the creature joins me, its long legs folding up awkwardly. I smile at it and hand it the open can. It stares down then back at me.
I open the other can and take a drink of the liquid, the creature watches and then mimics the action. I smile encouragingly. We eat with our hands in silence, but I can feel the creature watching me. When we finish, I lay down, using my bag as a pillow. It copies me again, stretching out about a foot away, using its thin arm as a pillow.
I know this comfort won’t last, good things never do anymore. I’m out of medical supplies and that was the last of my food. But right now, I have a roof over my head and maybe a new friend. I’m sure as hell going to enjoy it while I can.
I laugh out loud again and for a second, before my eyes slip closed, the creature smiles.
