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This Forsaken World

By Mantrid Brizon

Episode Seven: (Mis)placement

Monica and Grey remain on deck for several hours, well into the afternoon. However, they soon grow tired from their ordeal. Even before the incident with Becker, which was a severe emotional drain in and of itself, they'd run nearly two miles in full sprint to escape the slavers they'd encountered, all the while having a running gun battle. Returning to the main deck with several of the children, a now much more receptive Sue is eager to assist her adult saviors, as are the others. Picking Sue and another girl, a somewhat younger child named Sally, they enlist their help.

Entrusting the young girls with a special mission, Monica finds a box to act as a stool, allowing the girls to see over the wheel. The mission is simple: take turns keeping the boat in the middle of the river and send one of them to collect Monica and Grey when it grows dark in several hours. The couple fully intend to anchor the boat with help from the manual that Grey has been reading, only to finish the journey the next day. Even with the children, they certainly have the supplies for it. With the girls at their post and appearing to take their job quite seriously, Monica and Grey head below deck, entering the cabin marked with the star and lying down together on the twin-sized bed.

“What do you wanna play?" A little boy asks another, just outside.

“Wanna play fight?" The second boy asks.

“Okay! I'll be Grey and you can be Becker!" The first chirps.

“You can't be Grey! You have fur!" The second retorts.

“So do you!"

“But mine's light, like his skin! You're dark, like mean ol' Becker!"

“Nuh-uh!" The first replies defensively, as if worried his dark fur makes him akin to the dead slaver.

“Yuh-huh!"

Listening to the boys bickering back and forth, Monica can't help but grin. Lying on her side with her lover in her arms, she runs the back of her furry fingers against the bare flesh of his cheek, pressing her snout against his temple and giving him a soft kiss.

“Looks like someone's popular."

“I don't see why."

“You helped rescue them, and you're exotic; humans are rare."

“I wish I wasn't a human..."

Monica's stunned by his remark. She pulls her head back, looking him over with a furled brow. With his head tilted down, his eyes focus on his plantigrade feet.

“I'd rather by Voeldahn, like you. At least then I'd be half-way normal."

“You say that like being a human is some kind of curse."

“Sometimes I feel like it is, in its own way. Looked at with mistrust or disgust, perpetually ridiculed, constantly lusted after by those weird human fetishists."

“Well... I love you just the way you are!" She says, before giving him another kiss.

“See?" He grins.

“Shut up." She smirks.

The couple look to each other in silence, their caressing hands and longing gazes a loving pantomime. The two boys outside decide on a different game altogether, distracted by one of the little girls who's found pencils and paper to draw on.

“Okay, so I walked into that one... But you're a great guy, babe; you're my furless, and I wouldn't change a thing about you! You shouldn't want to change either."

“Thanks, Precious. It means a lot to hear you say that." He murmurs, his arms pulling a little tighter around her body.

“Mmm... Anything for you." She coos.

Leaning in, they share a kiss. One becomes two, and two becomes a dozen, and though their passion builds, it strikes a glass ceiling. The children's faint laughter keeps them from becoming too distracted. Their lips part as they gaze into each other's eyes, their arms and legs entwining them together. Monica rests her forehead against his, his straight and pointy human nose running parallel to her canine snout; the couple are content to cuddle.

“Maybe you weren't supposed to kill Becker, but no matter what happens because of this, I'll stand by you. I love you, furless."

“I love you too, Precious." Grey's arms tighten.

Comforted by their shared embrace, exhausted by their long run for safety, and the emotional drain of disposing of Becker's evil, Monica and Grey soon fall asleep. A sudden force throws the couple from their bed. Grey lands on the floor, Monica falling atop him. They fully expected to be awoken by a small child poking or shaking them, but this is something else entirely. Rising from the floor, they see a faint pinkish-orange sky. Did they sleep until dusk? Looking at his old, mechanical wristwatch, Grey is stunned to find the hands showing 7:31. That's far too early to be this dark. What's going on? A sudden, frantic knocking draws their attention.

“Mister! Lady! Come quick!" A little boy shouts, having forgotten their names in his panic.

Monica scrambles to her feet, racing for the door. The whimper in the boy's voice has unlocked a maternal concern buried deep within her. By the time Grey has sat up on the floor, Monica pulls the cabin door open. The little Voeldahn boy looks up to her, his amber eyes overflowing.

“Mike is hurt, and the boat's stuck!" He cries.

“Are you okay?!" She asks, taking a knee and resting her hands upon his shoulders.

“Uh-huh." He nods, his little tail swaying. “But Mike fell."

“Take me to Mike."

“Okay."

“Babe?" She looks back at Grey.

“Yeah?" He stands to his feet, brushing himself off.

“Go see what happened."

“Right!"

Leaving the room with the little boy holding her hand, Monica turns a corner to find the other Voeldahn boy beside the steps. He clutches a knee and softly cries, a hand stained with small quantities of blood. Having fallen from the steps, he'd cut or scraped himself upon impacting the old, wooden floor. Grey rushes up the stairs, a little smile crossing his lips as he overhears the motherly Monica.

“There, there, baby. It's going to be alright." She assures the boy as she cleans his wound with a clean rag and bottled water.

Reaching the main deck, Grey pauses to glance toward the sky. They'd been traveling southward consistently, and to his shock the sun is not setting to his right but rising on his left. He turns toward Sally and Sue, who stand by the wheel with looks of shame. Their tails hang limp, their snouts point downward, and their eyes are turned up and focused on him.

“What happened?" Grey asks, with a gentle but curious voice.

“We're sorry!" Sally exclaims.

“We were doing so good, we kept driving!" Sue adds.

Grey approaches them slowly, looking toward the gauges near the wheel. Keeping Sue's suffering in mind, he does his best to hide any anger over the children's failure to follow instructions, though it frustrates him.

“Just tell me what happened." He speaks in a soft voice.

“It got late, but we weren't sleepy." Sally begins.

“We wanted to let you sleep; we felt bad waking you up so soon." Sue interjects.

“And we were doing good! We used a light on the front of the boat to see and kept going." Sally continues.

“All night?!" Grey chuckles.

“Uh-huh! We got far!" Sue grins proudly.

“So, what happened?" He asks.

“We saw two rivers, and didn't know what one to take." Sally answers.

“I wanted to go right, but she wanted to go left." Sue points at her co-pilot.

“Nuh-uh! I wanted to stop!" Sally retorts.

“We didn't know how to stop!" Sue snaps back.

“That's why left was better, 'cause it was wider!"

“Girls, girls!" Grey catches their attention.

“Yeah?"

“... Why didn't you wake us up to ask us what to do?"

The girls appear dumbfounded. Sue looks down and shrugs her shoulders, while Stephanie turns her eyes toward the sky, cocking her head and raising a brow as if deep in thought. With a little grin, Grey steps up to them, patting the girl's heads and messing up their hair.

“Well, at least we got to sleep."

“Yeah." Sue yawns.

Checking the gauges, there's less than a quarter tank of biodiesel left. Walking along the deck, he leans over the railing, seeing the muck of a sandbank against the hull. As they'd said, they approached a fork in the river, crashing into the landmass in the center. A large rock has poked a sizeable hole into the craft, making it nothing more than a small, tilted house on the edge of the landmass. Sighing in frustration, he runs his fingers through his long, light-brown hair.

“Well... You'd better get below deck and find a bed. You're going to need your rest."

“'Kay!" The girls chirp.

Monica pops out from the lower deck, swiftly passed by the two girls.

“What happened?"

“Our little captains thought it would be nice to let us sleep; they stayed up all night and drove the boat, until they saw a fork in the river, became confused and crashed." Grey explains, approaching her.

“Well... No wonder I feel so rested!" Monica smirks.

“Nothing ever gets you down, does it?" He slips an arm around her waist.

“I'm a glass half-full kind of girl." She coos.

“Apparently."

Sharing a long and loving kiss, the pair hold each other for some time. The sun's warm rays strike his skin and her fur, while a gentle breeze blows over them.

“I should probably see if any of these old maps show this river. Maybe I can guesstimate how far we've gone." He begins.

“And I guess I'll make sure the children are taking a nap; looks like we'll be walking soon."

“Alright, mom." He teases her.

“Keep that up and I'll punish you." She winks.

“Promises, promises."

“Get to work, furless." She laughs.

While Monica heads below deck to check on the children and make sure they rest before their trip, Grey collects their maps and the boat's manual. With a bit of simple math, he discovers where they could be. Unfortunately, the river has swollen; pre-collapse, it didn't diverge. Using his estimations, Grey picks several potential old towns that they might be near, with a roughly one-day walk to any of them. Hopefully, wherever they end up, they'll run across people who won't be hostile to them or the children. Heading below deck as quietly as possible, Grey finds Monica leaning against a doorframe, arms crossed beneath her bust and tail swaying happily.

Creeping closer, a creaking board gives away his position. Turning her head, Monica brings a finger to her lips, a stern glare in her eyes. Approaching slowly and carefully, Grey peeks into the room to see all of the children asleep in two twin-sized beds of a cabin at the far end of the hall. Their peaceful faces are startlingly comforting. Taking him by the hand, Monica pulls him back from the opening before quietly closing the cabin door. Returning to their own cabin, Grey steps inside while Monica seals them in.

“What a bunch of sweethearts." Monica remarks.

“I didn't know you were so good with children." Grey says, sitting at the edge of the bed. “It was nice hearing you help that kid, Mike."

“I have my moments." Monica smiles, sitting beside him. “You definitely have a soft spot for them. All the time we've been together and I've never seen you explode like that."

“Yeah, well..." He sighs, looking down at his feet. “Young children are innocent; they shouldn't be exposed to suffering like that. It makes my blood boil every time I see that kind of awful shit."

Reaching out and resting her clawed hand upon his cheek, Monica forces his head to turn in her direction. Shifting his eyes, their orbs lock.

“Me too." She speaks softly.

Leaning in, the couple's lips caress before Grey give her a tender kiss.

“You like playing mom, don't you?" He smirks.

“I'd gladly have your babies, if that's what you're asking." She coos.

Her nose is mere millimeters from his face. With a lustful gleam in her eye, Grey can feel his temperature rise. He steals another kiss, and then another.

“Babies, huh?" He asks as he takes a breath.

“Mhm... Plural."

“Honestly, that doesn't sound half bad."

“I agree."

Monica's arms slip around his body, her chin resting on his shoulder. She gives his neck a soft kiss. Glancing back at the door, Grey's pleased that Monica had the foresight to lock them in, while Monica's pleased by the look on her lover's face. Taking her into his arms, their passion builds. Before either of them realizes it, they're unclothed and fondling each other. Rolling Monica onto her belly, Grey penetrates her from behind. His exceptional skill and endowment make it a chore for her to remain quiet, but a pillow provides for an adequate suppressor.

After bringing her to the peak of her pleasure several times over, and in various positions, Grey finally releases. He floods her uterus with his seed, something he's already done several times before. During those previous occurrences it was simply how the events unfolded. Neither wanted him to pull away; she wanted to feel his seed, and he wanted to oblige her. This time, however, it's almost ritualistic. It's as if they're hoping she'll become pregnant. After taking the time to rest, they lay naked, holding each other. It isn't until almost noon, when the children start to awaken, that they collect their clothes and prepare.

Immediately upon unlocking and opening the door, Monica is greeting by the now rested children. Heading to the main deck, the couple and their horde of rescued children eat breakfast before abandoning the boat. By chance, the right fork in the river is far too shallow to have ever carried the boat; with help from the oldest girls, they wade through the barely waist-deep waters and reach dry land roughly six meters away. Using an old compass, Grey leads them in a southwesterly direction, hoping to stumble upon one of the towns.

Monica keeps her rifle close to her chest as they wander through the sub-tropical landscape, playing little games with the children, such as “I, Spy." It warms Grey's heart to hear how comfortable she is with the tiny beings, who swiftly nickname her “Moni". Though Sue participates and seems happy, Grey knows that she'll always bear the scars of her torment. Hopefully, she'll find herself in the permanent care of someone who'll help her overcome it all, and develop into a well-adjusted woman. It's childhoods like hers that've created women as confused and dangerous as April, whom he often thinks about.

Hour after hour, they march into the forest. When the children begin to complain, they pause to rest, sharing their water freely. By the afternoon, they've walked many miles, often carrying some of the younger, weaker children on their backs and in their arms. Finally, as the sun begins to make its way toward the horizon, the group emerge from the forest and onto an old road, the shoulders overgrown with weeds and tall grass. The unbroken asphalt is surprising, as many roads have fallen apart in the decades of neglect. Seeing a weathered street sign, it points toward an old town called “Helen", a name that Grey doesn't recognize.

Looking at his map of Tennessee, he doesn't find any matching towns. Switching to his map of Georgia, however, the results are far more promising. Though it takes Grey a moment, he eventually discovers the town. To his surprise, they've traveled well over one hundred miles. He was expecting to barely reach the border of the former state, but the girl's nighttime route had somehow connected them to the overflowing Chattahoochee river, shortening their journey by days. Turning back to Monica and the children, they look to him with intrigue.

“Well?" Monica asks.

Without saying a word, Grey approaches the two girls, who appear nervous. Taking a knee, he gives them a hug, one arm around each girl.

“Thank you, so much."

“We did good?" Sue sheepishly asks.

“You did real good." He smiles.

Crowding around them, Monica and the other children congratulate Sally and Sue. Passing the street sign, they walk toward the town that once housed nearly one thousand people, listed as being only a mile away. Approaching the old town, they're surprised to find that it still appears inhabited. While not nearly as populated as it once was, dozens of people walk the streets. They answer the ringing church bells, which emanate from a tall steeple of a white building with a red tiled roof. Nearing the city's center, the villagers pause, turning to look at the two adults and the small horde of children who follow them.

“Well, how y'all doin'?!" A cheerful woman asks.

“Much better, now." Grey replies.

“I can imagine! ... And who're these lil angels!" She turns her eyes toward the children.

“Just our kids." Monica answers.

“Huh... They don't look like yours; only one is wolf-like."

“No! Not our kids." Monica corrects.

“She means we're taking care of them." Grey adds.

“The nice Grey man and Moni set us free!" Little Mike chirps.

“Yeah!" The children exclaim in unison.

“They did, huh?! Well, y'all'll be safe here! I'm Abigail!"

“I'm Monica." She says, shaking Abigail's hand.

“And I'm Grey." He extends his.

“Well, right this way! We'll see our mayor 'bout the children!" Abigail replies, leaving Grey's hand unshaken.

Motioning for them to follow, Abigail leads them through town. While the entirely Voeldahn population of Helen are polite and courteous, they consistently stare at the mixed-race couple. Both can see and even feel their eyes, finding it quite unsettling. Passing by the church, Grey notes that the old cross seems to have fallen off the top of the steeple. Possibly in a storm and from decades of neglect? Entering a building adjacent, they're introduced to a man named Samuel, who acts at Helen's mayor.

As loud and jovial as Abigail, Samuel congratulates the couple on their rescue of the children, before offering them shelter and placement in several homes. The children know they're being cared for, and show their appreciation with cheers and hugs.

“So, what're y'all's plans?" Mayor Samuel asks the couple.

“Oh, uh..." Monica pauses.

“We're not staying. We have somewhere to be." Grey answers.

This is a fact that the children hadn't know, and it disheartens them, especially Sue, who seems to gravitate toward Grey.

“What?!" Sue exclaims. “Don't leave!"

She clings to Grey as if she'd known him her entire life.

“It's alright." He speaks softly, leaning over and giving her a hug.

“No, it isn't. You should stay. Why can't you stay?!" Sue whimpers.

“Because we have somewhere we need to be." He answers.

“... Can we go with you?" She sheepishly asks.

“Yeah!"

“That wouldn't be good." Grey replies.

“Why not?!"

“Because we couldn't take care of all of you; not like this town could." Monica interjects.

“And the road isn't safe for you. You could get hurt. This is the best place for you." Grey adds.

“He's right kids. Y'all'll be safe here. We can take good care of ya'!" Mayor Samuel exclaims, patting Sally's head.

Though Sue sniffles, and some of the children appear upset, they accept the adult's explanations, at least on the surface.

“You know, if y'all gonna leave, ya' should at least stay the night. We can even give up some extra food for yer journey. It won't be much, but it'll be somethin'." Samuel remarks.

“That'd be great. Thanks." Monica smiles.

“Abi? Taken 'em to the old inn." The mayor instructs.

“Sure, Sam!" Abigail chirps. “Right this way!"

Monica and Grey glance between each other. Samuel seems to be a decent man, while Abigail seems to be a decent woman. They set their minds at ease. Leading the duo and the children out of the Mayor's office, the Mayor calls out the pastor, who emerges from a tiny house built into the rear of the church. Leaving the children in his care, they assure them they'll be able to find good homes for each child, and will do all that they can to make their new environment a pleasant and welcoming one. As one of the few communities that's held onto any form of religious morality, both Monica and Grey can believe it, but only barely.

Following Abigail, Monica and Grey leave the kids behind and walk further down the main street. By now, word has spread of the human man and his canine Voeldahn girlfriend, but no one bothers to stare. Perhaps it was merely the sight of something as rare as a human that drew their earlier attention? Looking back, several couples introduce themselves to the children, speaking softly and warmly to them. After a moderate walk down main street, they enter the old inn at the end of the block. An elderly Voeldahn woman, with the features of a squirrel, sits behind the desk and naps. Her black fur and long black hair is greying.

“Hey... Wake up, SARAI!" Abigail suddenly shouts.

“Huh?! What?!" Sarai jumps. “Why, you little... Oh! Who're yer friends?!" The old woman grins.

“Newcomers. They'll be stayin' the night. Can ya' get 'em a room?"

“'Course I can!" Sarai chirps.

“Well, alright then!" Abigail chirps, taking a step back from the desk. “Y'all have a good night, and watch out for this'un. She's a fire cracker." She whispers to the couple.

Though she speaks in front of Sarai, the older woman appears not to hear her, watching them with a strange little smile as she slowly rises from her chair behind the desk.

“Alright, well... I'm gettin' home to my little house and my big ol' husband. See ya' later!"

Taking her leave, Monica and Grey watch Abigail depart, her tail swishing as she hums a little tune to herself. She almost skips down the road. Looking back at the desk, old Sarai walks slowly around it, taking a brass key from a crudely installed rack. It sits beside a stack of unusable keycards, as electronic locks don't work without power.

“Her husband's big, but he ain't really fat. He's just well-known fer something else." Sarai winks at Monica.

“Oh..." She murmurs.

“Lovely." Grey sighs.

“Yeah. Lucky girl just likes to brag. Good thing he's loyal... Or keeps his mouth shut. One a' the two!" Sarai laughs.

She leads the duo quite slowly through the long hall of the hotel. Judging from her health and appearance, she's at least as old as Sorin the Historian, if not older. She regales the couple of stories about Helen's past, specifically reminiscing about the glory days of the hotel in particular.

“I used to bring all a' my lovers here, way back when." Sarai remarks, further unnerving the couple. “I did so love my humans." She winks at Monica.

“A woman with taste." Monica replies, glancing toward Grey with a distinct expression of discomfort.

“Only partially! I mean, I loved me some humans. Who doesn't like their damp skin on yer fur when they'z getting' at ya'?! Heh... But I also had to!"

“You don't say..." Grey remarks.

“Uh-huh! Otherwise my husband might notice all a' 'his' children looked different. You know how it is with mixed couples."

The pair don't respond, staring at each other in shock. Sarai pauses, looking back at the pair.

“I'm kiddin'!" She laughs. “... That was back when birth control was still a thing, and I took all my a' my pills!"

The filthy old woman suddenly sighs.

“It would've been nice though... He'd of raised 'em all; bless his heart! ... Well, here we are!"

Standing before the final door, at the far end of the hall, Sarai unlocks it with the brass key. All of the room's keycard readers have been replaced with old fashioned locks, making up for the lack of electricity. Sarai hands over the key to Monica.

“I hope ya' enjoy yer stay, darlin'." She coos, stroking Monica's hand.

“Er... We will."

“I bet. Them beds are jus' right; not too soft, not too firm. Have at it."

Turning to leave, Monica quickly seals them into the musty bedroom.

“Wow... She's..." Monica pauses.

“Yeah..." Grey remarks, opening the curtains.

“And I thought only men could be pigs. Clearly, times were different before The Ending."

Taking her carbine rifle from her shoulder and her pack from her back, she sets them on the floor, beside a nightstand. Sitting atop the bed, she watches as Grey opens a sliding glass door at the back of the room, leaving the screen closed and the insects outside, but allowing for air circulation.

“At least she was right about the bed." Monica sighs, flopping onto her back.

“Want to take her advice?" Grey asks, tossing himself onto the bed and directly beside her.

“Maybe later, furless. I want her to be gone; you know she'll listen in on us." Monica smirks.

“Probably."

“What was with her, anyway?"

“Lonely?" Grey shrugs a shoulder, leaning on one arm. “She might now have many visitors."

“This town seem awfully inclusive... I find it hard to believe she's so isolate that she lost her filter. I mean, no one wants to hear about how many guys she fucked back when she was young and agile, or that she wanted to get pregnant by every guy besides her husband... That's some sick fucking shit."

“Well, we'll be leaving soon."

Grey leans in, giving his lover a tender kiss. First one, and then another. Monica's tongue caresses his, their arms wrapping around their bodies. Her heart burns for him in a way that it never has for any other man before. Every time they begin, their passion soars like an eagle, and they find it hard to control themselves. However, something bothers her. Grey pauses to nuzzle her face, taking a breath after the impassioned kissing. This is something he does often, but Monica uses it to begin a dialogue.

“Why south?"

“... You know why." He sighs.

“We've found towns before and this is the best one. Perverted old women aside, they all seem nice, but we're going south. We found that cabin before that and we could've stayed, but we're going south. Not many people on that trail, if any, and plenty of game and a stream for fishing, but we're going south. What the hell is in the south that we have to find?" She asks with intensity.

“I don't know. The voice doesn't tell me that. I get my information minute by minute and I don't question it, because it never answers me anyway." He replies, sitting up.

“And what's it say about this place?" She asks, leaning up against her elbows.

“That we need to leave tomorrow morning."

“I just... I love you Grey."

“And I love you too."

“I want us to have a life together. I want a kid or two or five." Monica grins.

“Me too." Grey smiles back.

“But that means one day you'll have to settle down. Maybe... You should stop listening?"

Grey clasps his hands together, resting his lips against his index fingers. Staring pensively at the floor, Monica can see the dichotomy in his heart. With guilt creeping in, she swiftly sits up and drapes her arms over his shoulders.

“I'm sorry, I... I just want someplace to rest."

“I'll find you a place to rest, Precious." He turns his head toward her. “I promise. I want to stop too. When we're done doing whatever we're supposed to do, I'll stop."

Wrapping her arms tightly around him, she nuzzles his face with her snout. He grips her slender frame tightly in kind, kissing her neck.

“I love you, Precious."

“And I love you too, furless."

Kissing once again, they soon lose themselves in passion's white heat. This time, however, Monica doesn't bother to worry over Sarai eavesdropping. After a long and pleasurable session, they sleep sounds beside each other. Awakening late that next morning, Monica slides out of bed. The nude canine Voeldahn woman stretches, before opening the flap of her earth brown, M1936 Musette bag. She prepares to open several cans of food for their breakfast. Grey suddenly stirs before swiftly rising up in bed.

“Good morning, lover!" She chirps. “What're you up for?"

Grey grips his forehead, wincing in pain.

“... Babe?"

Grey's expression swiftly changes as the pain dissipates. He stares straight ahead for a moment before quickly looking over at her.

“We slept in too late... We've got to go! We can eat on our break!"

“What's wrong?!"

“I don't know, but we need to get dressed and leave... Right now."

Unwilling to argue, Monica tosses the cans back into the pack closes and buckles the flap and prepares to grab her rifle, pausing when she looks down at her nude body. She struggles to put on her clothes while Grey checks his Bersa pistol, his underwear and pants already on. In barely a minute the pair are have hastily dressed. Taking her rifle and carrying it in her hands, they pull open the door and step into the hall. To their horror, Sarai stands at the opposite end, handing a fire axe to a large, hooded man. Abigail stands beside the hooded figure, an arm around his.

“Shit..." Monica grumbles.

“Back door." Grey says as he steps into the room.

They run toward the sliding screen door, only to be startled by the appearance of another hooded man. Beside him is the pastor, Mayor Samuel, and several others.

“Ya' sure ya' don't wanna to stay fer a while? It's a looong road to the south." Samuel says with a bloodthirsty grin.

“South..." Monica murmurs. “I fucking knew it! That old bitch was listening in!"

“Oh, a lot a' us were." Samuel remarks.

“That was quite a show, by the way. Ya' really got at it, girl! Ain't the big ones so much fun?" Abigail suddenly interjects.

Spinning around, the pair watch as the large, hooded man enters the room. Abigail already stands inside, near the opened door.

“Y'all're gonna have to come with us now..." The man sternly instructs.

“This is a dumb question, but... Why?" Grey asks.

“We need us a sacrifice, a' course! Ba'al needs blood, and his favorite kind is right here!"

“Ba'al, huh... Wait, I thought Ba'al only wanted child sacrifices?"

“If you even think about harming any of those kids..." Monica snarls, bringing her rifle to her shoulder.

“Are you crazy?! We'd never do that!" The pastor laughs.

“We only sacrifice humans, but we ain't got a human child, so a human a' any age will have to do." Samuel replies.

“I nearly shit my panties when I saw yours!" Sarai chuckles, speaking directly to Monica as she slowly steps inside.

“It's been a long time since we sacrificed one. We resorted to raising goats for him!" Abigail chirps, her smile ever present.

“Go!" Grey shouts.

Swiftly drawing and taking aim, he fires several rounds. To Monica's shock, Grey shoots out the sliding glass door, intentionally missing the cultists. They race through the room, out the shattered glass door and past the cowering cultists, dashing into the nearby woods as the others give chase. The heavy footfalls of Abigail's heavyset husband close in. Turning back, Abigail fires several shots, two of them striking him in the chest. He falls dead in a heap, a round rupturing his heart.

“Seamus! No!" Abigail screams in horror.

Racing around several trees, the pair try their best to lose their pursuers. Weighed down by the heavy pack and her rifle, however, Monica is much slower than she used to be, back when she had little to her name. Thankfully, Grey, who carries his military butt back that's also full of gear, won't abandon her; he runs at only the speed that she can. Following a little trail, they can hear the men in the distance, persisting in chasing after them. The trail bends, heading back toward the town. The foliage is dense on either side, forming a natural barrier. Rushing toward the edge of the tiny city, they are suddenly jumped by a pair of men who pop out of the bushes like gofers.

“Com'ere, bitch!" One yells, grabbing Monica from behind.

“Fuck you!" She growls, struggling against the stronger man.

“We ain't gonna hurt ya', girl, just yer-"

Bang. He dies mid-sentence as Grey shoots him in the head. Bang, bang. The other man fires back with a rusty, antique revolver, causing Grey to duck. He jumps behind a tree for cover. Before Monica can attack the man who shoots at her lover, the second of the large, hooded men emerges and grabs her. Accompanied by a sizeable chunk of the town, she screams and kicks as she's swiftly disarmed. With Monica subdued, Grey is forced to run. He dashes along the trail and back into town. Swiftly finding an old, weed covered box built into the side of a nearby house, he quickly pulls open the little hatch.

Slipping in his legs, he turns back at the sound of approaching men, only for the hatch to suddenly drop another inch. Falling in, the spring-loaded hatch slams shut behind him. The box was not a box at all, and Grey slides down the old coal chute, landing with a thud in the darkness of the home's basement floor.

“Where'd he go?! He's gotta be here!" A man outside remarks.

“Ain't nuthin' here!" Another says.

“Well, we got his bitch. He ain't gonna go far!"

“Don't call her that! She's one a' Ba'al's children, like us!" The other scolds him.

“Yer right... I'm sorry..."

“It's okay... Let's hurry up and find this human so'z we can sacrifice him!"

“Alright!"

Grey silently chuckles at their bizarre exchange. Searching through his various belt pouches, Grey finds his small flashlight, an Energizer Hard Case Compact with a fixed, ninety-degree angle head. With an old, rechargeable but still functioning AA battery, it's a valuable tool that's sparsely used. Flipping on the light, he nearly screams, falling backward onto the floor. Only inches from his face stands a mannequin, the plastic human painted to have a rather cartoony skeleton visible. Looking around the musty dungeon of the basement, Grey rises to his feet yet again, groaning from the pain of having fallen onto a pack full of gear, twice.

After taking a moment to collect himself, he conducts a brief search of the room. He quickly finds his fallen pistol nearby, examining and then holstering the undamaged weapon. Heading for a rickety looking staircase, he picks up an old rubber mallet from a workbench. Carefully beginning the ascent, he pauses, wincing in pain. Listening to the voice, he's appalled by the order.

“Fuck that..." Grey grumbles to himself. “I'm not leaving without her."

Though the voice reminds him of his mission, urging him to leave her behind and even assuring him that she won't be harmed or mistreated, he ignores it. After a time, the voice simply ceases to speak. Climbing the stairs slowly and quietly, he turns the old knob of the door and gradually pushes it open. A middle-aged Voeldahn man sits at a kitchen table, his back to the basement door. The décor is like a picturesque rural cottage he's seen in moldy books. Hearing a noise, the man's ears prick, only to be struck by the rubber mallet without ever knowing what happened. With several hard blows, Grey knocks the man unconscious.

“I'm sorry." He whispers to the man. “But I need to borrow your house for a minute."

“HI!"

Grey jumps, spinning around and looking down at the elated Sue. She races up to Grey, giving him a tight embrace.

“I missed you!"

“Hi. I missed you too." He replies, draping an arm over her.

“What happened to Greg?" She suddenly asks, looking past him.

“Oh, him?"

“And why do you have a hammer?"

“Uh... I knocked him out."

“Why?" She cocks her head. “... Where's Moni?!" She looks around the room.

Unwilling to lie to her, Grey sets the mallet on a counter and pulls Sue aside. Closing the door to the basement, he explains that the town came for them. Seeing her immediately growing fearful, Grey is quick to assure the girl that the townsfolk don't want to harm the children, or even Monica; they only want to hurt him. This only partially eases her mind. The swiftness with which Sue offers to hide him, even telling him who else is in the house so that he can knock them out as well, is quite adorable to the human.

“Do you want me to bring Margaret down here for you?! I can! MA-"

“Shh!" Grey covers her snout with a hand. “I don't want to do that. I just need to slip out of here, once they stop looking for me... Then I can rescue Monica."

“Okay." Sue nods. “Upstairs is a good place to hide. I'll distract Margaret and you can go in there! Follow me!"

Taking his hand, Sue leads him through the quaint little house. If this is where she'll be living, it's certainly an upgrade; the road would never be so kind to her. Climbing the stairs, Sue brings a finger to her lips, looking back at the human. She whispers the directions before walking through the hall. She calls out to Margaret, who emerges from a room. Asking for her help with something, Sue keeps her adoptive mother in the room with her. Grey creeps down the hall, walking right behind Margaret as she looks down at Sue. Though she turns her eyes, Sue is careful not to bring attention to him; for a child, she has considerable tact.

He quickly finds the stairs to the tiny attic, right where Sue had said they'd be. Climbing up, he discovers two windows, one facing the main street, and the other facing the forest. Watching from the window, his blood boils as he sees the disarmed Monica being dragged into the church across the street. Men begin searching house to house. Upon arriving at Sue's home, Margaret and Sue let them in. Grey can hear them as they wake up the man he'd knocked out, who seems blissfully unaware that he was even attacked, merely assuming that he'd fallen asleep at the table. Thankfully, he has a thick skull.

Footfalls approach, and Grey begins to panic. The voice offers him no assistance. He unlatches the window that faces the main street, before heading quietly for the window that faces the forest. Opening the window, he slips outside, lowering it shut as carefully as he can. Scurrying away from the glass, he hides along the outside wall of the dormer window, just as men climb the attic to find him. His heart beats nearly out of his chest as a man opens the window, standing within arm's reach of him.

“Do y'all always leave this unlocked?" The man asks.

“I don't recall." Margaret answers.

“They do. This'un's unlocked too." A man across the room remarks.

“Alright then! If you see 'em, let us know!"

Once the men and Margaret leave, Grey breathes a sigh of relief. Sitting on the roof, he looks toward the empty woods and waits. The minutes tick by like hours, and the hours like days, but soon most of the men appear to have stopped searching. Many people return to their homes, while only a small team of scouts start walking the road in search of their lost prize. Winding his wristwatch, he sees that he's been waiting for three and a half hours; it's nearly noon. With few left in his way, and the church almost directly across the street, Grey decides to make his move. Rather than reenter the home and risk encountering Sue's new family, he decides on a different method.

Finding a sturdy pipe that runs from the antiquated eavestrough, he carefully slides down the side of the old house. Reaching the ground, he looks left, then right, then left again. Without anyone to be found, he darts across the street. He reaches the front porch of the church without drawing any attention. Sue watches him from her new bedroom window, waving somberly, a gesture he returns. With his back against the wall, he moves slowly around the building, toward the tiny home where the pastor lives. Opening a Velcro sealed pouch, he draws his only melee weapon, the chain whip. Keeping the links held tightly in his palm, he reaches a window beside the side door.

Peering inside, he sees only an empty kitchenette and dining area. He takes his elbow and prepares to push a square pane of glass in, only to pause as he looks at the door knob. Reaching out, he takes hold of the knob and gives it a little twist. It's unlocked.

“Heh... Gotta love small towns." He thinks quietly to himself.

Stepping inside, he's prepared to fight his way through the church. Hopefully they haven't hurt Monica.

“Y'all'right in there?" A guard asks her, kneeling in front of a large dog kennel.

“Fuck you..."

“I'm sure sorry 'bout this! We don't normally do this kind'a stuff!"

“Yeah... Right." She grumbles.

Her eyes scan the desecrated church, looking upon the blood-stained altar made of cinderblocks and painted black and red with old engine block paint. A dead, rotting goat lay on another altar, the last sacrifice to their dark god.

“This ain't right, but it's only temporary... Ya' know, if they never find 'em, they jus' gonna let you go." The guard continues.

“Pfft... ... Really?!" Monica raises a brow.

“Yeah! Ba'al loves the Voeldahn. We don't like hurtin' our kind. You don't even gotta stay; we jus' need ya' right now, in case he comes back. No hard feelin's."

“Apology accepted."

Spinning around at the unfamiliar voice, the guard drops Monica's rifle to the floor as the chain's links wrap around his neck. With a hard yank, Grey, who stands behind him, pulls him down to the floor. Rolling him over and straddling his back, Grey strangles the man until he falls unconscious. Waiting only a few seconds more, he unwraps the chain from his throat.

“Finally!" Monica whispers loudly. “Could you have taken any longer?!"

“Yes." He grins, slipping his chain whip back into its holster. “But I missed you."

“I missed you too." She grins, her fingers clutching the cage as she looks up at him.

“A dog cage, huh?" He smirks.

“Not. One. Word." She sighs.

Kneeling down, he finds the latch of the dog kennel sealed with a padlock. He turns toward the man, contemplating searching him for the key. However, looking over the cage, he simply uses his multitool's pliers to pull the single, hinge pin from the door.

“Let's go, before they wake up." He whispers.

“You didn't kill them?!"

“I didn't need to. Your pack is right behind that shelf."

Reclaiming their gear, Monica and Grey slip out of the church, through the pastor's side door. Unfortunately, people now wander the street. They're forced to run north, circling around the town of Helen before continuing their journey south. Walking through the woods, the pair are mostly silent, mindful of any noises in the forest. Monica turns her silver eyes toward her lover, looking to him several times.

“Hey, Grey..."

“Yeah?" He turns his head toward her.

“You don't think they'd hurt those kids, do you?"

“Not a chance. The voice said it was a good place for them 'to wait', whatever that means. Besides, I saw Sue on my way out. She was living with a family and she didn't seem at all worried." He replies.

“Oh... Grey?"

“Yeah?"

“Thanks for coming for me." She smiles.

“You know I always will, Precious." He smiles back. “It's just you and me."

Reaching out her hand to him, Grey swiftly takes it. With their fingers interlocking, she holds her rifle by the rear of the receiver, resting it along a shoulder. She turns her eyes toward the sky, taking a deep breath and sighing with relief. Hopefully, it won't be long before they can rest.